Khirkee Voice (Issue 1) English

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Khirkee Voice 29.09.2016

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Number 1

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12 Pages

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Special India-Africa Edition

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www.khojworkshop.org

Dragonflies, Fashion &More

Artist Andrew Ananda Voogel tells the story of his Great Grandmother’s forced journey across the Oceans.

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Pg 4

Weather Forecast Thursday, September 29 Accra, Ghana

Young Nigerian Artist makes his India Debut at Khirkee Extension Malini Kochupillai, New Delhi

Twenty Four year old Chibuike Uzoma is a first time visitor to India, here for a six week artist in residence program at Khoj in Khirkee Extension. Uzoma works with painting and photography, and tries to look beyond a literal interpretation of the images that he makes, to a more conceptual understanding of the pictures.

Johannesburg, S.Africa

Recalling memories from his childhood and early artistic endeavours, Uzoma describes growing up in Port Harcourt, Nigeria in a middle class family that didn't have the money to buy him the expensive toys Uzoma wanted, and as a result getting together with friends and spending their free time making their own toys with any and all the scrap they were able to find. He credits this early experimentation andplay for his creative instincts, and describes how he chose to stick with the creative path at an early age. He speaks of his mother being supportive from the beginning, allowing Uzoma to turn their house into a veritable junkyard for his creations. We sat down with Uzoma for an candid conversation about his art, process and his impressions of New Delhi on his first visit.

Kampala, Uganda

Lagos, Nigeria

Mumbai, India

Full Interview on Page 2

Nairobi, Kenya

Malini Kochupillai

Chibuike Uzoma enjoys a light moment at the Khoj Studios

Khirkee Tailor Dreams of going back to South Africa Mahavir Singh Bisht, New Delhi

New Delhi, India

Yaoundé, Cameroon

“Before God, we are all equally wise, and equally foolish.” Albert Einstein

Nestled in the tight streets of Khirkee Extension is MM Khan's modest Tailor Shop. From the street, its easy to miss the fact that this shop is a little different, and specializes in all kinds of Western and African fashions. MM Khan's clients stretch far and wide across the city, counting on him to make them the latest fashions from countries across the African continent, sometimes even getting international orders. Khan speaks of learning his skills from his father, who was a well-known tailor in his time. His father had the opportunity to go to Germany to learn tailoring when he was young. He had a great curiosity to learn new styles of tailoring and clothing design, and soon became an expert tailor of western clothing styles, and quickly gathered a large clientele back home in Delhi. Khan was a keen learner and soon built up on the skills he learnt from his father, adding a variety of African Fashions to his portfolio.

Khan's tiny establishment is always busy with clients seeking his attention. Hailing from many countries across the African continent including Nigeria, Uganda, Kenya and South Africa among others, his clients are mostly students, or are in India for business and trade. Khan also counts some diplomats and ambassadors among his clients, and has to sometimes travel to Mumbai and Bangalore for them. But he says that the best trip he ever took for work was when he got an opportunity to go to South Africa at the ambassadors' request for three months. While initially hesitant to leave his family for three months, he decided to go ahead for the experience of international travel, and the possibility of better business opportunities. In S.Africa he even made friends with some local South Africans, with whom he would go out for drinks and dinner and the occasional movie after working at his tailor shop all day. He recalls his time there with great fondness, and speaks highly of the

people he met as being friendly and warm, on occasion cooking delicious South African meals for him. Khan recalls having learned a lot about African sartorial and cultural norms from this trip. In his last month there, he toured around many South African cities with a diplomat. When he returned to India, he found that the experience

had changed several elements of his skill set, and the way he accessed the world had changed too. He says that due to his specialization in African and western clothing, he got to the opportunity to meet different people and make a lot of friends. He wishes to go to Africa again and return with a new jar of collected memories. Malini Kochupillai


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Khirkee been good? What has interested you or surprised you about this country?

Uzoma’s work from his time in Vienna Untitled, West to the Horn is the Heart Continued from page 1

MK: How did you hear of the residency at Khoj, and what about 'CoriolisEffect” resonated with the work that you had been doing? CU: I heard of the residency through a friend, who sent me an email suggesting I apply, it was related to work I did in Europe sometime ago, it talked about migration and memory, which I had not had a first hand experience of before. It's like when you haven't been to a place, you can't know for a fact what it is really like. The title became very literal for me because it was something I can't experience.That happened with me in when I was lived in Austria, not really as a migrant, I was only there for three months. But I had this whole idea of memory loss and memory shift, to feel you're found and to feel you're lost, you find something familiar, something that triggers memory. While I was coming here I just wanted to make an extension because I wanted to see how different India would be compared to Europe or Africa, the theme resonated between India and Africa. But the thing I found in India, in New Delhi in particular, I feel like I'm found. There are only minor differences like food, Delhi is much more dense compared to Lagos, like buildings are more closed and there are more wires running over head. MK: Is that specific to the Khirkee neighborhood though, or also when you go out? CU: I don't think it's specific to Khirkee alone, I saw it in Old Delhi, and most of the places I've been, though some places just give a peculiar view and it isn't anything like Nigeria, but most of the places, especially residential areas, where probably middle class people live, it's very dense. MK: Do you have low-income neighborhoods like that in Lagos? CU: Yeah we do, but it's not so dense, this is too close. Like probably between one building and another, there is like 5 centimeters. MK: What has your experience been like in Khirkee? Theres been some history of racial tension in this neighborhood, have you felt at all uncomfortable? CU: that's not ever what I set out to look for at all, no, I almost don't see it, because I react to space rather than people, so if I feel hostility, I feel it in the space, and then it affects how I react to people. Any act of racism, I feel it is because they are living in a time that was long ago, so I almost don't even notice it. When you talk about racism, I share this idea that we are all racist, and we all have to find our ways to deal with it. MK: Tell us more about your work here. What are the things that have inspired you at the residency; I know you've been speaking with Nigerian diaspora here, how has that experience been? CU: my work here, has intuitively developed, but consciously too. My ideas of what I thought I was going to do have shifted, but it's better. I think I

wanted to make drawings on the walls, click street photographs with kids, but when I went to Old Delhi, I actually wanted to bring the street to my studio, and make art my performance and fuse that with photography, which I'm going to do, but it will probably be a little bit… I don't know… I've never done it before, so it will be a heavy experiment… MK: How are you integrating performance in the work?

