Men of the Ogele!
a photographic series by Zinadu Saro-Wiwa, 2014.

While getting her pop-up gallery in Port Harcourt up and running, Zina Saro-Wiwa has been focusing also on her own work which is to be shown at the Seattle Museum.  She first set out to photographs  the Ogele dancers who perform in  local masquerades. These men have never been photographed before. They usually shield their faces. Though they were hard to track at first  Zina became familiar with the dancers and was able to photograph them unmasked  thereby creating  a unique body of work.

Ogoniland, located in Nigeria’s Niger Delta region, like many parts of West Africa, has it own masquerading culture. Most masquerades were created far in the past before anyone can remember when or how they emerged. Traditionally tied to farming cycles, a masked performer would perform for audiences surrounded by drummers and flautists at specific times of the year like yam harvest or New Year. Masquerades existed and still exist to augur good luck for planting seasons, for entertainment and also as a form of social control. But in the 1980s and 1990s a new form of masquerade emerged in Ogoniland. Inspired by the political situation in Ogoni and the Niger Delta, a growing Ogoni consciousness spawned a masquerade called “Gbaaloo” which means “United” in Ogoni language. But the phenomenon is nicknamed “Ogele”.

Ogele groups were formed by young men and these masquerades featured large, tall, very heavy masks made of wood that were often painted with car paint that are markedly distinct from the face masks of previous generations. These tiered masks tell stories that reflect the political and sometimes psychological situation of the time they were created. The mystical permeates Ogele as the young men have a practise of disappearing into the forests for up to three years to “dream” the design of the masquerades masks and the accompanying songs and dances.

Ogele groups are comprised of at least six men. There is the dancer who dresses in a colourful oversized bodysuit made from found materials and scraps as well as the heavy mask and then there are the musicians. As a group they move around villages of Ogoni or are hired for special occasions and political rallies. ( Zina Saro-Wiva)

In this particular image the wooden figure with the arms outstretched represents Osama Bin Laden when he was at large.  The dancers used him as a warning against bad behavior;  sort of like a bogeyman figure to scare people into NOT behaving badly.

Though these men move in a group, Saro-Wiwa’s images focus on individual members, deconstructing the masquerade phenomenon both physically and emotionally. These secretive and tough men are now shown on a more human scale: vulnerable and playful.

This picture is very special to Zina. It was taking at the place her father’s remains were buried and it is like a shrine to many people.

[Saro-Wiwa’s] images upend the usual presentation of African masquerade and gently dismantle the notion of ‘African tradition’. They suggest an emotional and living relationship between the mask, the mask wearer and the performance, breathing humanity into the interrogation of such African cultures. The unmasking of these secret societies gives us a rare glimpse into the hearts of minds of Ogoni men and challenge the highly politicised reading of Ogoni and Niger Delta life. (Zina Saro-Wiwa).

I don’t know how she got them to unmask ! I asked her and am still waiting for the answer. This photographic series is only the first half of her project. She now has in mind to take the project forward and include women in her video.   This is creating quite a stir among the local women who feel men have been too long at the forefront of this cultural tradition.

We got to talk about masks or headdresses and how the contemporary versions don’t get quite the attention  “old ” masquerading masks have gotten historically by collectors. I reminded her of a wonderful exhibition at the Boston Museum of Fine Arts which showed Genevieve McMillan’s collection of African and Oceanic art much of it produced in the 20th century.

Zina is shaking things up in Port Harcourt ! I think we agree that men have too long resorted to violent means and we need alternative ways of creating change. Africa has not yet given proper voice to the millions of African women who toil everyday. I grab any opportunity I have to give voice and to make the world know of the quiet and at times not so quiet ways these women make a difference.