Janis Slingsby
Feb 19, 2020
Tracing the resilience of the Kara people in Dus, where tradition meets the challenges of a changing world.
Faced with the consequences of loss; their ancestral land, their forests, their rivers, their cows, their crops; the Kara community of Dus, located in East Africa, are faced with little choice but to comply with the pressures of a monetarised world and formal education, which they have chosen to embrace.
The landscape of Dus is dominated by the imposing parliament building constructed of large timbers, representing the cornerstone of the ancient Kara culture. Across the village, in stark irony, as compensation for their losses and a supposed perk of development, stands the ‘modern’ dilapidated and direly underfunded classrooms. Nevertheless, the classrooms of Dus have much to be proud of, producing influential graduates who are able to represent the Kara communities needs through the challenges and changes.
The significance of this series is to raise awareness of the sometimes, calamitous process and losses suffered in the evolution from traditional lifestyle to modernity; that it is happening now; perhaps not as striking, perhaps not as rapidly, not only in some forgotten corner of Africa, but in our backyards.
Arundhati Roy poignantly articulates this moment:
“From being self-sufficient and free, to being impoverished and yoked to the whims of a world you know nothing, nothing about - what d’you suppose it must feel like? Indigenous people - the people who still know the secrets of sustainable living - are not relics of the past, but the guides to our future.” Arundhati Roy
Classrooms of Dus Backstory
Some of the most exciting and beautiful experiences in my life have been the creative research, field trips I’ve taken to the traditional communities living in East Africa’s, Omo Valley.
I’ve made repeated visits there since 2013. The environment is a challenge, where living in remote areas, time sometimes stands still, meaning limited opportunity to engage, as men depart to graze cattle, women go out to tend the crops, or perhaps just succumb to the heat of the day and honey mead. Heat, thirst and fatigue can be overwhelming. The nights are disturbed with an orchestra of animal sounds. While doxycycline may protect me from malaria, it doesn’t prevent the night-time raids of persistent mosquitos or daytime feasting of Nairobi flies.
In this remote part of Africa, there is no running water or electricity. Camera batteries have to be abundant and at hand. A driver, translator, tracker, cook and at times, soldiers are members of my team. Water is limited to drinking; clean clothes are those discarded as dirty a week earlier. But there is nothing to beat the warmth, hospitality and love of the Omo Valley communities who I have got to know, not as anonymous subjects, but by name, who I deeply care for, whose company I enjoy, and with whom communication is kept up with from afar; which keeps me going back again and again and again...