“For me living is working....home is anywhere where I can make art.” CU: I'm going to make a performance in my studio and freeze it. Its going to be an ongoing process in my studio here for the duration of the residency. I'm also making a series of images, which are… things I found around the city… faces, images, wires, texts, things related to India and Africa, to just pose it inside to make things more organic, because my art, it starts with a very structured format, but at the end of the day I just want it to be organic, so I try to follow anything I'm doing, not to impose myself in it. MK: Can you tell us how you're linking India and Africa, or and Delhi and Lagos, in your process? Where are you finding the connections? CU: It's a bit tricky. At some point, I'm doing that, at some point I'm not doing that at all. You talked about linking Delhi and Lagos, maybe I'm linking them in terms of not the structure, but how it looks. The traffic… Lagos is denser in terms of traffic… MK: Lagos is more chaotic in terms of traffic than New Delhi? CU: Yeah, it's more chaotic. With the work, I'm interested in showing the migrants that move here willingly, out of a need to survive, rather than those displaced by war or hunger, I'm curious about the reasons they come, why they chose to stay and why they sometimes don't want to go back home. MK: Has your experience of working in

CU: I've enjoyed new Delhi a lot. I've only been to so much of the city because its so hot out there, trying to navigate is quite a problem, but ive really enjoyed this place. For one, ive really enjoyed working at the studios at Khoj, surrounded by colleagues with this really positive energy moving across, everybody getting food, talking, laughing, working. Yeah I would come back to Delhi, if I had a place to create. For me living is working, if im in this city for a month like a tourist, that would be boring, so for me, home is anywhere where I can make art. Here, the people are nice, they stare at you a lot, they spit a lot, I don't know why they do that (laughs), sometimes they smile, and there is some language barrier but…why do they stare at you so much?Although, it doesn't make me uncomfortable; it makes me feel like a star (laughs) CU: I know it's supposed to make me feel uncomfortable, but I don't want it to make me feel uncomfortable, because they're not going to stop staring at me, so… MK: You might as well enjoy it! CU: Yeah exactly. When I just went to agra, Liza and I were waiting for the train and there were so many stares, I was just laughing, I was like I feel like a pop star right now. If they say Namaste I just smile back at them, and I just…enjoy myself. They keep staring, that's what it is, and its just like when a white person comes to Africa, they stare at you a lot. But youre not supposed to get scared, they're just admiring you… MK: They're just curious. When people are curious they stare, not realizing it can seem rude. CU: Yeah. My friends say I look a lot, but I look to study. I remember back when I was in school, this girl walked past and I was really looking at how she was moving, and one of my friends just shoved me, and he said “man you're looking too much”. And I said I'm studying man, sorry, I'm not looking like I'm lusting after her, I have to really look and remember because when I go to my studio I have to quickly draw how something moves, like the fabric, or the light or form. Some people look out of wonder, others out of lust, some out of anxiety… everyone reacts differently, for me I just feel like a pop star… (laughs), like you're lucky to have me around.

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www.khojworkshop.org Note From the Editor

Searching for Common Ground This newspaper is an Art Work. A 'Collectible'.It is also a newspaper with real news and stories, tied together with a common thread. This thread goes back to 800 AD, connecting the vast continents of Asia and Africa, cutting through the oceans in giant sea vessels. This newspaper is a tiny peek into the diverse, multi faceted, vibrant, and ambitious lives that make up the idea of 'Africa'. I started interacting with the African community in their intimate kitchen spaces spread throughout Khirkee Extension in 2013. I wanted to know more about their lives in the city, how they navigated through their daily lives and interests. Having experienced racial slurs in foreign lands, I was also keen to let anyone I met know that they h a d a n a l l y. I n m a n y conversations over many nights in stuffy kitchens, I discovered more and more how much we had in common. Strong family ties and values, a profound religiosity and unshakable faith in God, a deep and enduring love for kids, and a constant struggle to make more money. As I got to know the community at a deeper level, I no longer saw them as 'Africans', they were people, just like anyone, trying to make the best out of life.

Out of the many people and stories I have encountered in the last few years, the selection in this newspaper were made for their diverse and unexpected connections between the people of India and the many nations of Africa. Personal stories that tell of pre colonial connections, and also of contemporary tragedy, accompany photo essays and feature stories that bring together art, culture and life. The newspaper as an object of everyday perusal is unintimidating and accessible to everyone, my interest in using this form for an art project was to also try and break down the barriers that stand between art and the public; presenting 'art' as something disposable, irreverent. I am also interested in the afterlife of the art worknewspapers have lives after they deliver the days news, they become book wrappers, cupboard liners, paper sleeves for street snacks, trash. Small scraps of information remain in the cityscape long after the buzz around the news dies. A result of the 5 week long, Coriolis Effect: Migration and Memory residency at Khoj, this newspaper hopes to create its own coriolis effect in parts of the city, and beyond, that it travels to.


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Malini Kochupillai

Left: Resident Artists of Coriolis Effect: Migration and Memory Persis Taraporevala, Swati janu, Mahesh Shantaram, Chibuike Uzoma, Malini Kochupillai, Andrew Voogel, Liza Grobler, Joao Orrechia

Suresh Pandey

Unique Artists space in Khirkee Extension is a Catalyst for Creative Work Malini Kochupillai, New Delhi

