Il solitario lavoro di guardiano di notte è proprio quello che fa Geedi, quando riesce trovarlo. La solitudine dei migranti è correlativa alla separazione dalla famiglia, e al senso di risentimento di chi resta e si sente abbandonato da chi parte.[12] La seconda canzone composta da Geedi, che registrammo qualche tempo dopo, una dialogo fra l’emigrato e la moglie rimasta a casa, parla precisamente di questo.

Impronte digitali, frammenti significanti di essere umano. In un racconto di Cristiana Caldas Brito, scrittrice brasiliana che vive in Italia e scrive in italiano, si immagina che “cinquemila quattrocento ventidue polpastrelli, tutti imbrattati di inchiostro” si presentano un giorno alla Questura di Roma: “siamo entrati in questura in modo assolutamente pacifico e in ordinata fila, come si usa dalle nostre parti. Se proprio devo dire la verità, erano loro, i poliziotti, ad essere nervosi.... (continua)

Artisti Vari - We are not going back (Nota, 2016)

In un articolo del novembre 2009 sulla rivista Internazionale, la scrittrice italo-somala Cristina Ali Farah parlava di Geedi, un giovane migrante somalo, allievo della scuola di italiano per stranieri Asinitas, che aveva scritto una canzone intitolata “Istaranyieri baan ahai”, sono straniero. Da tempo, nel Circolo Gianni Bosio (un’organizzazione romana indipendente di ricerca sulle culture popolari, la musica popolare, la storia orale) ci stavamo chiedendo se la musica dei migranti che ascoltavamo nelle strade, nei tram, nelle metropolitane di Roma, non fosse davvero la nuova musica popolare della città multietnica e multiculturale. La notizia su Geedi, insieme ad altri incontri avvenuti in quei giorni, ci convinse che si poteva fare. L’incontro con lui qualche tempo dopo grazie a Cristina Ali Farah fu l’inizio di un progetto che va avanti... (continua)

Somali exiles use music to slam war

NAIROBI: Upon entering a tiny recording studio in a grimy Nairobi building, Felis removes her face veil, slides headphones onto her ears and starts singing in a high voice: “Girls are raped. Warlords are to blame”.

Over a soundtrack of world music and rap, Felis Abdi and the group Waayaha Cusub, made up of some 20 young Somali refugees, crudely slam the war that has torn up their country for 16 years, almost all their lives.

“All the people have been killed. Let us repair the country. There is no school, there is no peace,” sings Waayaha Cusub, which means “New Era” in Somali.

“People listen to you more when you sing than when you speak,” says Abdiwali Ibrahim Garyare, one of the group’s singers, who has lived in Kenya for 17 years.

“We can make a difference because the young generation listens to us,” adds 17-year-old Felis, who has a gap between... (continua)

Somali exiles use music to slam war

NAIROBI: Upon entering a tiny recording studio in a grimy Nairobi building, Felis removes her face veil, slides headphones onto her ears and starts singing in a high voice: “Girls are raped. Warlords are to blame”.

Over a soundtrack of world music and rap, Felis Abdi and the group Waayaha Cusub, made up of some 20 young Somali refugees, crudely slam the war that has torn up their country for 16 years, almost all their lives.

“All the people have been killed. Let us repair the country. There is no school, there is no peace,” sings Waayaha Cusub, which means “New Era” in Somali.

“People listen to you more when you sing than when you speak,” says Abdiwali Ibrahim Garyare, one of the group’s singers, who has lived in Kenya for 17 years.

“We can make a difference because the young generation listens to us,” adds 17-year-old Felis, who has a gap between... (continua)

Somali exiles use music to slam war

NAIROBI: Upon entering a tiny recording studio in a grimy Nairobi building, Felis removes her face veil, slides headphones onto her ears and starts singing in a high voice: “Girls are raped. Warlords are to blame”.

Over a soundtrack of world music and rap, Felis Abdi and the group Waayaha Cusub, made up of some 20 young Somali refugees, crudely slam the war that has torn up their country for 16 years, almost all their lives.

“All the people have been killed. Let us repair the country. There is no school, there is no peace,” sings Waayaha Cusub, which means “New Era” in Somali.

“People listen to you more when you sing than when you speak,” says Abdiwali Ibrahim Garyare, one of the group’s singers, who has lived in Kenya for 17 years.

“We can make a difference because the young generation listens to us,” adds 17-year-old Felis, who has a gap between... (continua)

Somali exiles use music to slam war

NAIROBI: Upon entering a tiny recording studio in a grimy Nairobi building, Felis removes her face veil, slides headphones onto her ears and starts singing in a high voice: “Girls are raped. Warlords are to blame”.

Over a soundtrack of world music and rap, Felis Abdi and the group Waayaha Cusub, made up of some 20 young Somali refugees, crudely slam the war that has torn up their country for 16 years, almost all their lives.

“All the people have been killed. Let us repair the country. There is no school, there is no peace,” sings Waayaha Cusub, which means “New Era” in Somali.

“People listen to you more when you sing than when you speak,” says Abdiwali Ibrahim Garyare, one of the group’s singers, who has lived in Kenya for 17 years.

“We can make a difference because the young generation listens to us,” adds 17-year-old Felis, who has a gap between... (continua)