Independent consultant and blogger in Dar es Salaam
We were sitting around a table shooting the breeze at a gathering when an excellent storyteller took the centre stage. I can’t remember for the life of me what she spoke about, but it took what felt like hours.
When she was done, hoarse with laughing at us, we protested. One more story! As we left, therapised and relaxed, it occurred to me that this is where it comes from. The ones who make us laugh and, in so doing, lift us up.
Of all the arts and craft, comedy must be one of the oldest. Long before the first person set a painting hand to a cave wall, someone acted the fool. We talk, therefore we make jokes, thank goodness. Makes a work day go quickly, sometimes it even makes a funeral lighter. We used to have teasing culture here, but it is falling out of favour as the solemnities of religion squeeze joy out in favour of hymns and piety.
It’s understandable. Comedy can be clean or edgy or downright dumb, but it is always subversive. That’s what makes it slyly political. Comedians will say things about society that few of us would dare to utter. Maybe the shock is cushioned by a laugh and we do come out of it feeling better, but there will be recognisable truths in there, and leaders make wonderful targets.
Fine public service
I often talk about the work of the griot — praise singer, jester, counsel to the regent. Comedians are a part of that fine public service. If you take away the jester part, the counselling doesn’t work. And, if there’s one thing I have come to believe our African heads of state need, it is people who will tell them the truth. They are human, they get busy, they get the stupidest ideas sometimes. And we all need a friend during those times to tell us, however gently, to stay in touch with reality and with the people.
It is for this reason that, along with journalists, comedians are often either gagged or censored. It’s a universal test. Travel to a country and see whom they can make fun of, and who makes them nervous. It will tell you more about political freedoms than a chatty taxi driver. Comedians are the last of the public intellectuals left, who believe their work should be as accessible as possible.
Industry growing
The industry seems to be growing in the region. While I still mourn our once-upon-a-time television parodies, stand-up comedy seems to be taking up that space. East Africans love to laugh —those who can afford to love to laugh — and, apart from stand-up we have taken social media by the throat and squeezed every ounce of possibility out of it. Sometimes, instead of dry news, jokes will make the rounds to inform us of what is going on.
Jokes save lives. They are our survival mechanism, and the sheath that can safely keep our darkest impulses wrapped away from harm when we are lucky. Comedians make our days better but also safer, even when it is not safe for them. We are people, we live and die by the word. The storytellers who keep us enthralled know this and do us a favour. Besides, even in this day and age there isn’t another group in the region that is so eager to wear drag, but that’s a question for another day.
Stay safe, think of the Sudanese and remember, for your own health, not to take anyone too seriously — not yourself, and especially not your leaders.
Elsie Eyakuze is an independent consultant and blogger for The Mikocheni Report; Email [email protected]