Sitting quietly in the noise and bustle of Khirkee Extension, the minimal, white two-storey building of Khoj International Artists Association presents a striking contrast to the builder flats and sealed ruins that surround it. Stepping inside, one is instantly transported into an oasis of calm, the harsh streets of Khirkee seem to become a distinct memory. The idyllic studios at Khoj, in Khirkee since 2002, are a host to some of the most experimental and innovative minds in the contemporary art scene today. From humble beginnings as an annual workshop in cities across the country in 1997, Khoj has

rapidly grown to become an internationally acclaimed experimental art space, breaking the idea of art away from the expected, and flinging it far into the unexpected. Bringing art and artistic practice together with disciplines as diverse as Fashion, Science, Food, Urban Farming, Gaming, to name just a few, through its annual residencies and workshops, Khoj enables artists to truly push the boundaries of what ‘art’ can be, to create new and unexpected forms of artistic expression. For its most recently concluded international residency, Khoj brought together artists from South Africa, Nigeria, North America and India, to deliberate and create new Malini Kochupillai

work on the idea of migration and memory in the context of the historic relationship between Indian and the African continent. Called Coriolis Effect: Migration a n d M e m o r y, t h e a r t i s t s i n residence have been working for six weeks on a wide variety of interpretations and processes in response to the theme of the residency. Below are a few examples of the variety of thought processes that drive artists. Liza Grobler from the city of Cape Town in South Africa, uses a variety of materials to make installations that create dialogues with the spaces in which they are displayed. In her time at the residency, she has been working with local artisans to translate her paintings and sketches into delicately embroidered artworks full of texture and vibrant colours. As part of her intervention, Grobler has also planted 250 grass pods, which she plans to send out into the city in autorickshaws. She says of the work, “I like how ideas travel, and infiltrate spaces. An idea is like a seed, it can take root in someone and start spreading. Interactions and small exchanges make these ideas move around, maybe even creating new ideas.” She hopes her work somehow creates a glitch in our construction of reality. Joao Orrecha from Johannesburg in South Africa, is an artist and performer who investigates the materiality of sound. He speaks of being compelled to work with his Malini Kochupillai

hands and ‘making new things’ during this residency. Orrechia has been collecting samples of sounds from the Khirkee neighborhood, and has been interpreting the soundscapes in many different ways to try and create different textures with everyday sounds. One of the most striking features of his installation is his collection of vintage car horns. Orrechia speaks of the constant horns blaring in the neighborhood, and across the city, as an almost physical assault on his sensitive ears, which are attuned to hearing the slightest shifts in tone and timber. In an hour long sample of ambient sound from the Khirkee neighborhood, Orrechia says he could identify 80-100 separate horns, many of which will perhaps make it into his installation at the Khoj Studios. Andrew Ananda Voogel is a multidisciplinary artist who works with video and installations. Deeply influenced by his personal h e r i t a g e , Vo o g e l ' s p r i m a r y research has been centered around the indentured labour trade from India to the Caribbean in the early 1900’s. During his time in t h e r e s i d e n c y, Voogel has been observing the neighborhood and the many interactions between locals and migrants from different communities, and is creating a project around ‘How we see each other’. Using hand selected pieces of textile as a metaphor for the clothing that covers us all, and overlaying text

that he has been collecting through interviews, conversations and media headlines, Voogel hopes to create a subtle connection between India and the African Continent by raising some issues and concerns common to both regions. This newspaper, conceived by Malini Kochupillai, is a public art intervention in the form of an accessible and irreverent tabloid. Kochupillai’s idea behind the n e w s p a p e r, w h i c h w e a v e s together stories and photographs that link India and the African continent in different ways, is an attempt to present the, often misunderstood, idea of Africa and Africans, as a rich, multi cultural and diverse collection of countries and individuals. Printed in English and Hindi for a wide audience, Kochupillai hopes that the newspaper will help break some of the myths that surround the African community at large, and perhaps make us rethink our collective attitudes towards our fellow human beings. Suresh Pandey

Malini Kochupillai

Top right: Andrew Ananda Voogel in his studio, Above: Joao Orrechia with his ‘new thing’, Left: Khoj Studios inside and out, Middle Left: Liza Grobler in her studio.


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The Untold Story of a Jahajee Great Grandmother

Andrew Ananda Voogel, New Delhi

This is about the day my greatgrandmother Sita left her village. It's January 1911 in Gajiyapur, Uttar Pradesh. Sita is 22 years old, married, has a daughter name Kwaria and works assembling dolls for a British company. She has been asked to attend her factory for overtime work. Sita leaves Kwaria with a neighbor and departs for the factory. As she took her final steps out of her village, she was unaware that she would never see her daughter again. Once at the factory, she was rounded up with other labourers, and forced to walk out of her district, her state and her country. The journey to the Port of Calcutta took almost a week, with no stopping for rest. Hundreds of Indians were collected and marched through the villages en route to the port. Sita had no idea of the journey she was about to embark upon. Onlookers observed the exodus. Seeing what they thought were criminals or outcasts, not knowing that most of the captured individuals walking step by step toward the Bay of Bengal were individuals taken under duress and manipulation by a machine that had an endless thirst for bodies: bodies that could labour, underneath the sun from sunrise to sunset in distant and alien lands. Upon reaching the Port of Calcutta, Sita along with hundreds of others were herded onto ships baring names like the S.S. Ganges. But no deliverance would be had for the many millions of souls that would undergo the Indian Middle Passage. Almost 70 years before Sita was born, a British Statesman and

plantation owner named John Gladstone had an idea. He owned a sugar plantation on the West Coast Demerara in British Guyana-a small Caribbean nation that borders Brazil and sits amidst the periphery of the Amazon Jungle. The British Colonial Government had just outlawed slavery in the colonies, and John Gladstone had no more cooperative bodies enslaved to cut his sugar cane. In 1838, he decided to arrange for hundreds of individuals from India to be put under indentureship contracts to labour at his plantation. He hired a passenger boat, and the first group of Indians were brought to Guyana to begin work on the plantation. Upon seeing the success Gladstone's new labour strategy, many head-hunters began corralling, manipulating and capturing Indians to be sent onto the new world. At first, debtors and outcasts were sent. Once the machine for plantation labour of Indians became well oiled, the hunger grew. And Indians were captured from all across the nation, many without knowledge of what would become of their lives. Over the next 80 years, millions would be brought across the seas, to countless nations, where plantation owners thirsted for free labour.

“As she took her final steps out of her village, she was unaware that she would never see her daughter again.”

