People back home call me a heckler, a troublemaker, an irritant, a rebel, an activist, the voice of the people. But that wasn't always me.
Kod kuće me zovu bukač, izazivač problema, iritant, buntovnik, aktivista, glas naroda. Ali nisam to bio oduvek.
Growing up, I had a nickname. They used to call me Softy, meaning the soft, harmless boy. Like every other human being, I avoided trouble. In my childhood, they taught me silence. Don't argue, do as you're told. In Sunday school, they taught me don't confront, don't argue, even if you're right, turn the other cheek.
Odrastajući, imao sam nadimak. Zvali su me mekušac, nežan i bezopasan dečak. Kao i svi drugi ljudi, klonio sam se nevolja. U detinjstvu su me učili ćutanju. Ne svađaj se, radi šta ti se kaže. U nedeljnoj školi su me učili ne suprotstavljaj se, ne svađaj se, čak i kad si u pravu, okreni drugi obraz.
This was reinforced by the political climate of the time. (Laughter) Kenya is a country where you are guilty until proven rich. (Laughter) Kenya's poor are five times more likely to be shot dead by the police who are meant to protect them than by criminals. This was reinforced by the political climate of the day. We had a president, Moi, who was a dictator. He ruled the country with an iron fist, and anyone who dared question his authority was arrested, tortured, jailed or even killed. That meant that people were taught to be smart cowards, stay out of trouble. Being a coward was not an insult. Being a coward was a compliment. We used to be told that a coward goes home to his mother. What that meant: that if you stayed out of trouble you're going to stay alive.
To je bilo potpomognuto političkom klimom tog doba. (Smeh) Kenija je zemlja u kojoj si kriv dok se ne dokaže da si bogat. (Smeh) Siromašni u Keniji su u pet puta većem riziku da ih ubije policija koja treba da ih štiti nego kriminalci. To je bilo potpomognuto političkom klimom tog doba. Imali smo predsednika, Moia, koji je bio diktator. Vladao je gvozdenom pesnicom, i ko se usudio da dovede u pitanje njegov autoritet bio bi uhapšen, mučen, zatvoren ili čak ubijen. To znači da su ljudi učeni da budu pametne kukavice, a ne problemi. Biti kukavica nije bila uvreda. Biti kukavica je bio kompliment. Govorili su nam da kukavica ide kući svojoj majci. To je značilo: ako se kloniš nevolje, ostaćeš živ.
I used to question this advice, and eight years ago we had an election in Kenya, and the results were violently disputed. What followed that election was terrible violence, rape, and the killing of over 1,000 people. My work was to document the violence. As a photographer, I took thousands of images, and after two months, the two politicians came together, had a cup of tea, signed a peace agreement, and the country moved on.
Dovodio sam ovaj savet u pitanje, i pre osam godina imali smo izbore u Keniji, i rezultati su bili žestoko osporeni. Ono što je usledilo bilo je strašno nasilje, silovanja i preko 1.000 ubijenih ljudi. Moj posao je bio da dokumentujem nasilje. Kao fotograf, slikao sam hiljade fotografija, i nakon dva meseca, dva političara su se srela, popila šolju čaja, potpisala mirovni sporazum i zemlja je krenula dalje.
I was a very disturbed man because I saw the violence firsthand. I saw the killings. I saw the displacement. I met women who had been raped, and it disturbed me, but the country never spoke about it. We pretended. We all became smart cowards. We decided to stay out of trouble and not talk about it.
Ja sam bio jako uznemiren jer sam video nasilje iz prve ruke. Video sam ubistva. Video sam raseljavanje. Sreo sam žene koje su bile silovane, i to me je uznemiravalo, ali zemlja uopšte nije pričala o tome. Pretvarali smo se. Svi smo postali pametne kukavice. Odlučili smo da se klonimo nevolje i ne pričamo o tome.
Ten months later, I quit my job. I said I could not stand it anymore. After quitting my job, I decided to organize my friends to speak about the violence in the country, to speak about the state of the nation, and June 1, 2009 was the day that we were meant to go to the stadium and try and get the president's attention. It's a national holiday, it's broadcast across the country, and I showed up at the stadium. My friends did not show up. I found myself alone, and I didn't know what to do. I was scared, but I knew very well that that particular day, I had to make a decision. Was I able to live as a coward, like everyone else, or was I going to make a stand? And when the president stood up to speak, I found myself on my feet shouting at the president, telling him to remember the post-election violence victims, to stop the corruption. And suddenly, out of nowhere, the police pounced on me like hungry lions. They held my mouth and dragged me out of the stadium, where they thoroughly beat me up and locked me up in jail. I spent that night in a cold cement floor in the jail, and that got me thinking. What was making me feel this way? My friends and family thought I was crazy because of what I did, and the images that I took were disturbing my life. The images that I took were just a number to many Kenyans. Most Kenyans did not see the violence. It was a story to them.
Deset meseci kasnije, dao sam otkaz. Rekao sam da ne mogu više. Nakon otkaza rešio sam da organizujem prijatelje da pričamo o nasilju u zemlji da pričamo o stanju nacije, i 1. jun 2009. je bio dan kada je trebalo da odemo na stadion i pokušamo da skrenemo pažnju predsedniku. Državni je praznik, emituje se širom zemlje, i ja sam se pojavio na stadionu. Moji prijatelji nisu. Našao sam se sam, i nisam znao šta da radim. Bio sam uplašen, ali sam dobro znao da baš tog dana moram da odlučim. Da li ću da živim kao kukavica kao svi drugi, ili ću da zauzmem stav? I kada je predsednik ustao da govori našao sam se na nogama vičući na predsednika, govoreći mu da se seti post-izbornih žrtava nasilja, da zaustavi korupciju. Odjednom, niotkuda, policajci su se okomili na mene kao gladni lavovi. Zapušili su mi usta i odvukli me sa stadiona, zatim dobrano pretukli i bacili u zatvor. Proveo sam tu noć na hladnom betonskom podu zatvora i to me je nateralo na razmišljanje. Zbog čega sam se ovako osećao? Moji prijatelji i porodica su mislili da sam lud što sam to uradio, a fotografije koje sam slikao su uznemiravale moj život. Te fotografije su bile samo broj mnogim Kenijcima. Većina Kenijaca nije videla nasilje. To je za njih bila priča.
