His acclaimed Studio Abazon was fire-bombed in September 2015 in retaliation for his role in the ending of the 27-year tenure of former President Blaise Compaoré. Smockey has no doubt the attack was an attempt on his life in revenge for his activism. Thankfully the rapper was in hiding at the time and was unharmed.
Index on Censorship has named Smockey as the inaugural recipient of the Music in Exile Fund Fellowship. As the beneficiary, he will perform live in London, as well as receive training and opportunities to connect with other free speech heroes around the world. Smockey is committed to getting his studio up and running again and creating more music. Here’s just a snippet of his work as a musician and producer.
Smockey – Votez Pour Moi
Votez Pour Moi (Vote for Me) was released at the time of the 2005 presidential elections in Burkina Faso. It is about the dire state of democracy in the country. “This song is very ironic and satirical,” says Smockey. “In it, I play the role of a dictator making many promises he doesn’t intend to keep.” Dictators aren’t known for their sense of humour, but so out of touch was Compaoré’s government that they actually used Votez Pour Moi in their political campaign, playing on the TV every day.
“They didn’t listen to the lyrics and so didn’t realise it was a joke at their expense. Being in power for 30 years, they could only think of themselves,” Smockey told Index on Censorship.
Smockey – A Qui Profite le Crime
The title of this track translates as: who benefits from the crime? It is about the assassination of Thomas Sankara, the revolutionary president of Burkina Faso from 1983 until his assassination in 1987. Smockey is a self-proclaimed Sankarist, a left-wing ideology in the tradition of Sankara, who was murdered during a coup d’état organised by Compaoré.
The opening lines of the song, translated from their original French, are as follows: “So everything was planned from the beginning / For the country, but the finish is death we were served; routine investigation / Who benefits? Who benefits from the cime? / Who knows? / We were misled.”
Smockey – Tomber la Lame
Tombre la Lame (Falling Blade) is a song about female genital mutilation, a practice still common in Burkina Faso. “It happens as a result of local traditions and customs, and also religion, namely Islam,” explained Smockey. “It’s a very bad practice; women get hurt and go on to have complications later in life, such as when giving birth.” FGM is a major problem in West Africa in general, and Smockey wants to “convince people that they have to stop it”. Sankara was committed to women’s rights during his brief time in power and outlawed FGM, among other things. “When Sankara was killed, progress on this front was stopped in its tracks, so we have to continue the fight,” said Smockey.
Smockey – A Balles Reelles
In 2008, students in Ouagadougou, the capital of Burkina Faso, faced severe hardship following the sudden eviction from their halls of residence, the closure of essential facilities and the cancellation of welfare payments without notice. Authorities took the action following confrontations between students and police on 22 June 2008.
Balles Reelles, which translates as “real bullets”, is a song criticising the authorities for their harsh treatment of young people. At a press conference, Smockey and his collaborator on the track, the reggae artist Sams’K Le Jah, also criticised the passivity of the students’ parents in the face of the harsh treatment of their children. “Parents are silent when the university is closed and some students have become vulnerable,” Le Jah said.
Les Ambassadeurs de la Liberté d’Expression – Le Droit de Vivre
Les Ambassadeurs de la Liberté d’Expression, or the Ambassadors for Freedom of Expression, is a collaborative project effort including Smockey and other musicians from west Africa who are committed to strengthening freedom of expression in the region. Le Droit de Vivre (The Right to Live) was recorded at Studio Abazon before it was bombed. It is a song against extremism and injustice.
Other artists in the project include Didier Awadi of Senegal, Sissao, Alif Naaba from Burkina Faso, and Marechal Zongo, Josey and Soum Bill from Côte d’Ivoire, among others.
“Not everyone is lucky enough to have a microphone in front of them, so if you have the chance to talk, you have to say something important,” Smockey said of the project. “Art doesn’t just have to be beautiful – it can be beautiful and useful at the same time.”
Index on Censorship has teamed up with the producers of an award-winning documentary about Mali’s musicians, They Will Have To Kill Us First, to create the Music in Exile Fund to support musicians facing censorship globally. You can donate here, or give £10 by texting “BAND61 £10” to 70070.
Searching for “dissident artists” online, you’d be forgiven for thinking they are a purely Chinese or Russian phenomenon. But for every Ai Weiwei or Pussy Riot, there are scores of artists and musicians around the world whose persecution does not make the Six O’Clock News.
Serge Bambara — aka Smockey, meaning “se moquer”, or “to mock” — is a hip-hop artist and activist little known outside his home country of Burkina Faso, but who has had a marked impact on political and social developments there.
He combines rap with traditional Burkinabé music and often humour to “spread truth”. “Knowledge is important, and I write as a way of presenting it to the people,” he told Index on Censorship.
Index on Censorship is proud to name Smockey as the recipient of the Music in Exile Fund Fellowship. As the beneficiary, he will perform live in London, as well as receive training and opportunities to connect with other free speech heroes around the world.