These individuals would be later called the Jahajee's. The first group of Jahajee's to cross the sea suffered greatly, from sickness, starvation and fear of what was to come. Countless threw themselves overboard, into the dark waters of the Atlantic, drowning in protest of their fate. Others starved themselves willfully as a way of organized resistance against the brutal institution of the plantation. The first group to escape the endless sugar-cane fields of West Coast Demerara set out into the jungle. Their hope was that they could find an overland route back to the Port of Calcutta. Their bodies w e r e f o u n d w e e k s l a t e r, decomposing amidst one of the many rivers of the Amazon. Sita arrived in Guyana in 1911, in the Port of Georgetown, Guyana. She survived the darkness of the Middle Passage, also known as the Kalapani. She laboured like everyone else, not knowing if she would ever return to her village in Uttar Pradesh, or see her daughter Kwaria again. The distant and alien shores of the new world became her final resting place, like the many millions of Indians that were forcibly taken from their homes, their histories and their land. Our archives exist in two places: documents of slavery known as Colonial Emigration Form No. 44 and in the oral: Village dialects from India have mixed with Dutch, French, English, West-African and Indigenous Amazonian languages to create a hybrid language and culture. This creole mixture is where the strange space of our history lies. The rest lives in memory, amidst the sugar cane fields, and the infinite hours of cutting sugar-cane under the watchful eye of the sun.

“Over the next 80 years, millions would be brought across the seas, to countless nations, where plantation owners thirsted for free labour.”

Top: Wedding Photo, Polo & Budni. ca. 1940 Above: Fort Island, Guyana Below: Sugar cane fields West Coast Demerara Photos: Andrew Ananda Voogel


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The Story of a Boy I met in Punjab Anoushka Mathews, New Delhi

Top and Below: Man and Woman’s Colonial Emigration Form No. 44

When I broke the news to my parents that I had applied to a University in India and had been accepted, I was not surprised that they did not take me seriously. Soon they realized I was not joking. They tried very hard to persuade me to change my decision. I was their only son and they were fearful of letting me disappear into another time zone and continent. It was difficult to leave home knowing that I would be seeing so little of my family over the next four years. But I was excited to finally be able to pursue Architecture, a subject that had fascinated and intrigued me since I was a boy. On reaching Jalandhar I was told that the University hostels were not in a position to accommodate me. Yannick, a senior at the University who was also Burundian, was kind enough to offer a room in his apartmentto a few of us who had nowhere to go for the night. It helped that all of us were new, belonged to the same country and spoke the same language. At the University classes had begun more than a month ago. The architecture department no longer had any place for me.I was given the option of taking admission in the Civil engineering course which still had a few vacant seats.It was heartbreaking to let go of a dream I had nurtured for so many years. What I really wanted to do was build, create, make something and I had to convince myself that civil engineering could help me achieve that. –-The University had lured students from many different countries of Africa. Despite the variety of courses we were enrolled in there were some experiences we shared in common. Most of us were surprised and many times even offended at the ignorance of the Indians around us. Classmates would often start prodding my head unannounced, trying to feel my hair, exclaiming how coarse it was. Others would be surprised that my skin did not feel like that of a crocodile. It was not uncommon for me to be asked if I lived in a Jungle or a desert and if I reared tigers and lions in my backyard. Many of my teachers and classmates never bothered to ask me the name of my town or even just my country. Others confused it for some other country in Africa and still others believed that Africa itself was the name of my country. –-I did not know that food could vary so drastically from one place to the other. Many of us had grown accustomed to periodic stomach infections and visits to the hospital. It was when we were sick that we missed home the most. We were always on guard and constantly aware of the intense gaze and muttering that followed us wherever we went. Young boys on bikes would whizz by leaving a trail of abuses behind-monkey, habshi, kaalooo. This hooliganism was terrifying at first and took some getting used to. I couldn't understand why the locals hated us so much. I felt most comfortable when I was around others from Africa. They did not stare at me as if I was some strange creature. We came from different parts of the continent and so it was wonderful to be able to

meet in this foreign land. We were proud of who we were and where we came from. –-It was the night before my last exam and I was desperately fighting sleep in order to finish the last bit of revision I had left. Time and again I was distracted by the thought of the ongoing birthday party of a friend that I had with great difficulty refused to attend. There they would all be, dressed in their best, the music playing, the booze flowing, the dancing getting wilder through the night.Soon the words began to blur and I lost consciousness.When I regained consciousness everything in the world had changed. One of our friends had been brutally attacked by a group of local boys. The local boys had picked a fight with some of our friends who had made a stopover at the alcohol shop on their way to the birthday party. Our friends managed to escape from the scene to the venue of the birthday party. In the meantime the local boys, wanting to continue the fight, had gathered a group of their friends and chased the boys to the venue.At that moment Yannick, completely unaware of the altercation at the alcohol shop, happened to be walking to the party and the boys broke glass bottles on his head. They escaped in their vehicles l e a v i n g Ya n n i c k h u r t a n d unconscious. The gang of boys who had attacked Yannick mostly belonged to very well todo, powerful and connected families.They went missing soon after the incident.The police insisted that there was no racist angle to the incident and it was just a fight between young boys. There was so much anger but also sadness among the African students. Many wanted to fight back. Teach the locals a lesson. They did not want silence to be mistaken for weakness. Others were inconsolable, the incident had frightened them. Many of course remained unaffected by the incident and carried on with their lives as usual. Some of the students who were eye witnesses in the case were put under pressure by the families of the accused and ended up leaving town. Some moved to other cities, others moved back to their home country. The rest of us stayed, finding our own ways to negotiate our existence in what had become a dangerous land for us. As students, we were suddenly coming face to face with the realities of life. We did not have our parents to support us or comfort us. We were all by ourselves. We had to manage the media, speak with lawyers, doctors, police; organize protests, prayer meetings, student meetings; raise money. This was stuff we had seen in the films, how was it playing out in our real lives? The incident wasn't immediately reported in the news. It took some days for it to finally find mention in local newspapers. And soon it was all over the media. AFRICAN STUDENT ATTACKED IN RACIST INCIDENT IN PUNJAB. It wasn't long before my parents heard the news. My father, a lawyer, thought it better if I kept away from the case. My mother who was mad with worry just wanted me to come home for some

