In ricordo di Ken Saro Wiwa

"Quando sai quali sono i tuoi diritti sai come difenderli”. Con queste parole Maria Wiwa ha concluso la commemorazione londinese per il decennale dalla morte di suo marito, il poeta nigeriano Ken Saro Wiwa. Un evento molto toccante, cui hanno partecipato numerosi artisti ed attivisti per i diritti umani e per la tutela dell’ambiente, sia inglesi che nigeriani, riuniti sotto il cappello della rete Remember Ken Saro Wiwa. Oltre ai ricordi, alle poesie e alle canzoni che si sono alternati durante la celebrazione, c’è stato anche l’annuncio della creazione di un living memorial per Saro Wiwa, che consisterà in una statua e in un’opera multimediale.

I must have dozed off because when I opened my eyes, "Progress" had screeched to a stop. We were in the Dukana town square, an opening in the middle of the town where the motorable road abruptly stopped. On all sides of the opening were mud houses, of a square construction covered by raffia palms. Now and again, in the confusion of houses was the odd mud house covered with rusty corrugated iron sheets and, much more rarely, a brick house, unplastered and unpainted, its windows boarded with planks or old newspapers turned dull yellow. For you must understand that building a brick building in Dukana is the task of a life-time. When its proud owner finds some loose change he buys a bag of cement, makes bricks and adds them to the existing structure. In this slow, laborious way, the blockwork might be completed over five or ten years. Then a bundle of corrugated iron sheets is added each year until the entire structure is roofed. The doors and windows might come later or not at all, for after all, is not a house the roof over your head to keep out rain and sun? Once there is a roof, and there are walls, the owner moves in. This might be ten years or more after the commencement of construction. Time does not matter in Dukana. ["Home, Sweet Home," A Forest of Flowers, 5]

SEGNALO per approfondimenti: http://www.remembersarowiwa.com/