After Egypt, Senegal, and Tunisia saw governments overthrown, hip-hop artists played a role in mass protests that broke out in Burkina Faso and the Democratic Republic of the Congo (DRC). In 2014 in Burkina Faso rapper Smockey was among the artists leading the grassroots group Le Balai Citoyen (citizen’s broom), which led mass protests all over the capital, Ouagadougou. Balai Citoyen was a group of activists fighting the rule of President Blaise Compaoré, who had ruled Burkina Faso since the assassination of President Thomas Sankara, in 1987. Activists from both Balai Citoyen and Y’en a Marre (fed up) (Senegal) were arrested in the DRC in March 2015. They were invited by the Congolese group Filimbi but were seen as a threat by the Congolese government, perhaps because of their success in removing the presidents in their own countries.
Note that increases in social mobilization are not limited to Africa. The implementation of the same neoliberal economic policies has also caused protests in the United States, Greece, France, Bahrain, India, Columbia, Mexico, and other countries. Black Lives Matter, the Occupy movement, Anonymous, and the Arab Spring were reactions to these same global economic policies that are having disastrous impacts on the world’s poor. Urbanization, land rights, workers’ rights, police violence, education, healthcare, environmental rights, economic rights, and political representation are all subjects of protests in countries throughout the world.
No every country has seen the same level of response to neoliberalism. The social and political environment has differed across Africa. This has also influenced the evolution of hip-hop culture in Africa, which was shaped by numerous factors. To understand some of these major differences, we can examine a selection of Africa’s largest and most-written-about hip-hop communities: Ghana, Senegal, South Africa, and Tanzania. Through them we can see the diversity of experiences in Africa represented through hip-hop. The realities constructed and the manner in which they were presented, however, varied. Hiphop had arrived in Ghana, Senegal, South Africa, and Tanzania by the 1980s. This period saw the height of SAPs in Senegal and Tanzania; the rule of Jerry Rawlings, who came to power via a coup in Ghana; and increased pressures against apartheid rule in South Africa.
Politicization
Diverse arrivals and histories influenced the politicization of hip-hop in these countries. In Senegal, hip-hop was more confrontational than it was in either Ghana or Tanzania, for example. In apartheid South Africa censorship was a reality for hip-hop artists and activists who were aware of the death, disappearances, and forced exiles of other activists.
Through interviews with individuals within Ghanaian music circles, some believe the censorship experienced after the Rawlings coup, and during the Rawlings years, had lasting impacts on Ghanaian music, influencing self-censorship by many artists. Jesse Shipley (2013) argues that there is social and political content in Ghanaian music, but he provides another explanation for the impression that it is absent. Shipley says that the style of commentary in Ghanaian music is tied to the popularity of using proverbs in Ghanaian culture—the preferred, and less direct, method of social commentary.
Senegal, according to many scholars, activists, and musicians, has one of the largest hip-hop communities in the world, with three to five thousand in the city of Dakar alone (Künzler 2007; Herson, McIlvaine, and Moore 2009). In speaking to several Senegalese musicians and activists, many noted a tradition of direct criticism within Senegalese culture. In comparison to Ghana’s preference for proverbs, in Senegalese culture there is often open and direct criticism of politics, and that has spilled over into hip-hop music.
While hip-hop came to Ghana in the wake of the Rawlings coup, it came to Senegal in the midst of a border conflict between Senegal and Mauritania, an economic crisis, and thousands of West Africans fleeing the continent in poorly constructed boats headed for Europe (Diouf, n.d.; ECA 1989; Okome 2002; Bailey 2006; Sy 2006; Charry 2012). One casualty of the economic crisis in Senegal was the closure of schools because of strikes. This event is often cited as a factor in the solidification and politicization of Senegalese hip-hop (Herson 2011). During a 2009 interview, Senegalese hip-hop veteran Keyti called the incident critical to politicizing Senegalese hip-hop.
In separate interviews longtime hip-hop artists Keyti and Xuman also said Senegalese cultural and religious traditions (Islam) have influenced the social and political content in the hip-hop music. According to both Keyti and Xuman, because of these cultural and religious traditions, in Senegalese hip-hop one does not find artists objectifying women, writings songs about alcohol or drugs, or crossing cultural taboos. Even music that is not overtly political, maintains a certain level of social responsibility. Xuman and Waterflow (Moussa Lo) both stated that artists that use explicit lyrics or content would risk losing their fan base and credibility.
Like in Senegal, in South Africa hip-hop became politicized early on, due in large part to both growing militancy in the antiapartheid struggles and the heavily political music of groups like Public Enemy, which influenced early hip-hop artists (Ariefdien and Burgess 2011; Ariefdien and Chapman 2014). For artists like Shaheen Ariefdien (fig. 2.1) of Prophets of da City, political hip-hop not only challenged apartheid but would later challenge neocolonialism or Western intrusion in Africa as well (Haupt 2008). The influence of these early socially conscious hip-hop artists profoundly impacted newer generations of hip-hop artists in South Africa. This has been reinforced by the presence of workshops, events, independent radio stations, and activists invested in supporting socially conscious hip-hop in South Africa (Haupt 2008; L. Watkins 2012). Hip-hop in today’s South Africa, however, is challenged by the influence of gangster rap and commercialization, in some cases pushing socially conscious hip-hop out of the mainstream (L. Watkins 2012).
Figure 2.1. Shaheen Ariefdien in Toronto in 2011. Photo by author.
Tanzanian hip-hop has not been as confrontational as Senegalese. The country also did not undergo the censorship felt in South Africa. In Tanzania the use of an indigenous language, Swahili/Kiswahili, has meant hip-hop played a role in the politics of language in that country. The vast majority of Tanzanian hip-hop is sung in Swahili/Kiswahili, a language central to the Tanzanian identity. Swahili/Kiswahili poetry and sayings are a valued part of the way Tanzanians communicate. According to Lemelle, in Tanzania “many of the signature aspects of rap music, including wordplay, risqué, or suggestive puns and lyrical rhyme, are deeply inscribed in Swahili culture, in the form of Swahili parables, proverbs, and allegory called methali” (2006, 238). Manipulating Swahili language styles, Tanzanian hip-hop pioneers like De-Plow-Matz, Professor Jay, and Sugu (aka 2 Proud, Mr. II) helped hip-hop’s politicization in Tanzania.
Following a slump in socially conscious hip-hop in the mid-2000s, there has been a noticeable increase in confrontation in Tanzanian hip-hop. In 2011, Tanzanian artist Izzo Bizness released the song “Riz One,” directed at the son of then president Jakaya Kikwete, Ridhiwani (aka Riz One). The song implores Riz One to tell his father to do something about the current living conditions in Tanzania. The song was shocking to some because it calls out Riz One by name. It was one of the few Tanzanian hip-hop songs to directly name a political figure, instead of insinuating and leaving it to the audience to understand whom the artist is talking about.
This compares to Senegal, when during the 2011 and 2012 uprisings against then president Abdoulaye Wade, a number of scathing hip-hop songs were released. Marame Gueye (2013) details the social activism seen by hip-hop artists, both on the ground and through their music. Senegalese artists like Kilifeu of the duo Keur Gui and Simon of Sen Kumpë released the song “Faux! Pas Forcé” (Don’t push) in 2011, directed at then president Abdoulaye