Students from the first cohort of the DAC-MOA project discuss their research objects in class. Photo by Paul H. Joseph/UBC Brand & Marketing.
UBC’s Museum of Anthropology (MOA) boasts over 5,000 objects from Africa. However, many of these objects arrived at MOA without historical and cultural context, resulting in inaccurate and incomplete descriptions in the museum’s displays and online catalogue.
Beginning in 2019, a group of UBC students had the opportunity to change that. The Decolonizing the African Collections and Displays at MOA (DAC-MOA) project was formed by Arts student Njamba Koffi (Africa Awareness Initiative), Savannah Sutherland (Black Students Union), Adam Rudder (Hogan’s Alley Society), UBC History professor Dr. David Morton, and MOA curator Nuno Porto and funded by the UBC Program for Undergraduate Research Experience.
The two-year project employed and trained 32 students with a background in African Studies to research and update the descriptions of approximately 1,000 objects. The students researched where these objects originated from, what languages were used to describe them, their cultural importance, and present-day contexts.
We spoke with three Arts participants to learn about the objects they researched and the discoveries they made, the importance of connecting with local knowledge holders, and the many lessons they are taking away from this impactful project.
Lorena Edah
Fourth-year, Economics major and African Studies minor
Can you tell us about an object you chose to research?
I chose to research the mortar and pestle, which in West Africa is often labeled the heart of the kitchen and is generally depicted in images of women pounding food as a reflection of African daily life. Commonly used by both men and women, the mortar and pestle serves a utilitarian function of a food processor/blender/spice grinder, as well as a symbolic role.
Pestle, maker unrecorded (West African). MOA Collection: Af501. Photo by Kyla Bailey, courtesy of the Museum of Anthropology at UBC.
In West African kitchens, the thumping sound when the pestle meets the mortar announces the beginning of cooking. The pounding follows a rhythmic sound and usually accompanies a song. Depending on the occasion—funerals, weddings, birth, or just a lullaby for rocking the baby who is securely wrapped to the back of the woman who is pounding along—the song can vary. West Africa’s current food and food production is inextricably linked with its history, particularly with trade and movement.
Why was it important to connect with local knowledge holders?
I was fortunate to connect with Paa-Ani Sanda-Nabede, a museum historian based at the Museum of Lomé in Togo who provided me with information on what the objects I was looking at were, how they were made, and their historical, economic, social, and political context. The museum worker also provided local Ewe and Kabiyè names for the objects via audio. I thought this was really cool given that oftentimes in a colonial institution such as museums, objects take on English labels and names, which takes away from the object’s meaning. Re-identifying potential local names contributes to the decolonizing process by attempting to attribute some meaning that was lost in translation. It also allows individuals from that particular region of the world to better identify with their culture upon viewing the object label. If I solely relied on academic sources and Google searches, I would have missed out on this important knowledge.
As part of this project, students learned historical and ethnographic research methods and participated in rewriting object descriptions for MOA. Photo by Paul H. Joseph/UBC Brand & Marketing.
What impact do you hope this work has on museum goers who engage with the African collection at MOA?
The existing catalog descriptions are often devoid of proper historical and cultural context, oftentimes even incomplete or inaccurate, reflecting the colonial biases inherent to North American museum institutions. I hope my work contributed in some way to debunking these false or incomplete narratives. I hope I provided a means for museum goers to better identify with the objects if connected to them in any way, or at least encounter one accurate depiction of what the objects could possibly represent. More importantly, I like to think of my research as the beginning of a conversation as it is important to acknowledge that cultures and traditions are dynamic and not fixed.
Rawie Elnur
BA’ 22, Political Science major and Economics minor
Can you tell us about an object you chose to research?
I chose to research the raised arms figures I came across, known as ‘dédégue’ in its original language. The raised arms gesture is closely linked to one performed in Dogon rituals, in which sacrifices are presented on Andugo altars to elicit rain from the water spirit, Nommo. The gesture, however, is not unique to Andugo altars only; the raised arms can be found in altars dedicated to a family’s ancestors, the Binu and Lebe. One of the most important Dogon rituals—the bulu ceremony—takes place at the beginning of the planting season every year.
