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Photo by Guerchom Ndebo / AFP) (Photo by GUERCHOM NDEBO/AFP via Getty Images.

Goma residents are seen leaving the city following a sudden activity of the Nyiragongo volcano on May 22, 2021.

The Nyiragongo Volcano Might Erupt Again Following Alarming Seismic Activity in Rwanda

An earthquake on the border between Rwandan and the Democratic Republic of Congo has raised concerns about a second eruption, days after the sudden eruption of the Mount Nyiragongo volcano.

The Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC) is facing more woes following an earthquake of 5.3 magnitude, recorded by the Rwandan Seismic Monitor. The earthquake, which occurred this past Monday, has raised fears that the Mount Nyiragongo volcano situated in the DRC could erupt once again, following its volatile eruption that left 32 people dead this past weekend. Approximately 1000 houses have been destroyed, and 5000 people displaced in the DRC. These stats could rise as the earthquake tremors have caused concerns that the volcanic crater, reportedly refilled with lava, will erupt again.


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According to TimesLIVE, the earthquake took place at 11:03 AM on Monday, May 24, in the Rugerero area located west of Rwanda. The earthquake initially started off with at 4.7 magnitude, which continued until Tuesday with a recorded 5.3 magnitude and 100 tremors. The tremors are reportedly slowly decreasing. While these successive natural disasters come across as worrying and unnatural, they in fact are connected. According to Africa CGTN, seismologist Tite Niyitegeka from Rwanda Mines, Petroleum and Gas Board explained that the volcano-tectonic earthquakes are produced by vibrations generated by the movement of magma within the volcano. The earthquake affected 650 people in Rwanda and has halted activities in businesses, schools, hospitals and markets due to a fissure that appeared during the earthquake.

On Saturday, the Mount Nyiragongo volcano erupted suddenly demolishing over 17 towns in DRC's Goma and causing over 30 000 inhabitants to flee. According to IOL, over half a million people have lost access to drinking water and there is no electricity due to the damage of caused by the lava. According to a BBC News report, the number of homeless people has risen to 120 000 and the most severe impact has been the separation of children from their parents. The Red Cross is reportedly attempting to reunite mothers.

Authorities in DRC and Rwanda have warned people to take caution until the lava and tectonic shifts have stopped indefinitely.

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Photo by Chris Jackson - WPA Pool/Getty Images

Africa Reacts To The Death of Queen Elizabeth II

The passing of the longest-reigning British monarch has stirred emotions, and the renewed vocal criticism of her legacy among Africans left little to the imagination.

It's the end of an era and the world has been reacting to the death of Queen Elizabeth II, who died at the age of 96 this Thursday, as announced by The British Royal Family via their official Twitter account. Elizabeth Alexandra Mary Windsor will go down in history as the longest reigning British monarch, as she oversaw the people of Britain for 70 years. News of the queen's declining health had social media ablaze, with many either sharing their condolences or comedic jabs as the situation unfolded. Many African countries were subjected to British rule at some point in their history, so the diaspora had a lot to say about the monarch's Earthly departure.

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Photo Credit: Father’s Day (Kivu Ruhorahoza)

The 10 Best African Films of 2022 So Far

Young new filmmakers are emerging and more African films are being welcomed by the biggest film festivals around the world. Here are the standout African movies of 2022 so far.

We are at the halfway point and it has been an interesting year for African films so far.

Throughout the continent, the box office continues to recover from Covid-19 shutdowns. (Nigeria had its biggest hit ever with King of Thieves, which has raked in more than N300 million.) Young new filmmakers are emerging and more films are being welcomed by the biggest film festivals around the world.

While streaming platforms continue to deepen investments on the continent as they seek to expand their reach. So, when constructing our list of 2022 movies, we had a lot to choose from.

Here are the best African movies of 2022 so far.

Father’s Day (Rwanda)

A struggling masseuse is devastated by the accidental death of her son. A caring daughter contemplates donating an organ to save her ailing father. A small-time criminal drags his young son into his dangerous world. With the poignant Father’s Day, Kivu Ruhorahoza weaves three separate stories set in and around the city of Kigali. Presented with precision and emotional intensity, Father’s Day is a bracing, humane interrogation of the effects of traditional patriarchal systems.

