The excellent award-winning documentary We are Together (Thina Simunye) tells the story of the Agape Orphanage in South Africa. Eschewing sentimentality, it shows the children of the orphanage as they work out ways to raise funds to expand, as well as the terrible impact of HIV upon the community. And it encapsulates some of the key problems regarding the west's perception of the problems faced by Africa.
Tragically, the orphanage is destroyed in a fire. But all is not lost. Following a fund-raising trip to New York, under the patronage of Alicia Keys' Keep a Child Alive charity, they begin to raise enough money to build an expanded orphanage, one which will be able to house more children.
They do this primarily through the power of song. All of the children seem to be blessed with quite extraordinary voices, a point that was marvelled over by the audience at a Q & A following the film's screening at the Jerusalem Film Festival. This seemingly remarkable coincidence is explained by Zwai Bala, a South African pop star:
"Music, it plays a very big part in the culture of this country. We South Africans, sing before we sleep, sing before we eat. We sing when we are happy, we sing when we are celebrating, we sing when we are sad, all the time, we sing when we are travelling, we sing whenever we can."
It's almost as if the children are taught to sing before they can even talk. Somehow, though, the constant chorus left a sour taste in my mouth. What would have happened, I wondered, had the children not been able to sing? They presumably wouldn't have been able to perform onstage with Alica Keys and Paul Simon. They wouldn't have been able to sell CDs to raise money for the orphanage. And their talent wouldn't have wowed audiences coming to see the film.
Without song, the true horror of their situation would have been laid bare. Orphans because of devastation caused by Aids, seemingly abandoned by the government, surviving because a few devoted individuals managed to build an orphanage from scratch. But we focus on their voices.
And, of course, it's impossible to refer to these issues without touching on racial politics. Bala goes on to say:
"It [singing] plays a very big role to us. It's a healing thing and not having had bands, especially in communities such as these and where I grew up as well, in the Eastern Cape, where, you know, you don't have bands, not everyone has music or stereos in their homes, so if it calls for entertainment or it calls for something to be done by everybody, singing is the one thing that everyone can do at once. We can't all speak at once but we can all sing at once."
As a cultural explanation for the importance of song in South African society, it's an important one. But when that phenomenon is placed before predominantly white audiences around the world, it takes on a distinctly unpleasant hue. The legacy of the minstrel show still lives on in contemporary society, as Little Brother's recent hip-hop satire demonstrates, and great care has to be taken to ensure that black people do not have to literally sing for their supper before wealthier whites.
I found Bala's words deeply inspiring, an authentic testament to the power of culture. But I still fail to see why the children of the film should be required to perform in order that their orphanage will survive. While people are dazzled by their voices, there is a danger they will miss the awful and unromantic reality of the problems faced by South Africa, which does not bode well for the millions of orphans who are not blessed with the voice of an angel.
They do this primarily through the power of song. All of the children seem to be blessed with quite extraordinary voices, a point that was marvelled over by the audience at a Q & A following the film's screening at the Jerusalem Film Festival. This seemingly remarkable coincidence is explained by Zwai Bala, a South African pop star: "Music, it plays a very big part in the culture of this country. We South Africans, sing before we sleep, sing before we eat. We sing when we are happy, we sing when we are celebrating, we sing when we are sad, all the time, we sing when we are travelling, we sing whenever we can."
It's almost as if the children are taught to sing before they can even talk. Somehow, though, the constant chorus left a sour taste in my mouth. What would have happened, I wondered, had the children not been able to sing? They presumably wouldn't have been able to perform onstage with Alica Keys and Paul Simon. They wouldn't have been able to sell CDs to raise money for the orphanage. And their talent wouldn't have wowed audiences coming to see the film.
Without song, the true horror of their situation would have been laid bare. Orphans because of devastation caused by AIDS, seemingly abandoned by the government, surviving because a few devoted individuals managed to build an orphanage from scratch. But we focus on their voices.
And, of course, it's impossible to refer to these issues without touching on racial politics. Bala goes on to say that "It [singing] plays a very big role to us. It's a healing thing and not having had bands, especially in communities such as these and where I grew up as well, in the Eastern Cape, where, you know, you don't have bands, not everyone has music or stereos in their homes, so if it calls for entertainment or it calls for something to be done by everybody, singing is the one thing that everyone can do at once. We can't all speak at once but we can all sing at once."
As a cultural explanation for the importance of song in South African society, it's an important one. But when that phenomenon is placed before predominantly white audiences around the world, it takes on a distinctly unpleasant hue. The legacy of the minstrel show still lives on in contemporary society, as Little Brother's recent hip-hop satire demonstrates, and great care has to be taken to ensure that black people do not have to literally sing for their supper before wealthier whites.
I found Bala's words deeply inspiring, an authentic testament to the power of culture. But I still fail to see why the children of the film should be required to perform in order that their orphanage will survive. While people are dazzled by their voices, there is a danger they will miss the awful and unromantic reality of the problems faced by South Africa, which does not bode well for the millions of orphans who are not blessed with the voice of an angel.