Figure, maker unrecorded (Dogon). MOA Collection: K2.10. Photo by Jessica Bushey, courtesy of the Museum of Anthropology at UBC.
In the ceremony, the same gesture has been captured in the motion of Hogons and Binu priests who climb to sanctuary roofs and throw down grain at the sacred fields, with arms raised and outstretched. The raised arms gesture is potentially symbolic to more than just a rain prayer as it may also be a prayer for a good harvest year.
What were some personal highlights from working on this project?
In the early stages of my research, I was looking for similar-looking Dogon objects in the Musée du Quai Branly catalogue. I was relieved by the number of items I found that could aid my investigation, but I soon realized how extensive the list was. For Dogon peoples, the work of their ancestors and the religious and cultural significance of these objects were simply stolen from them to be displayed in museums. Like caged birds, these items await a return to their homelands. Lingering in my mind was Kate Ezra’s statement that “Dogon art is created primarily for religious purposes, to be placed in shrines or to be used in rituals”. The purpose of Dogon art and the ease at which these objects were stolen and commodified was and continues to be an extremely disturbing thought. This was a crucial moment which pushed me to explore the significance of repatriation claims within museology.
“It is a process of undoing that has the power to illuminate local knowledge and perspectives of African collections which have long been neglected, exotified, or misinterpreted by colonial and neo-colonial literature.”
What impact do you hope this work has on museum goers who engage with the African collection at MOA?
At the root of DAC-MOA’s initiative, I realized the potential for reclaiming narratives of identities shaped by colonial powers. It is a process of undoing that has the power to illuminate local knowledge and perspectives of African collections which have long been neglected, exotified, or misinterpreted by colonial and neo-colonial literature.
I hope that this work serves as a reminder to the continuity of colonialism beyond the waves of African independence in the twentieth century. Being mindful of historical change is crucial to understanding how objects at museums served various purposes and meanings to ethnic groups over time. Our descriptions of African collections aimed to connect museum goers to the past whilst guiding them into a summary of the present, and the types of issues ethnic groups may be facing today. This is crucial because one of our main tasks was to utilize the ethnographic dimensions present when discussing the art and works of the groups we explored. This should be a key takeaway to museum goers as well, as many assume that museum collections belonged to a people of the past which no longer reside today.
Marie-Reine Mukazayire
BA’21, International Relations
Can you tell us about an object you chose to research?
I wanted to highlight the diversity of conceptualizations of gender in West Africa. Through masks like the Ci-Wara, I learned that gender in countries like Mali was not divided across the same type of binary structure as it is in westernized North American contexts, for example.
Headdress, maker unrecorded (Bamana). MOA Collection: K2.233. Photo by Derek Tan, courtesy of the Museum of Anthropology at UBC.
Rather, gender is understood through a fluid and complementary relationship. Furthermore, I wanted to highlight the relationship that countries like Mali and Côte d’Ivoire have with death. For example, through the Kanaga mask, I learned that in order to ensure the passage of spirits to the ancestral world, many Malians, especially the Dogon in the Sangha region, hold a ritual called “Dama” in which the souls of the deceased are transported away from their homes.
What led you to apply to be a part of this project?
Throughout the last couple years, my education has been heavily anglicized and I realized that studying and conducting research in a certain language comes with certain biases. As a result, I felt that I was missing out on learning about the histories of my areas of interest. The DAC-MOA research position was one way to remedy this since my research centered around objects in Francophone West Africa. Furthermore, it seemed like Francophone West Africa was rarely discussed at UBC. I wanted to contribute to building a space through which people could learn more about the region.
“This experience equipped me with research skills that I am now applying in my grad school program. I learned to think outside of the box when conducting research on subjects that are not necessarily popular in academia.”
What have you learned about yourself, your culture, or the history of the African diaspora through your involvement in this project?
I am not West African but I have been living in the region for the last four years part-time and it is an area I am interested in career-wise. This experience helped me learn about different cultures and the ways they are not limited by man-made borders. Through the different objects, I learned about aspects of history and culture I otherwise would not have necessarily had access to as an East and Central African. Furthermore, this experience equipped me with research skills that I am now applying in my grad school program. I learned to think outside of the box when conducting research on subjects that are not necessarily popular in academia.
