April 3rd was the long-awaited inauguration of the grand monument de la renaissance africaine. The conception, image, and cost of the monument have inspired conflict since Wade commissioned it [year?]. Personally, I'm not a huge fan. It towers over my neighborhood, Wakam, one of the poorer neighborhoods in Dakar, a massive reminder of the money that is not being spent on electricity, public health, and education in this neighborhood, in this city, in this country. The irony inspires bitter laughter, particularly on the (frequent) nights when the power is out in Wakam, yet the monument's lights are still shining brightly over the city. In the last few weeks, they added a circlet of color-changing lights around the man's head, as well as two rows of lamps lighting the grand stairways up to the monument. So of course I wanted to be there for the inauguration celebration.
We'd watched the preparations for this day for months, the final touches of the monument: the addition of lamps lighting the path, the more recent cleaning up the landscape around the monument, the construction of platforms, seating, and large viewing screens. The afternoon of April 3rd, traffic was ridiculous in Wakam, and, apparently, all over the city. Of course, it was also Independence Day weekend, the 50th anniversary of Senegal's independence, nominally a fitting moment to inaugurate any grand monument of African renaissance... My friend and I approached the monument from behind, following crowds of schoolchildren wearing clothes made special (we guessed by the government) printed with pictures of the monument. Later, we saw these same crowds of children seated at the foot of the monument, a beautiful photo-op of Senegal's, and Africa's, future. (Sensing some sarcasm? I'm letting it all out here). Those kids sat there all day, through the entire afternoon of hot sun.
There weren't many other toubabs (foreigners, non-Senegalese) wandering around in the crowd, so we bore the brunt of a lot of conversations about Jesse Jackson and Obama (and marriage proposals). I bought a huge flag from a young girl (the government gave them out free to children earlier in the day) for 500CFA (about a dollar) and then wielded questions about my support for Wade. Trhoughout nearly my entire walk home from the monument, I must have refused about 15 requests to "Donne-moi le drapeau!" (Give me the flag) from people of all ages. Admittedly, its a really big flag, and I don't look remotely Senegalese (so what would I want with a flag?).
The monument is still garishly lit every night, and continues to tower over Dakar, the nearly nude woman clutching desperately to her strong, powerful male leader, who holds aloft what President Wade apparently envisions as the child of Africa's future, whose gargantuan finger points toward the West, away from Africa. And all of this can be seen out the window of all planes flying in and out of Dakar.
Uggh. What arrogance. Let's just hope that *something* good comes of it--maybe providing a nice little jungle gym for neighborhood kids?
ReplyDelete(Also, I prefer the headless man version in your first picture. That seems to undermine the misogynist/colonialist/general phallic vibes nicely.)
Good narrative!
ReplyDeleteI saw this statue every fucking day on the way to class.
ReplyDeleteUgh.
Also, a reporter told us Wade is claiming 30% of all "profits" from the statue because it was his vision. Oh Grandfather Wade, you're ridiculously senile.