Strange Fire

Q&A: Siima Itabaaza

By InHae Yap   |   August 6, 2020 

Siima Itabaaza is a writer. Her work has been published online in SUNU Journal, gal-dem and Third Text. Dedicated to the arts and their power to influence development, Siima has also featured in panel discussions at the Film Africa and ourselves + others: african feminist re-CREATIONS festivals. She holds a Bachelor's degree in International Development and Politics from the University of Manchester, and a Master's degree in African Studies at the School of Oriental and African Studies (SOAS) in London. Her dissertation, 'Being the "Big Man": The Role of Performativity and Aesthetic Elements in "Big Man" Politics in Uganda' explored how dress, body and verbal language are central to ‘big man rule’ in Uganda. Siima is also a co-founder of Tom-bebe-sa, an archival project that creatively engages with African and Caribbean diasporas.

InHae Yap: Hello Siima, thanks for chatting with us today. As a Kampala-based writer, your work and public engagements run a gamut of topics, all related to how the arts can serve as a vehicle for development in African countries. How did you arrive at these interests at the intersection of African art and development?

Siima Itabaaza: As a child, I was always drawn to the arts even though it took me so long to actively pursue this as a career during my adult life. I love how the arts allow you to express yourself in multiple ways and how that "right/wrong" binary is not given much space to thrive. At the same time, I have always had a strong interest in politics, cultures and societies, especially in African countries. I always knew that whatever I would do in life would involve politics. So I guess combining art and development was inevitable. 

I should mention that I do not use the term "African art" because I see it as a way of othering. We don't say "American art" or “European art" but instead say "art" because art from those parts of the world is assumed to be art by default.

IY: I love this point about “African art” – I often automatically tailor my responses for audiences steeped in a Eurocentric canon. It goes to show that self-regulated language is another forum where power differentials manifest. This brings me to my next question about “development,” which is such a loaded term when it comes to Africa, particularly in terms of the white savior complex. What do you envision for African-driven reclamation of development, and how do the arts come into this?

SI: I pursued my undergraduate degree in development studies and politics and had a brief stint in the sector before I realized that international development isn't for me. A feminism class that I took during the last year of my undergraduate program exposed me to the violences and problems that are inherent in international development. There is a lot of imposition and assumption of knowing what's best for others in this sector. With the arts, we are encouraged to question, consider and embrace different ways of being. I believe that this is key to redefining international development, especially for me as an African. It was through the arts that I began to understand development as a process of unlearning and dismantling systems of oppression and replacing them with systems that allow us to exist in all our multiplicities. 

IY: You were recently selected to participate in the British Council’s New Narratives residential workshops. Tell me about your engagement with African and Caribbean diasporas in the United Kingdom, and, relatedly, your archival project Tom-bebe-sa.

SI: I lived in the UK for almost 10 years and that was the first time that I lived and engaged with people from various diasporas. Through these experiences, I realized that a lot of my perspectives of Black people from other parts of the world, particularly other African countries and the Caribbean, had been shaped by Whiteness and colonialism. I began to become conscious and active about understanding and interacting with other Black people on their own terms and confront my internalized white supremacy. I started Tom-bebe-sa with my sister-friend Nicole Walugembe with whom I have had countless conversations about these issues. We wanted to create a space where Black people from across the diasporas share their cultures and experiences without centering Whiteness. We both noticed that a lot of discourse about Africa and its diasporas tends to emphasize European or North American diasporan experiences so we are attempting to fill in this gap. Tom-bebe-sa was also born of the need to address how we inflict oppression on each other as Black people and how we can heal from that.

IY: Last year, you petitioned the Venice Biennale to remove Christoph Büchel’s display of a fishing boat, presented as a work of art, in which hundreds of African migrants drowned. What came of that petition and how did the Biennale respond? 

SI: Unfortunately, I did not get a response from the Biennale or Büchel. The boat was not removed from the biennale. However, the petition was part of a much-needed conversation about the use of Black trauma in art and the migration crisis.

On a personal level, the petition taught me a lot about the importance of having a clear strategy when undertaking this form of protest. It is not just about getting rid of the thing or system that is violent but it is also about planting the seeds to create the alternative. I feel that I lacked this awareness when I created this petition last year. I should have contacted people or organizations working with African migrants and collaborated with them to create an alternative platform that uses art to address the migration crisis.