For Maria (Ẹ̀bùn Pàtàkì) (Nigeria)

In Damilola Orimogunje’s stark domestic drama, a first-time mother (a volcanic Meg Otanwa) cannot bring herself to bond with her newborn after suffering a difficult delivery. The filmmaker and his strong cast of actors are able to create a realist piece of cinema that powers through limited resources and shines with intent. With mood, colors, shadows and silences, For Maria (Ẹ̀bùn Pàtàkì) paints a convincing and heartbreaking picture of postpartum depression.

King of Thieves (Nigeria)

This hugely entertaining romp, written and shot in the Yoruba language enjoyed massive crossover success at the Nigerian box office where it became the highest grossing film of the year so far. Directed by the duo of Adebayo Tijani and Tope Adebayo, the ambitious King of Thieves brings to life ancient Yoruba mythology with the story of a once prosperous kingdom caught in the grip of powerful bandit. Employing neat CGI tricks, a parade of hardworking actors and sheer narrative gusto, King of Thieves reaches beyond its obvious limitations.

Juwaa (DRC/Belgium)

A quietly contained drama, Juwaa is the first feature film from Nganji Mutiri, an artist and filmmaker originally from Bukavu who is now living in Brussels. Juwaa is set in both countries and observes a mother (Babetida Sadjo) and her estranged son (Edson Anibal) who are both survivors of a traumatic past as they reconcile and gradually renegotiate the layers of their relationship. Mutiri is working with limited resources and, while his film isn’t perfect, he reaches for big themes and grand ideas.

Lingui, the Sacred Bonds (Chad/France/Belgium/Germany)

The iconic Mahamat-Saleh Haroun returns to his native Chad with this timely and fiercely feminist socio-realist drama that tackles the beast that is abortion rights in a conservative society. Amina (Achouackh Abakar Souleymane) is an independent woman who finds herself in a race against the forces of patriarchy when her fifteen-year-old daughter Maria (Rihane Khalil Alio) gets pregnant. Amina supports her daughter as they try to get an abortion, a procedure that is both frowned upon by Islam and illegal in Chad.

Neptune Frost (Rwanda/USA)

Neptune (Cheryl Isheja), an intersex hacker is guided by magnetic pull to Digitaria, an outcast enclave in the hills of Burundi peopled by rebel hackers. There, they are joined by Matalusa (Bertrand Ninteretse), a miner mourning the loss of a loved one. As these outcasts journey on, they sing, dance, trade ideas and fend off interference from operatives of the state, all the while debating ideas and swapping concerns on what it means to exist on the fringes. Neptune Frost is a radical new vision conceived and co-directed by the duo of Rwandan filmmaker Anisia Uzeyman and Saul Williams.

No Simple Way Home (Kenya/South Africa/South Sudan)

For Akuol de Mabior’s debut feature length film, she turns inwards to her family’s legacy and grapples with difficult questions. What is the meaning of home? And what duty does she owe her people as a child of renowned politicians and freedom fighters? Born and raised in exile, de Mabior follows her mother and sister in South Sudan as they play their parts in nation building.

Silverton Siege (South Africa)

It is Silverton, Pretoria in 1980. And three armed activists of the ANC’s uMkhonto we Sizwe faction take a bank hostage. It ends in tears. Forty-two years later, these freedom fighters were immortalized in this splashy Netflix caper directed by Mandla Dube. Starring Thabo Rametsi as the leader of the group, Silverton SiegeSiege benefits from Dube’s eye for periodic detail and his affinity for setting up brisk action scenes. The film works best and delivers the thrills when it doubles down on the action set pieces.

Tug of War (Vuta N’Kuvute) (Tanzania/South Africa/Qatar/Germany)

The first Tanzanian film to screen at the Toronto International Film Festival (TIFF) is an adaptation of a hugely popular Swahili novel by author Shafi Adam Shafi. Co-written and directed by Amil Shivji (T-Junction), Tug of War is a visually appealing saga about a pair of star-crossed lovers caught up in the throes of the British occupation of Zanzibar. A young revolutionary fighting for self-actualization of his homeland falls for a rebellious Indian-Zanzibari woman fleeing an arranged marriage. Can they make it work?

We, Students! (Central African Republic/France/DRC/Saudi Arabia)

Rafiki Fariala was a student of Economics at the University of Bangui when he decided to film his experiences and those of his friends as they struggled to graduate in one of the most challenging places on the continent to be a student. Rough around the edges but oddly charming, We, Students! is the end result of Fariala’s efforts. The film received its world premiere at the Berlinale and tells a familiar story of systemic corruption, preying lecturers and depressing campus living conditions. Triumphing above all these challenges is the indomitable will of the students.

