Afifa Aza: There’s More to Life Than Just Getting By

“People are leaving here, because it’s not livable. I want to make it livable.”

I often see Afifa Aza in our favorite café in Kingston, perched at a table with headphones on her ears. She has a self-deprecating smile and tufty hair. She is an artist – an artist who is also an activist. She wants to “guide ideas,” to help them grow. And to help Jamaica grow into a living, breathing, vibrant, inclusive society – so that people will not want to leave. She doesn’t want them to leave (and nor do I). So, we sat down and talked, recently, in our favorite café.

Afifa Aza is “grounded in an African/Rastafarian spirituality.”

Afifa is the co-founder (with feminist Georgia Love, who is an active member of Women’s Media Watch) of two alternative spaces – for art, learning, culture, growth, dialogue. One is SO((U))L HQ, in Stony Hill, just outside Kingston. “It’s one room in Stony Hill,” she says; but it is a productive space. Georgia is the manager, Afifa the creative director. There is music (Afifa used to DJ there). There is conversation, there is art, there is film. There has been an exhibit on “The Garvey Aesthetic” on Marcus Garvey’s birthday, and a contemplation of the life and work of Audré Lorde.  Read more at http://thesoulhq.wordpress.com

Creative reasonings at SO((U))L HQ. (Photo: susumba.com)

Afifa grew up in Spanish Town. She lived in the UK for “about a year,” which is when the concept of an incubator for the arts came to her – something along the lines of Alice Yard in Port of Spain, Trinidad. She has also spent time in New York (“an interesting, creative city”), where a firm called Beautiful Earth has been a supporter. In 2011 she started doing alternative art programs. There is no membership for SO((U))L, she says, but there is a “core group” that supports and participates. Events are free, but people are free to contribute. “We don’t want to restrict people,” says Afifa; she describes the HQ as a “safe, comfortable spot…We did not want to create an élite enclave.”

Afifa has a message for Jamaicans attending a Bob Marley film premiere in Kingston’s Emancipation Park in May, 2012. (Photo: Jamaica Observer)

Social justice is at the core of Afifa’s being. In March 2012, a teenage girl, Vanessa Kirkland, was shot and killed by the police while traveling with a group of friends to a birthday party in Greenwich Town, Kingston. Two months later, Afifa staged a one-woman protest at a high-profile film première in Emancipation Park, Kingston – to remind those in attendance of the injustice that had occurred. That same year she participated in an art project called Murder Mayhem, “intended to deal with national conscience, mourning, grieving rituals and violent death in our country,” after a youth leader, Kavorn Shue was shot dead by the police in the Mountain View Avenue area of Kingston. 2012 was a particularly bad year for police killings. SO((U))L and Sistren Theatre Collective collaborated on “I Spoke a Day Too Late,” using music, art and performance to bring attention to police injustices and art and activism.

Afifa has a strong sense of the importance of cultural and spiritual growth – especially for young Jamaicans. “We must give people alternatives…and find ways to come together as a community,” she notes. Our young people can’t just sit down watching TV all day, can they? With this in mind – and having worked with non-profit organizations in Kingston where she saw the need for herself – she and Georgia Love created another space, Di Institute for Social Leadership on Kingston’s Marescaux Road, which offers more formal learning for disadvantaged children. “Social Leadership means accepting responsibility as individuals for actively creating communities which support the growth and development for all its members,” notes the website (http://leadtochangeja.wordpress.com).

Story time at Di Institute for Social Leadership with reading teacher and writer Adziko Simba.

Di Institute’s after-school program encourages children to think for themselves and to think creatively (something which is not necessarily taught in the formal school system). There’s a strong focus on reading and on the enjoyment of learning, through sports, drama and the use of technology. “The population is under-educated,” Afifa believes. A sixteen-year-old who has left school has no further opportunity for learning; she gets her information from sources like the mass-market Star newspaper, if anywhere at all.

An Open House at Di Institute for Social Leadership, a community-based non-profit educational program.

But the children (aged from six to sixteen and living in the neighboring community) “brought us face to face with many issues” almost immediately, said Afifa. She and Georgia were stunned by the level of violence and trauma the children experience as part of their everyday lives. It is much deeper and more widespread than they had perhaps expected. “The kids have no guidance in their lives,” said Afifa. Many are in need of counseling and therapy, she believes, but the waiting list at the nearby Mico Counseling Centre is “forever.” Di Institute needs professional help, mentors and support for the children. And, as in many communities across Jamaica, the situation is urgent, for our children. They need so much help.

Learning at Di Institute.

Although she has a B.Sc in International Relations, a M.Sc in Governance and PhD in Sustainable Development from the University of the West Indies, Afifa is skeptical of the “narrow” outlook of that institution. In any case, only about ten per cent of the Jamaican population has the opportunity to study there. It also bothers her that the only way to get some traction for programs, especially those for young people, is with fancy flyers, sexy photos and the “bling” that we see around us every day (yes, I am tired of that, too). She, Georgia and her supporters are idealistic, altruistic, and not profit-motivated. But the number of Jamaicans who share their approach is not high enough – there is no “critical mass,” says Afifa. She is hoping that before too long, Jamaicans will face up to the numerous “post-colonial issues that we need to address… We could present it all at a conference,” she suggests.

Our conversation broadens to something Afifa describes as “the pain of the mundane” – the sheer banality, the “ordinariness” of life in Jamaica. Afifa’s goal is to help lift Jamaica – and especially its young people – out of this mediocrity trap. She and Georgia know that there is a possibility they could become frustrated, and leave – as so many of their contemporaries with similar educational backgrounds have done, seeking greener pastures. Afifa sounds a little resigned. “It requires sacrifice to stay here,” she concedes. “We are choosing to do this. And we are not doing it for ourselves.”

And what of Jamaica’s future social and cultural development, in this bleak era of the IMF, unemployment, climate change? Afifa is not sure – like most of us – what the future holds, but she is determined to make a change. She observes (and I nod vigorously in agreement):

“There’s more to life than just getting by.”

To keep these spaces going, Afifa and Georgia have embarked on a crowd-funding mission, to raise just US$1,500. If you would like to support them in their efforts, go to http://www.gofundme.com/tosoulwithlove 

SO((U))L HQ in Stony Hill, Kingston.