time. There was no way of explaining to them that it was impossible for me to do that. There was only so much they could do from so many thousand miles away. The University authorities, afraid ofthe negative publicity and impact that the incident could have on their large import of students from Africa, decided that it was best to keep a low profile. The police department, the judiciary, the government authorities and dignitaries and the media too were limited or restricted in the interest and empathy that they lent 'the case'. Since the incident the Burundians student's community had really come together. Each student brought their own individuality to the group. This often led to clashes of opinions or ideologies. But it was clear to all of us that we had larger battles to fight. We had to stick together and stay united. Yannick had been shifted to a hospital in Patiala where he continued to lay in a state of coma. His father had been given a room by the hospital to sleep in. We would take turns to go and visit him and his father.His father would always welcome us smiling. It was amazing to see the absolute strength with which this man conducted himself. His mother, who was there only briefly, would always be happy to have friends and classmates of Yannick visit. His father was very dignified in his conduct with the doctors, the lawyers, the courts, the police, the media. Despite the tragedy that had struck his family he courageously battled for the life of his son and for justice. The incident had left a deep scar in my mind. I would wish to wake up and for it to never have happened. For all the sadness and misery and grief to all go away. For those 5 minutes to never have happened and for Yannick to be there waving to me from the University gate. The boys were arrested two months later owing to a hue and cry on the part of the media. The trial faced many challenges but finally saw a verdict in favour of Yannick more than a year after the attack. The boys were convicted to ten years in prison for attempt to murder. Yannick's father desperately wished to take Yannick back home to Burundi, to his family and friends. However, the doctors dissuaded him from doing so claiming that the hospitals back in Bujumbra did not have the facilities required to keep Yannick alive. Also the costs for flying Yannick to Burundi were enormous. A few months later a local philanthropist and the Red Cross generated enough funds to fly Yannick back to his home. We did not know if we would be seeing him again. But we hoped in our hearts that he would somehow get better with the love and support of his family and come smiling back into our lives sometime in the future.

During her research about African students living in Punjab, Anoushka met Alan, who told her Yannick's tragic story. This is a retelling of a story that needed to be told differently. Anoushka Antonnette Mathews is a freelance filmmaker based in Delhi.


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A peek into the Hidden Stories of an African Kitchen Aastha Chauhan, New Delhi Photographs by Malini Kochupillai

Michelle and I got along. I admired her strong will and easy smile. Quick to laugh and undaunted in the face of her many problems. She ran her kitchen with a rare flair, a kitchen she had to start again not once but twice due to it being trashed completely by a mob of local neighborhood bullies inflamed by a righteous xenophobic fervor. Her indomitable spirit shone through in all her dealings. In 2012, Khoj was hosting a neighbourhood festival called KhojDustak. Ita and I were inviting local eateries to set up stalls for the festival eve. At the time African kitchens were mushrooming out of every other flat and basement in Khirkee. We extended an invitation to several African kitchens to participate in the festival. Most politely declined. Something understandable, with the kind of treatment meted out by Indians on a daily basis, skepticism and a lack of trust is perhaps valid. Michelle however,stepped up. When asked, she was philosophical - someone needed to take a first step to ease tensions, shed misinformation about her culture and the sharing of

food is a great way to do so ; She would be happy to sell her famous fish and plantain at the festival. She did not show up that evening. We figured she also decided to ditch us. I ran into her in Khirkee the day after the festival, turns out her bar and another Nigerian mans barber shop were vandalised; valuables stolen and the rest completely destroyed, the previous day. A few months on she set shop again, only this time it was bigger and better. Her new basement bar became the local hangout for almost all my friends for the next few months. Evenings were spent with fantastic fish, cheap room temperature beer and great conversations. From birthday parties to playing teen-patti during the week of Diwali, to meetings, Michelle's became our extended living room. The bar had a TV set that played Indian soap operas during the day and fantastic music from Cameroon, Nigeria and Ivory Coast in the evening. I wish I had copied that pen drive. Respected by her community, she became the leader of the Cameroonian community residing in Delhi. They hosted weekly meetings at her kitchen where women and men came dressed in their finest. She helped them

resolve issues that they were facing in Delhi, issues with the landlord, police, FRRO, hospitals, deaths and of course violence. I remember they would complain in loud angry French and she presided over these meetings with a grace that is was both calming and reassuring. Her constant complaint against me and most of my women friends was that we did not have children. When some protested by pointing out the absence of a boyfriend/ husband, she reprimanded the ladies for worrying about trivial things. Sperms for her were just that, sperms. Malini's request for writing something about Michelle and my friendship is turning into a eulogy I am afraid. Perhaps because we never got to say goodbye. Repeated threats from police and landlords finally got to her and she left. And just like that one-day Michelle's bar closed its doors and we never saw her again. I think of her often, and I am sure she thinks of me too.

Scenes from Michelle’s Kitchen Below left: Aastha Chauhan and Michelle lost in conversation

“Evenings were spent with fantastic fish, cheap room temperatu


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Hip Hop brings Khirkee Boys Recognition and New Opportunities H i p h o p i s a s u b c u l t u ra l movement that was formed during the early 1970s by AfricanAmerican and Puerto Rican youths residing in the South Bronx in New York City. Born in the high-rise public housing 'projects' as a reaction to the violence and gang culture that pervaded these spaces, HipHop culture became a way to deal with the hardships that minorities face in America, an outlet for all the energy the youth would otherwise have expended by joining gangs. Instead of fighting with each other, they started break-dancing in competition with each other. In the decades since, Hip Hop has been appropriated by urban and suburban communities across the globe as a means for the marginalized and vulnerable to express their thoughts and struggles in a high energy combination of rap music, hip hop street dancing, beat-boxing, and graffiti art. Khirkee, with its diverse socio economic and cultural demography, has been a hot bed

of this particular form of creative expression since 2009, when Hip Hop artist Hira moved here from New York and started classes for t h e n e i g h b o r h o o d s underprivileged kids. Tiny Drops, the hip hop school Hira and boys registered in 2011, soon became a hub for young kids attracted by the 'cool' factor of free style hip-hop moves and the rhythm of rap music. Writing their own raps in Hindi, the kids have found a unique means to express the harsh realities of their lives, and the struggles and hopes that propel them. Bboys MC Freezak, MC Akshay'Tashan' and H.A.R.I 'Full Craazy'have been with Tiny Drops from its beginning in 2011, and now have a crew of dancers who not only perform for various functions, but also run classes of their own for kids that are interested in learning the moves of hip hop dance culture around the city. Besides dancing and writing their own Hindi Rap songs, the boys have recently started designing their own line of Hip Hop inspired T-Shirts, under the label Khirkee 17, as a tribute to their roots.