And so I decided to actually start a street exhibition to show the images of the violence across the country and get people talking about it. We traveled the country and showed the images, and this was a journey that has started me to the activist path, where I decided to become silent no more, to talk about those things. We traveled, and our general site from our street exhibit became for political graffiti about the situation in the country, talking about corruption, bad leadership. We have even done symbolic burials. We have delivered live pigs to Kenya's parliament as a symbol of our politicians' greed. It has been done in Uganda and other countries, and what is most powerful is that the images have been picked by the media and amplified across the country, across the continent.
I tako sam rešio da zapravo započnem uličnu izložbu da pokažem fotografije nasilja celoj zemlji, da podstaknem ljude da pričaju o tome. Proputovali smo zemlju i pokazali fotografije, i to je bilo putovanje kojim je započeo moj aktivistički rad, kada sam rešio da više neću ćutati, da ću pričati o tim stvarima. Putovali smo, i naše glavno mesto je od ulične izložbe postalo mesto za političke grafite o situaciji u zemlji, koji govore o korupciji, lošem rukovodstvu. Čak smo imali i simbolične sahrane. Isporučili smo žive svinje u kenijski parlament kao simbol pohlepe naših političara. Radili su to i u Ugandi i drugim zemljama, i ono što je jako moćno je to što su slike pokupili mediji i preneli širom zemlje, širom kontinenta.
Where I used to stand up alone seven years ago, now I belong to a community of many people who stand up with me. I am no longer alone when I stand up to speak about these things. I belong to a group of young people who are passionate about the country, who want to bring about change, and they're no longer afraid, and they're no longer smart cowards. So that was my story. That day in the stadium, I stood up as a smart coward. By that one action, I said goodbye to the 24 years living as a coward.
Ustao sam sam pre sedam godina, a sada pripadam grupi ljudi koji stoje zajedno sa mnom. Više nisam sam kada ustanem da pričam o tim stvarima. Pripadam grupi mladih ljudi kojima je stalo do zemlje, koji žele promene, i oni se više ne plaše i više nisu pametne kukavice. To je moja priča. Tog dana na stadionu, ustao sam kao pametna kukavica. I tim jednim potezom, pozdravio sam se sa 24 godine života kukavice.
There are two most powerful days in your life: the day you're born, and the day you discover why. That day standing up in that stadium shouting at the President, I discovered why I was truly born, that I would no longer be silent in the face of injustice. Do you know why you were born? Thank you. (Applause)
Dva su dana najmoćnija u životu: dan kada ste rođeni, i dan kada otkrijete zašto. Tog dana kada sam ustao na stadionu, vikao na predsednika, otkrio sam zašto sam zaista rođen, i da neću više ćutati o nepravdama. Da li vi znate zašto ste rođeni? Hvala vam. (Aplauz)
Tom Rielly: It's an amazing story. I just want to ask you a couple quick questions. So PAWA254: you've created a studio, a place where young people can go and harness the power of digital media to do some of this action. What's happening now with PAWA?
Tom Rajli: Neverovatna priča. Želim da ti postavim par kratkih pitanja. Dakle, PAWA254: osnovao si studio, mesto gde mladi mogu da odu i iskoriste moć digitalnih medija za neku akciju. Šta se sada dešava sa PAWA?
Boniface Mwangi: So we have this community of filmmakers, graffiti artists, musicians, and when there's an issue in the country, we come together, we brainstorm, and take up on that issue. So our most powerful tool is art, because we live in a very busy world where people are so busy in their life, and they don't have time to read. So we package our activism and we package our message in art. So from the music, the graffiti, the art, that's what we do. Can I say one more thing?
Bonifejs Muangi: Imamo grupu filmskih stvaralaca, grafiti umetnika, muzičara, i kada postoji problem u zemlji, skupimo se, mozgamo, i bacimo se na problem. Naše najmoćnije oruđe je umetnost, jer živimo u veoma užurbanom svetu gde su ljudi toliko zauzeti da nemaju vremena da čitaju. Tako spakujemo naš aktivizam, spakujemo našu poruku u umetnost. Dakle, od muzike do grafita, umetnosti, to je to što radimo. Mogu li da kažem samo jednu stvar?
TR: Yeah, of course. (Applause)
TR: Da, naravno. (Aplauz)
BM: In spite of being arrested, beaten up, threatened, the moment I discovered my voice, that I could actually stand up for what I really believed in, I'm no longer afraid. I used to be called softy, but I'm no longer softy, because I discovered who I really am, as in, that's what I want to do, and there's such beauty in doing that. There's nothing as powerful as that, knowing that I'm meant to do this, because you don't get scared, you just continue living your life.
BM: Iako sam hapšen, prebijan, prećeno mi je, od momenta kad sam otkrio svoj glas, da zapravo mogu da ustanem za ono u šta verujem, više se ne plašim. Zvali su me mekušcem, ali više nisam mekušac, jer sam otkrio ko ja zaista jesam, u smislu onoga što želim da radim. i u tome je prava lepota. Ništa nije tako moćno kao to, saznanje da time treba da se bavim, jer se više ne plašiš, samo nastaviš da živiš.
Thank you.
Hvala vam.
(Applause)
(Aplauz)