Faced with the invitation to collaborate with the Ethnographic Museum at the University of Zurich exhibition Benin Dues. Dealing with Looted Royal Treasures, we, members of the African students Association, realised that we have to work with what we have, instead of what we don’t have. As young members of the African diaspora, what we have is an emotional and conflicted sense of belonging. What we often don’t have, is an understanding of these artefacts or of our own cultural heritage. The same could be said concerning the Benin Bronzes: their status in Europe is unsure, uncleared, and the knowledge surrounding them, as well as the objects themselves, is held by a foreign entity. We would like our contribution to this Exhibition to convey that these artefacts share a certain communality with us as members of the diaspora. For us, talking about these artefacts, their history, the violence surrounding them, restitution and the effects of colonialism/ coloniality shares much of the topics surrounding our belonging as young Africans in Europe. We would like to use the platform given by the artefacts and the exhibition to convey this to the visitors and to challenge them to find answers for themselves – just because the artefacts will return, does not mean that the problems they and we share will also disappear.
To do this, we have developed 4 questions that are conceived so as to communicate not only with members of the ASAZ (representative for members of the diaspora), but also the visitors of the museum, the museum itself as an institution and with the artefacts. The questions correspond to the thematic sections of the exhibition, and due to their size and placing, remain as a visible marker throughout; always being in either direct line of sight or in peripheral view. Much like African bodies of the diaspora, as well as the artefacts themselves, the questions are embedded and in relation with their context, demanding from it its participation and asserting themselves – firmly claiming space but remaining open for rapprochement.
The questions are mounted over the raw, un-curated contents of a workshop led in June 2024, wherein these questions were discussed. The difference in scale between question and ‚answer‘ (the transcript of the workshop) implores a performative step of engagement: to read the fülle and richness behind a question, you must approach our wall, but in doing so, the totality becomes obscured. Such is the reality of our belonging, and our contribution aims to convey this formally. Rather than offering digestible answers and providing an easy approach to the discussion of race and belonging, our contribution aims to allow the depth of this topic to claim space, allowing the medium itself to span a dialectic between ‚black‘ subject(ivity) and ‚black‘ object(ivity). By continuously provoking visitor, artefact, the museum as an institution and members of the diaspora, our contribution aims to prompt a cyclic requestioning of presence and belonging, its layered approach ensuring a contrapuntal dialogue that echoes throughout the exhibition and beyond.
The present ‚Guestbook‘ aims to function as yet another layer to this discussion, allowing for the discourse to be continued with you, the visitor. Acting as part guestbook, part living archive and part message board, its goal is to, on the one hand, make accessible texts that were instrumental in the developing of our contribution, and on the other hand allow for reflections upon the green questions to be shared. Flipping the logic of the Exhibition contribution, the questions now form the first layer, and your contribution the one on top.
The colour green comes from the colour of the gloves used by the museum whilst handling the objects. For us, the almost unpleasant and disagreeable contrast it creates fulfilled precisely a selection of effects we felt were desirable: not only does it pull the attention of the visitor and distinctly differentiate our position from that of the museum, it also evokes a certain sense of awkwardness. We felt that this awkwardness conveys a feeling comparable to that of the racialized view always expanded towards us, and a certain awkwardness awarded to the artefacts. We aim to claim this, turn it around and use it to our advantage.
This installation is shown at the exhibition Benin Dues
at the Ethnographic Museum – University of Zurich
Faced with the invitation to collaborate with the Völkerkundemuseum Zürich‘s Exhibition on the looted Benin Bronzes, we, members of the African students Association, realised that we have to work with what we have, instead of what we don’t have. As young members of the African diaspora, what we have is an emotional and conflicted sense of belonging. What we often don’t have, is an understanding of these artefacts or of our own cultural heritage. The same could be said concerning the Benin Bronzes: their status in Europe is unsure, uncleared, and the knowledge surrounding them, as well as the objects themselves, is held by a foreign entity. We would like our contribution to this Exhibition to convey that these artefacts share a certain communality with us as members of the diaspora. For us, talking about these artefacts, their history, the violence surrounding them, restitution and the effects of colonialism/ coloniality shares much of the topics surrounding our belonging as young Africans in Europe. We would like to use the platform given by the artefacts and the exhibition to convey this to the visitors and to challenge them to find answers for themselves – just because the artefacts will return, does not mean that the problems they and we share will also disappear.