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Photo: Cyrille Choupas

Alice Diop On Using Film to Center Marginalized Stories

The French director, whose latest film Saint Omer has been selected by France as its submission for the Best International Picture race, is known for her nuanced portraits of humanity.

“When I hear myself through Nicholas, I find me [sic] too radical!” French filmmaker Alice Diop jokes during our conversation, after hearing some of her words and thoughts filtered through her translator Nicholas Elliott.

Diop was responding passionately to a question about the tensions in France between holding onto assimilation policies and embracing a more modern ethos of inclusion and diversity. She is tying her argument to the radical leaning of French republicanism, which is very, very different from the conservative spirit embraced by the Republican party in the United States, where she is expected to appear in October to present her latest film, Saint Omer at the New York Film Festival.

Saint Omer marks Diop’s transition to fiction after seventeen years working as a documentary filmmaker. The film, which won the Grand Jury prize and best debut feature prizes recently at the Venice Film Festival where it debuted, is a wrenching legal drama that follows a young novelist Rama (Kayije Kagame) covering the trial of an immigrant mother accused of infanticide.

Before her triumph at Venice, Diop was in New York to promote the MUBI release of her latest documentary, We (Nous), which premiered at the 2021 Berlinale, where it won the Encounters Grand Prize. The film chronicles a disparate group of people, including an immigrant mechanic and a writer from the Parisian suburbs, and places their lives in connection to the RER B commuter train cutting through the city from the north to south. Diop makes We (Nous) a personal declaration of belonging, weaving footage from her family archive and trailing her sister, a home nurse, at work as she provides care for her patients.

Diop, who is a first-generation daughter of immigrants from Senegal had a wide-ranging chat with OkayAfrica about her films, belonging to French society, and her reasons for prioritizing the stories of the marginalized.

Interview has been edited for length and clarity.

In We (Nous), you are telling these seemingly unrelated stories without obvious connections. What is the common thread linking these stories or people together?

The link is a very personal vision that I have of French society. It is a vision that is at once a dreamed vision but also something already there and not many people see. It is about what can unite people who appear to be so different in a single territory or country. And in a sense, the thread is one that I am weaving myself. It doesn’t exist as such but something very subjective.

In terms of constructing the film, what was the starting point for you?

It started from the book, The Passengers of the Roissy Express published in France about 30 years ago. It is a nonfiction book in which the writer, François Maspero takes the RER B train and follows it to the last stop. This is the train that has the peculiarity of crossing all of the Paris banlieues (low-income suburbs) from north to south. Now these are very different areas that have a great diversity of populations that really express the complexity of French society. I read this book, and it gave me the framework for using the name of the train to describe these very different territories.

A still from the film, We (Nous) of train tracks.

We (Nous) chronicles a disparate group of people, including an immigrant mechanic and a writer from the Parisian suburbs, and places their lives in connection to the RER B commuter train cutting through the city from the north to south.

Photo: Mubi

At what point does your family come in and how do you weave them into the narrative?

This film is a composition of the singularities of the many different people who live and work in France, and my family is part of that history. That is why I wanted to use our family archive in the film because it is a symbolic way of inscribing these traces of my family, and people like them, who are not shown in the constitution of French society. The archive, for me, completes a missing part of French history. I have so little in terms of archives of my family. I have only less than 17 minutes of images of my mother and everything that I have is in this film. That is something very painful; the lives that my parents had were not necessarily appreciated. These were lives that were not epic or did not have the right narratives. At least that was the feeling that I had because the people that I saw on television, in films and novels were not like me. They did not have my history or background, so I grew up with that absence. And I think that is why I became a filmmaker, to repair the violence of having this unrepresented life.

In a sense, this film, and your entire career has been about adjusting this narrative?

Absolutely. This question touches me because this is at the very heart of my filmmaking. I have done this work ever since the desire came upon me to do it, as a way to not succumb to the anger. My new (fiction) film, Saint Omer is focused on Black women, and is inspired by my mother, and it made me realize how much I needed to do this. I want to add up their bodies in film and in history.

Film, for me, is not a space for entertainment, it is a space for revenge and self-care. Saint Omer is not about the banlieues at all. I believe that people from the banlieues have every right to make films that are not about the banlieues. It is about maternity, and I have every right to talk about maternity because it is a question that is relevant to Black women, as much as it is to white women. I am speaking from my own body, and I think the closer I am to myself, the more likely I am to touch other people.