IY: In many ways, the Büchel incident highlights the need for African-led art fairs, biennales, non-profits, etc. – all of which have, encouragingly, popped up across the continent in increasing numbers over the last few years, as African cities gain recognition as hubs of contemporary art and visual culture. What are your thoughts on opportunities and support systems in Kampala for artists and creative workers such as yourself?  

SI: There is a growing appreciation for the arts and the creative industry in Kampala. I think that this can partly be attributed to social media and people realizing that money can be made from the arts. But also, a lot of people, especially the younger generation recognizes that we can not all be doctors, engineers, accountants or lawyers and that some of our career paths lie in the creative sector. I believe that this has led more people to open arts spaces and put in place more initiatives to support arts workers. I am particularly grateful for 32° East Ugandan Arts Trust, a non-profit that is dedicated to fostering contemporary art in Uganda. Their programs are not only dynamic but stimulating. I love how their work brings together artists with people who are passionate about the arts. Many Ugandan artists including Stacey Gillian Abe and Ian Mwesiga, whose work I wrote about in SUNU Journal, have completed residencies at 32. They have shown up for the Ugandan arts community during the pandemic by providing stipends for materials and internet bundles. 

However, there is very little support for the creative sector from the government. I believe this has a lot to do with prevalent attitudes about the arts not being of any value to society. It's a massive challenge that we will hopefully overcome. 

IY: Turning to a more difficult topic: the murder of George Floyd has triggered national conversations and protests around systems of policing, prisons, and institutions across the board that are stacked against Black people in the United States. There is a long history of pan-African solidarity, with liberation-era African political leaders finding inspiration in such figures as Malcolm X or MLK, and vice versa. Yet racism in Africa and the USA cannot be conflated, and the history of solidarity is also a complicated one. As someone who has worked and lived in the diaspora and the continent, how do you navigate these varied responses to the protests and questions of race more broadly? 

SI: Living on the continent and the diaspora has taught me how to approach questions of race with nuance. How anti-Blackness and systematic racism functions in Africa differs from how it operates in the diasporas. That is not to say that there are no similarities. For instance, before I left Uganda, I used to think that anti-Blackness does not affect me because I am in a Black-majority country. I was incredibly naive to the fact that I had experienced colorism and other forms of anti-Blackness while I lived in Uganda. But also, living in a country where British colonialism is still deeply embedded in society means that I often associated Whiteness with acceptability. Many times, I sub-consciously and unconsciously partook in anti-Blackness. Consequently, I have learned that the responses are varied and that we must interrogate how we as Black and African people participate in anti-Blackness.

While there were protests in various African countries, including Uganda, there were not huge turnouts. I would not attribute this to people on the continent not caring about these issues. Several factors can explain why the responses were different, one of which is the fact that anti-Blackness manifests differently in places as I mentioned earlier. We are also in the middle of a pandemic and there have been tough lockdown measures put in place by many African governments which made it difficult to go to protests. 

I have learned to be more patient and understand that we are at different parts on our journey. Since we live in an oppressive system, we all still partake in the violences of these systems no matter how long we have been doing the work. 

IY: Tell me about how the current pandemic lockdown has affected your work.

SI: Before Covid-19, I worked virtually, so that has continued. Galleries, museums and spaces that show art have been closed so I have been forced to embrace virtual exhibitions. I really miss experiencing the way that art transforms a room and what that can do to your body. I am slowly adapting to experiencing art through a screen. 

On the other hand, I have been able to participate in exhibitions, screenings, and panel talks that I would have otherwise missed out on because I am unable to be in the location. This has been very beneficial for my research and spiritual nourishment. I also like that a lot of institutions took down paywalls for journal articles, books and films – I hope that this will continue after the pandemic.

IY: What projects are you currently working on, and what does the future hold? 

SI: I am currently working on the New Narratives project and trying to do more program curation (panel discussions, roundtables). I am also doing more learning especially about abolition and Black feminisms. I just want to continue working on my healing and growth and also do this work for Black communities around the world.