Top: H.A.R.I Full Crazy, Akshay Tashan & MC Freezak Above: The Bboys practicing their moves Below: MC Freezak models for the Label Khirkee 17 Left, Above Left: Yemi Awosile teaches the kids screen-printing on the roof of Khoj Studios


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Culture & Lifestyle Stories from the endless resource that is the Internet

African American Yogi Breaks all Stereotypes and Sends out message of Positive Body Image Jessamyn Stanley, 27, has broken three stereotypes with one stone. Jessamyn, of African American origin, based in North-Carolina, is a plus size yoga teacher and body positive advocate. She seeks to empower those who are hesitant about their body shapes and sizes, and wants to dismantle the mystique around the 'perfect' body image. Jessamyn was in high school when she was introduced to Bikram yoga by her aunt, but she felt no affinity towards the practice. It wasn't until she was in graduate school that she restarted her yoga practice and was instantly surprised by how self-satisfying it could be. She continued to work on poses like forearm stands and side

planks, and saw her flexibility 'dramatically increase' over time. She wrote, “It just feels good to work on something, you know? To see slow progress and feel the joy of accomplishing small goals.” She experienced other health benefits as well. She has gained better muscle definition, stamina, and endurance, and her breathing and back pain have improved. Yoga, seen traditionally as a Vedic Indian practice that has been taken up with great enthusiasm by the West, is still not a practice that has been accessed by the African c o m m u n i t y i n a b i g w a y. Jessamyn's decision to teach yoga is therefore an unprecedented break in stereotypes.

Dragonfly Flies Thousands of Miles from India to Africa Without Breaking Fragile Wings

E v e r y y e a r, m i l l i o n s o f dragonflies fly thousands of kilometres across the sea from southern India to Africa, says biologist Charles Anderson in the Maldives. He claims to have discovered the longest migration of any insect. If confirmed, it would be the first known insect migration across open ocean water. It would also eclipse the famous trip taken each year by Monarch butterflies, which fly just half the distance across the Americas. Each year, millions of dragonflies arrive on the Maldive Islands, a phenomenon well-known to

people living there. Anderson has published details of the mass migration in the Journal of Tropical Ecology. "But no-one I have spoken to knew where they came from," he says, an independent biologist who usually works with organisations such as the Maldivian Marine Research Centre to survey marine life around the islands. Anderson noticed the dragonflies after he first arrived in the Maldives in 1983. He started keeping detailed records each year from 1996 and now collates data collected by local observers at other localities in the Maldives, in India and on vessels at sea.

Long Dark Indian Locks a Hot Commodity Across Africa

From Chennai, BBC's Justine Lang made a report on how India's human hair factory helps Africa. She looked at the Tirupati temple and the thousands of women who sacrifice their hair. Their locks are then sold, which forms the basis of a lucrative business. 40-50m pilgrims visit every year, and the hair collected come around to about 500 tonnes every year. Long hair on women is often considered virtuous, making the sacrifice even more profound. One pilgrim says “When we come to the temple, we come with our problem…so the sacrifice should be very meaningful.” The hair factories have some very labour intensive sections, like the steaming and curling one. The

Chief of Operations of Raj Hair International, T.V. Subramanian, says that the curled hair is especially popular among the African population. The workers follow a systematic and careful process of curling and steaming, a labourious task that ends with beautiful results. “My future is in Africa”, says Benjamin C h e r i a n , founder of Raj H a i r International, “When the women come into the shop, I

see their faces gleaming with happiness…there is so much hair that they cant believe it! The women are so overjoyed, I cant describe it to you… they feel their beauty is enhanced by wearing this hair.”

India and African Nations Share Love of Colourful Textiles and Motifs Sartorial norms function as cultural benchmarks, carriers of sociocultural meaning. They are also signifiers of the immense history of colonial oppression and resistance that both these spaces carry. Some sartorial elements common to both Indian and African cultures are heavy embroidery, extensive use of colour, vibrancy of patterns and intricacy of design. There is negligible resonance with western fashion which ususally focuses on design in conjunction with a working theme, and seeks to retain a larger unity among its pieces, be it interms of colour palette or pattern; African and Indian fashions focus largely on variations in textile, and the conglomeration of disjointed patterns and styles to create pieces of bright colours and prints. These textiles often integrate metallic elements like gold zari through embroidery, resulting in highly intricate and elaborate styles and heavy pieces. The ethnic African and Indian sartorial styles have also been

taken to h i g h street fashion o n several occasion s. One of Mariane Fassler's ensembl es from the 2010 Johannesburg Fashion Week combined leopard prints with the colours of the African flag, a decision that resonated with the cultural ethos of the nation, since leopard prints are seen as a symbol of elegance and regality among various South African ethnic groups. In the same y e a r, P a r i s s a w ' T h e L a s t Maharajas' an exhibition of the costumes of the Grand Durbar ( 1 9 11 - 1 9 4 7 ) c o m p r i s i n g t h e textiles of Deepak and DakshaHutheesing.The exhibition featured chogas in brocade and embroideries, abhas (worn by the Kutchi women, made with tie and dye and heavy zardozi work) vests, turbans, shervanis, caps among

other items. Both shows reveal larger social codes that have operated within the nations, and are also perhaps nostalgic for a past where clothing steeped in cultural authenticity.