In the film, you talk about not paying into the family fund that ensures you are buried back home in Senegal. Was coming to this realization difficult?

Exile is not just measured in economic gain; it is also a loss that I cannot even qualify. This relationship to the land where you will be buried, I find it a beautiful thing to choose where you are going to die. But the most concrete way of saying where you belong is to say where you are going to be buried. And for me to say it publicly the way I did was for me to cut myself off. I have a 13-year-old mixed race son who was born and lives in France. I speak French, I don’t speak Wolof. I go to Senegal twice a year at most. I am a Frenchwoman.

Now, I am a very particular kind of Frenchwoman; I am a Black woman with colonial history so the most concrete way for me to be French is to say I am going to be buried where my son lives, or where he is most probably going to live. And that’s not a choice between France and Senegal that I am making, it is a way of saying that I am in harmony with where I am. But it does separate me forever from the place where my parents came from. It is hard to think about, even in this conversation with you. It is the entire complexity that is raised here: of the path of immigrants, of the trajectories of coming and of going, of where you are. It is something that is so complex and intense that merely signifying it is already an achievement. It is also a very universal question.

A still from the film We (Nous) of the filmmaker sitting at a table with an interviewee.

Alice Diop and Pierre Bergounioux in a pivotal moment from We (Nous).

Photo: Mubi

And when you put yourself in the frame by the end of the film, are you completing this tapestry that you are sewing?

In a sense. My appearing with my Black woman’s body in the frame, next to this writer Pierre Bergounioux, in his office is a way for me to get revenge for my father for the 40 difficult years he spent working in France. There is a point in the film when I ask my father if spending these years in France has been positive or negative, and he says it’s been a positive gain overall. But I have the intuition that for his daughter to be able to go to university and do things that as a working man, and my mother as a cleaning woman, never had the opportunity to do, and then to show myself in the frame next to this white writer in the film that I am making -- that I have invited the writer to -- I think that shows something about French society and what it can allow. And that repairs, to some degree, the pain that my parents experienced by coming here to offer me a life that they could not have.

Translation by Nicholas Elliott.

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Photo by: Robert Okine

Fans Want Davido's 'FEM' To Be Nominated For the 'Social Change' Grammy

During the #EndSARS movement, Davido's 'FEM' became an unlikely rally battle cry. Now, Nigerians want to see the song get an accolade for its role in one of Nigeria's most talked about protests in recent time.


Earlier this year, The Recording Academy announced that it would be releasing new categories under its award sections, and one of these songs included was for Best Song for Social Change.

Davido fans have caught on to this change. And they are now pushing for "FEM" to be one of the songs nominated. In a recent Twitter frenzy, a bevy of Davido fans are saying that the Nigerian Afrobeats singer deserves the award for his song, which became an unexpected call to arms for the #EndSARS coalition. According to the Academy, the determining criteria for the "Best Song for Social Change" category would be based on the principle that the song inspired some form of social good that benefitted the general public, and Nigerian Twitter seems to think Davido's controversial record fits the bill. Many people are taking their opinions a step further by submitting their votes to the Recording Academy's website in droves.

Following the tragedy of the October 20, 2020 protests at Lekki toll gate in Lagos, Nigeria, the #EndSARS conversation continues to leave a bitter taste in the mouths of many Nigerians. The movement sparked global outrage after a group of young people across Nigeria took to the streets calling for the end of the Special Anti-Robbery Squad (SARS). During this time, Davido's "FEM," became the unanimous battlecry for the social justice initiative.

The word "FEM" translates into "shut up," and although the "Stand Strong" singer did not intend for the song to be linked to the campaign, according to his statement to NME, it essentially became a voice for the mega rallies for justice. Later that year, the ongoing protests, which started out mildly, triggered members of SARS to respond with lethal force and eventually culminated to deaths at the Lekki Toll Gate in Lagos.

On the wide spectrum, while many Nigerians pointed out that the song might have been recorded in an unrelated cause, a multiple fans agree that it played an unforgettable part in the history of one of Nigeria's biggest protests in recent time. In addition to his voice being associated with the political outcry, Davido also joined protesters to denounce the effects of SARS on the lives of Nigerian youth in multiple vivd photos shared online at the time. Below are some of the reactions that some Twitter users had to the recent development.

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