To do this, we have developed 4 questions that are conceived so as to communicate not only with members of the ASAZ (representative for members of the diaspora), but also the visitors of the museum, the museum itself as an institution and with the artefacts. The questions correspond to the thematic sections of the exhibition, and due to their size and placing, remain as a visible marker throughout; always being in either direct line of sight or in peripheral view. Much like African bodies of the diaspora, as well as the artefacts themselves, the questions are embedded and in relation with their context, demanding from it its participation and asserting themselves – firmly claiming space but remaining open for rapprochement.
The questions are mounted over the raw, un-curated contents of a workshop led in June 2024, wherein these questions were discussed. The difference in scale between question and ‚answer‘ (the transcript of the workshop) implores a performative step of engagement: to read the fülle and richness behind a question, you must approach our wall, but in doing so, the totality becomes obscured. Such is the reality of our belonging, and our contribution aims to convey this formally. Rather than offering digestible answers and providing an easy approach to the discussion of race and belonging, our contribution aims to allow the depth of this topic to claim space, allowing the medium itself to span a dialectic between ‚black‘ subject(ivity) and ‚black‘ object(ivity). By continuously provoking visitor, artefact, the museum as an institution and members of the diaspora, our contribution aims to prompt a cyclic requestioning of presence and belonging, its layered approach ensuring a contrapuntal dialogue that echoes throughout the exhibition and beyond.
The present ‚Guestbook‘ aims to function as yet another layer to this discussion, allowing for the discourse to be continued with you, the visitor. Acting as part guestbook, part living archive and part message board, its goal is to, on the one hand, make accessible texts that were instrumental in the developing of our contribution, and on the other hand allow for reflections upon the green questions to be shared. Flipping the logic of the Exhibition contribution, the questions now form the first layer, and your contribution the one on top.
The colour green comes from the colour of the gloves used by the museum whilst handling the objects. For us, the almost unpleasant and disagreeable contrast it creates fulfilled precisely a selection of effects we felt were desirable: not only does it pull the attention of the visitor and distinctly differentiate our position from that of the museum, it also evokes a certain sense of awkwardness. We felt that this awkwardness conveys a feeling comparable to that of the racialized view always expanded towards us, and a certain awkwardness awarded to the artefacts. We aim to claim this, turn it around and use it to our advantage.
In response to multiple visitor requests for access to the full transcript of the workshop, we propose a different approach: acoustic fragments. Providing the full 50-page transcript of the workshop would not only be impractical and likely go unread but would also undermine its performative and experiential essence. Rather than offering a fixed, exhaustive document, we acknowledge that the interpretation of our input is deeply tied to our lived experience, shaped by evolving perspectives on race, identity, and belonging. The full transcript risks flattening, misrepresenting or oversimplifying these complexities, reducing rich, dynamic discussions to static words rather than ongoing, fluid dialogue.
Our intention is not to make these conversations digestible but rather accessible—offering an entry point that invites reflection, curiosity, and engagement with the layers of meaning beyond words alone. Unlike a written record, sound carries nuances and encourages a more immersive encounter. Rather than passively reading, visitors are prompted to pause, listen, and reflect. The act of listening becomes part of the experience, aligning with the fragmentary nature of the text and the themes of presence and belonging at the core of our contribution.
Each listener can choose to engage in their own way—whether by keeping their eyes open, absorbing the surrounding space, or closing them to focus purely on the voices, tones, and silences. These fragments embrace incompleteness. Each stands alone while simultaneously gesturing toward a larger whole—one that remains elusive, shifting with each listener’s perception.
It is not what is spoken that speaks, but what is heard. It is not the sound that matters, but the echo within us!