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www.khojworkshop.org Malini Kochupillai

Travel Diary of an Indian in Ghana

Persis Taraporevala, New Delhi

It has been a year since I visited Ghana, a beautiful country on the western coast of Africa. My time there, though short, was filled with experiences that were both familiar and deeply diverse from my own life in India. During my visit, I spent much of my time in the capital city of Accra. I was in town to attend a conference within the sprawling campus of the University of Ghana and lived near the University in the suburb of East Legon, just off a large arterial road. The buildings around were low and only a couple of storys high. And as I walked down the road on my first morning in Accra I could see how expansive the space was and how similar it looked to my own home in the Western Ghats in India. There were mango, neem and subabul trees around me, and bougainvillea flowers at hand. The older houses had the colonial structure that reminded me of houses in Pune and Bangalore, large, rambling houses with tiled roofs and quiet entrances. The walls and trees were covered in flyers for school tuition classes or religion and I laughed, as it seemed strange to have travelled over ten thousand kilometres to come to a country that reminded

me so much of my own. After work, a few of us would steal out and get some food and a drink. We were near the sea and took advantage of this to eat fresh seafood. The basic combination was a starch-based dish with meat and sauces. The starch could be rice or maize based. The Banku was a fermented corn dough that you could mix with the fish or chicken and if your palette called for more chilly you could add the green or red sauces that topped the dish. Instead of Banku, one could also eat Fufu which was pounded plantain or cassava or Jollof rice. Soups with a mix of meats was also common and sumptuous. One cannot talk about food in Ghana without talking about their cocoa! They are exporters of cocoa beans and make chocolate and chocolate based drinks, often adding just water to the cocoa and drinking it without much sugar! My favourite meal was in the equivalent of a dhaba by a petrol pump, where we ordered every form of seafood and enjoyed the fresh fish, calamari and prawns as they were brought to us. There was no alcohol in the dhaba, so they pointed us to an alcohol shop, where we proceeded to buy some alcohol and have it with our food. It was a joy to eat food that was so fresh and lightly cooked! In terms of travel, there is quite a bit to do in the country. With our limited time, I saw the city and there are a few memorials that a visitor must catch. The first is to the Kwame Nkrumah memorial, which his Egyptian wife modelled after

the tombs of the pharaohs. The second is the resting ground of renowned American author and civil rights activist W.E.B. du Bois, as Ghana was where he and his wife spent their last few years. The Nkrumah memorial is adjacent to the crafts market where one can procure little trinkets like earrings to leather bags and traditionally woven Kente cloth to drums and other musical instruments. As in all shopping places in the global south, you are encouraged to bargain and some shopkeepers were very disappointed when I said I didn't like bargaining, almost losing interest in me as a customer completely! One site people should visit is the Elmina Castle a few hours outside Accra. The drive there is beautiful and the history of the space is both compelling and haunting. The castle was an erstwhile prison and one of the largest hubs of slave trade in the Atlantic. The guided tour of the space is disturbing and one moves from the luxurious rooms at the top which could compete with any beach resort where the colonising powers stayed to the dungeons below where men and women were chained and shipped from a space called – the point of no return. Because once a man left the castle, he left a slave and never returned. There is still much I have to see in the country, there were wildlife parks, beaches and performances at the world class national theatre. Six days were not enough and I will be back Ghana.

Young Refugee from Somalia tells his Story Abdul Aziz Abdul Kadir, New Delhi

So Where Do I Start. I Was Born In Somalia, Mogadishu, On January 28th 1993. The Youngest Of my Parents five boys. We spent few years of my childhood there until the war became hectic. At that period my father worked In the Department Of Agriculture. Prior to us moving and settling In Pune, then a small city In Maharashtra, India. On May of 1998, living with my aunt starting school In a foreign land where it was clear that I was different, not knowing the language. But as time went by and I got used to the people, they got used to me and vice versa. At that moment I remember it was hard time for my older siblings. Life was good when we moved to Nairobi, Kenya to my parents and stayed there for 18 Months. Kenya was different. Before kenya, I did not have much of an idea about the African Continent, or Kenya as a country. I didnt feel like an outsider. It was new, but felt familiar. I have no particular memories of Somalia other than my aunt and parents talking about its former glory, how

Mogadishu was known as ‘The pearl of the Indian Ocean’.’ On January 1 2006, we moved back to Pune. this time, things were not as tough as before. As far as I can recall, I remember being excited to go back to school, meeting my old friends, coming back to a place I know. I remember going back to the my old school. I was nervous, but then again shocked as to how they still knew who I was. I stayed there another 3yrs. We had to move to Delhi because our visas expired and we were asked to go back to Somalia, which wasn't really an option. So we moved to delhi to be able to stay In India under the protection of The United Nation High Commission For Refugees (UNCHR). Now Delhi was full of new experiences, bad and good ones. It was horrible in the beginning, I faced lots of racism. But as it is, I tried to live through all of it. I started to go to school, finished my 12th grade, then stayed over a year. Now I live In Pune once again and I go to a University In Pune where I am a First Year Political Science Student.

Clockwise from Left: Legon Tower, Religious Flyers in Accra, Classes for Maths and Science in Accra, Elmina castle

Enquiries and Feedback We hope you have enjoyed reading our experimental newspaper. We would love to hear back from you with any questions or comments, both positive and negative feedback are welcome. If you have the time and patience, it would be great to have your thoughts on the questions below. Do you have suggestions for other topics that this newspaper could cover in future special editions? Would you pay to subscribe to a newspaper like this? How much would you be willing to pay for a yearly subscription? Do you have suggestions for personal interest stories in your neighborhoods that you would like to share with the city? Do you think every neighborhood in the city should have a newspaper like this? Feel free to email us at Khirkeevoice@gmail.com. We look forward to hearing from you!


