Personal Reflection

By Furaha Mussanzi

I first heard about the From Local to Global (FLTG) exhibition through a friend who wanted to connect me with the curators of the project. They were keen to meet members of the Congolese community based in Yorkshire, to share the story behind the exhibition and gather some constructive feedback on how the exhibition could be done in a culturally appropriate manner. Initially, I wasn’t at all interested, I had just handed in my notice to leave my job of 6 years and booked a one-way ticket to the DR Congo with two instructions to ‘rest and heal’. Exhausted from extreme burn out, the only thing on my mind was to go home, switch off and disconnect from anything that felt like ‘work’. This would be the first time I would visit my home town of Bunia in Eastern DRC since I left as a 10-year-old, fleeing the deadly Congo Second War which has claimed the lives of over 6 million people and counting. Congo was everything I prayed and hoped it would be to my soul, mind, body and spirit and I came back lighter than I left.

I returned back to the UK with a renewed sense of identity, focus and determination to engage more with matters concerning Congo, to intentionally continue having links with my home country and keen to read, research more into the history of my home country with the hopes to use my creativity to share my experience and tell stories no one knew about. So when my parents and I finally met with Dorcas and Yasmin in October 2022, I knew this was going to be an important path for me to journey. Over the years, I have learned that the more I commit my time and energy to learning about Congo, the more I realise there is still so much to unpack, it’s almost like slowly peeling an onion, each layer represents a deep broken and complex history which needs to be understood through a social, political and cultural lens but also unravels the tremendous beauty, strength and resilience of Congolese people.

History has a lot to teach us about the legacy and impact of colonialism on modern societies and Congo’s story is perhaps one of the most devastating and brutal. Although I would consider myself to be very aware of Congo’s history and hold a Master’s degree in African Peace and Conflict Studies, I had never come across Colonel James Harrison before and so I went to see the exhibition with an open mind. While viewing the exhibition, I remember being moved to tears as I walked around the gallery. I felt strangely connected to the objects I saw and touched in the Harrison Collection, strange because these objects didn’t really mean much to me personally as a first-generation migrant living in 21st Century Britain. This deep-rooted connection was because I felt the weight of the significant story they carried. A story of privilege, power, personal enrichment, hyper masculinity and theatrical triumphalism all in the name of big game hunting or ‘blood sport’ in order to kill and collect animal specimens, taxidermised as his own personal trophies. I remember feeling furious with righteous indignation thinking about how DR Congo continues to be looted and plundered of its natural and human resources to this day for global capitalist gain. To me, these objects represented a really harsh reality and the fact that Congo has never owned or had control of its resources, power and destiny because outsiders and insiders, both in the past and present, have always taken advantage of it and robbed Congo of its agency and self-actualisation.

Reading through Harrison’s journals and what he got up to each day and how he viewed and interacted with his ‘pygmy friends’, namely the Bambuti people, and seeing the pictures he took was wild and weird. I found myself feeling particularly triggered and uncomfortable hearing the stories of how Harrison brought and toured Bambuti people as human zoo across the UK including Buckingham Palace. As someone who recently had the immense privilege of meeting King Charles, I could not stop thinking about what that must have felt like for them to be uprooted from their home and be subjected to such inhumane treatment for people’s pleasure and entertainment, but equally felt sad at the thought of how normal this must have been at the time and the legacy of how racism continues to exist today, especially in institutions like museums across the west.

I remember thinking these were my ancestors from Ituri where I grew up, who were being viewed like animals and sad at the fact that they continue to face horrendous marginalisation, discrimination and abuse even today by other neighbouring communities and tribes. I was reminded of the danger of the single story and the reality of the single story that continues to be told about my home country Congo today - that we are still primitive, backward, and people are senselessly killing each other without remorse and with impunity. Yet, no one talks about the ways indigenous communities like Bambuti people are still standing and surviving despite being confronted by persistent racism, political violence, logging and deforestation which is encroaching and destroying the forest, the only place they know to be home. As one Bambuti member shared with CRC Congo recently:

"If the forest dies, we will die too, because we are the people of the forest."

Overall, I am grateful to have had the access, privilege and opportunity to view and engage with the FLTG exhibition, to learn something new, expand my knowledge about the links the UK and specifically Scarborough has with Congo and although the story and narrative was incredibly tragic and triggering for a young Congolese activist and campaigner, it was refreshing and encouraging to see Scarborough Museum and Galleries tackling these issues head on and inviting local people to learn more about my home country, Congo.