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Bangalore Based Photographer Hopes to Bridge Racial Divides with his Work Mahesh Shantaram, New Delhi

In early February this year, I woke up to the news of a mob attack on a Tanzanian student in Bangalore. It was not the first incident of violence against Africans in India, but this particular incident made me curious about Africans in India, and through them, the harsh truths about racism in our country. Since that day, I've been traveling (Bangalore, Manipal, Hyderabad, Jaipur, and Jalandhar) to meet African students learn more about their experiences in India. As I make friends, I also make portraits to preserve that encounter in a way that I know best. A portrait can have the power to make one stop and stare (which anyway is a national pastime) and evoke the viewer's curiosity about the life and condition of the subject. As a community, I have discovered

that foreign students are the most vulnerable. They are part of a loosely regulated industry which brings with it certain insecurities and puts them at the mercy of The System. These students, leaders of tomorrow's Africa, look at India as some sort of mecca for higher education. College years are typically the best years of our lives—full of innocence, adventure, experimentation. But because of their skin colour and our legendary prejudice against dark skin, the African student's life in India resembles a prison sentence. Soon, apart from their student commitments, they take on additional roles: victim, survivor, activist, revolutionary. When I started this project in Bangalore, it was a simple matter of meeting Africans to get to know more about them. My time in Delhi and at Khoj, has unravelled many

more stories. The many conversations I've had so far with Africans as well as other scholars have served to both broaden and deepen my perspective into complex issues. Through this project—both the portraits and the accompanying stories—I want to raise awareness of how racism and xenophobia is such a waste of human potential. We are at the cusp of coming to terms with the idea of racism and

how to deal with it. As a photographer and artist, I will use my power and ability to draw national attention to the matters of racial discrimination. Africans are accustomed to meeting Indians in hostile spaces—police stations, TV studios, and hospitals—whenever there is an "incident". As this work travels across India, it will bring together Indians and Africans for a conversation in a space of art and culture. Imagine that.

Mahesh Shantaram is a photographer based in Bangalore. His work titled The African Portraits is touring India and will be shown in Delhi in May 2017. Mahesh Shantaram

Mahesh Shantaram

Andrew Voogel

Where is your village? Swati Janu, New Delhi

I set up a phone recharge shop in Khirkee Extension this month. The shop became my window into Khirkee and a medium to engage with the community. Like the other phone shops, I started providing movies and songs for mobile phones to customers, but on one condition – that they give me any video or songs of their choice from their phone memory cards in return. I wanted to see if it is possible to bring people together through the medium of music and videos. Could we understand and get to know each other better through this exchange? Would Afghanis like listening to Nepali music? Would the Biharis on the street want to listen to music from the diverse African nations? Music has no language. The Azan passes over everyone equally five times a day in Khirkee. I found that the Biharis liked watching dubbed 'Madrasi' films as much as Bhojpuri films. Bollywood is as popular in Nigeria as it is here; Shahrukh Khan is as big a star there as here. The uniqueness of Khirkee comes from the fact that people from diverse Indian states and countries live here. Once we get to know the other person better, we realize that everyone here is from somewhere else. I asked everyone who came to my shop where they were from. In Delhi, 'where is your village' is a common way of asking where one is from as most people have

migrated here from other states. Through my shop, I found out that everyone's story was similar to the other person's – someone has come for a better education from another country while someone has come from another state to make a better living. Someone is working hard to make enough money to be able to go back to his village to see the face of his one month old child for the first time while someone else cannot go back to his country as his home is no more. Everyone has carried a piece of their home with them here, which they still keep with them at all times. Swati Janu

S w a t i i s a c o m m u n i t y architect who has been working at enabling lowi n c o m e communities in building their houses. She was one of the artists in residence at Khoj over the last month.

Top right: Swati at her phone recharge shop Right: Swati’s view of a Khirkee Street


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Aspiring Nigerian Actor Dreams of making it Big in Bollywood Mahavir Singh Bisht, New Delhi

Jason has dreamt of working with big Bollywood stars since childhood. As far back as he can remember, he loved watching Hindi films, and would gather his friends after to play act with them, pretending to be AmitabhBachan. His only disappointment being that his friends wouldn't fly as far back as in the movies when he kicked them. After having struggled and worked hard for many years, Jasons dreams are finally coming true, he recently worked in the film Dangal with Amir Khan. Jason's own life is like a Bollywood story, with its own twist. Jason was born in a small town in Nigeria, and became fascinated with the flash and pomp of Bollywood at a early age. He was a fan of movie stars like AmitabhBachan, Manoj Kumar, Hema Malini, Rekha etc, whose films he would watch obsessively. His only dream was to come to India and become a Bollywood star. His friends would make fun of him for his dreams, but this is what he wanted most. Finally, in 2011, Jason decided to try his luck and moved to Delhi to pursue his dreams, enrolling himself in an acting school in Noida. Alas, life had other plans for him, and his acting career had to be put on hold unexpectedly. Upon arriving in Delhi, he found himself accommodation in KhirkeeExtenion, he knew no one in the city except his landlord. One day Jason hurt his foot while chasing a squirrel from his home,

and had to go to a hospital nearby to get treatment. On his way out of the hospital, a mob of people surrounded him suddenly and just started kicking and punching him. Jason was clueless about what was happening, he had been in the city for less than a week. The mob was looking for someone named Percy, and mistook Jason for him. Even after trying to tell the mob repeatedly that he was a student, they continued to attack him. Jason kept thinking how different this India was from the films he watched growing up. The police wouldn't let him go without a bribe, and Jason did not want to give any as he was innocent. Jason was put in Jail, and spent the next two years in the India Judicial system, trying to prove his innocence. But Jason was determined to not let his dreams die without a fight, he started reading extensively in jail, joined the open university, and taught himself a course in designing. He also started to write to High Court judges pleading his case. His hard work and perseverance paid off, and his case is coming to a close soon, his innocence finally established. Life was no cakewalk after being released from jail, with no money, and no friends, Jason came back to Khirkee to try and reestablish a footing in the city, determined to try another hand at Bollywood.With a new lease for a tiny room for Rs.200 a night, Jason set out to look for work, and with the help of Khirkee based artist and activist AasthaChauhan, got some

photography gigs that got him started afresh. It was time for Bollywood. One day, while hanging out at the mall across from Khirkee Extension, Jason met someone who knew people in Bollywood. Jason gave him his phone number. A few moths later, Jason got a call form the man asking him to come to Mumbai for an audition for a film

related to wrestling, being produced by Amir Khan. Jason could hardly believe what he was hearing, and flew to Mumbai for the audition in daze. A few months later he got a call form an agent offering him a role in Dangal, which he accepted in a flash. The first day of shooting, at Tyagraj stadium in Delhi, is still fresh in his mind. Finally seeing his childhood

Bollywood dreams come true, Jason makes sure he gives every shot his absolute best, managing to attract Amir Khan's attention, leading to more time on screen. As Jason starts to get more and more parts in Bollywood films, Jason is more determined than ever to succeed.


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