“Serge Bambara’s overtly political music has made him a target for entrenched interests in Burkina Faso,” said Jodie Ginsberg, CEO of Index on Censorship. “Throughout his career, he has used his talents to fight for racial equality and battle corruption. We are delighted to have him as the inaugural Music in Exile fellow.”
In September 2015, after two years of serious activism and over 15 years of writing music about the problems in his country, forces loyal to the recently ousted president Blaise Compaoré — obviously unhappy with the truths he was spreading — bombed Smockey’s recording studio, the acclaimed Studio Abazon. The attack was an apparent attempt on his life as revenge for the role his music and activism played in the deposition of Compaoré, according to Smockey.
Attacks on artistic freedom — particularly musicians — almost doubled in 2015. But to understand why Smockey was targeted in such a violent and specific manner, we need to go back to his roots.
Smockey first became interested in hip-hop music through listening to American artists like Public Enemy, Afrika Bambaataa and LL Cool J. He began rapping in Burkina Faso in 1988, before moving to France in 1991 to study. While there, he signed to the record label EMI, but it wasn’t until he returned to his country of birth on a holiday in 1999 that his music took on the political dimension it is famed for today.
“It was around the time of the murder of journalist Norbert Zongo, who was assassinated following investigations into the activist by president Blaise Compaoré,” he said. “Student demonstrators were being beaten by police. It was very disturbing to me.”
Smockey soon packed up his computer and keyboard in France and moved back home to Burkina Faso in 2001. “Seeing the things going on in my country, I had to do something,” he said. “At the time, I didn’t know exactly what, but I knew it would involve music.”
He understands fully the responsibility that often comes with being in the spotlight in a country burdened by so many difficulties. “Not everyone is lucky enough to have a microphone in front of them, so if you have the chance to talk, you have to say something important,” Smockey said. This is the thinking behind subversive songs like Votez Pour Moi (about democracy), Tomber la Lame (FGM) and A Qui Profite le Crime (government corruption).
In the summer of 2013, Smockey co-founded Le Balai Citoyen, or The Citizen’s Broom, with reggae artist Sams’K Le Jah. The grassroots movement was set up in opposition to Compaoré, aiming to bring positive change to Burkina Faso. “As our problems were political, our solutions had to be political also,” Smockey explained.
As for the name and ethos of the movement, he said: “With just one twig, you won’t get much done, but when you bind them together and make a broom you can clean a lot of shit. This is why we always say ‘our number is our strength’ because it is impossible to be defeated if we are united.”
Le Balai Citoyen played a big part in the ousting of Compaoré. It urged the people of Burkina Faso to organise and take to the streets. Following mass demonstrations in late 2014, Compaoré resigned on 31 October after 27 years in power. A transition government, led by the military, was established, which Smockey was broadly supportive of. However, a military coup saw General Gilbert Diendéré — leader of the Regiment of Presidential Security (RSP), Compaoré’s former secret service — seize power in September 2015.
Le Balai Citoyen staged a march to the presidential palace in protest of the coup. Smockey, along with fellow demonstrators, were shot at and then chased through the streets of Ouagadougou by RSP. Although Smockey managed to escape, many others were beaten and arrested.
“We knew we were lucky, but we weren’t able to go home,” he said. On 17 September he went into hiding. Asked whether he is an artist or an activist first, Smockey told Index on Censorship that depends on what he is doing at any one time. His fans tend not to draw a distinction, he explained. Nor did Diendéré, it would seem, whose forces rocket-bombed Smockey’s studio on the same day he went underground.
Studio Abazon was a hub for young and aspiring musicians. “They attacked it because they knew it was an important landmark to the resistance,” Smockey explained. “Their thinking was that you have to kill the leaders, everyone else will go away.”
Prior to the attack, the rapper had received death threats, and although he had the opportunity to flee to Holland, he stayed put. “You can’t talk about strength in numbers if on the first sign of difficulty you are going to run away,” he said.
Diendéré’s rule didn’t last long as he failed to consolidate his authority and came under pressure from international leaders and the army to step down. Smockey came out of hiding and fresh elections were held in Burkina Faso.
“The current government, although it’s not perfect, was chosen by the people so it’s legitimate,” explains Smockey. “Our job is now to be the watchers and guards of democracy.”
The rapper is optimistic about the future of his country and proud of the role his music and activism have played in developments so far. With the progress made, he now plans to put more focus on his music. “I’ve started rebuilding the studio, and have already begun recording artists again, but much more work needs to be done,” he said.
He has plans for a tour of the country and wants to set up a hip-hop festival. “It will create a kind of bridge between rappers, old school and new,” he said. “We’re going to do one big concert every month as a way of keeping people connected.”
When Index on Censorship launched the Music in Exile Fund in October 2015 along with the producers of the award-winning documentary They Will Have To Kill Us First, Johanna Schwartz, director of the film, said: “When faced with censorship, musicians across the world need our support.”
In whatever small way, the Music in Exile Fund will help see Smockey’s plans become reality.
The Music In Exile Fund was launched to help support musicians facing censorship around the world. The fund contributes to Index on Censorship’s year-long Freedom of Expression Awards Fellowship programme, helping musicians to build their international profile and to create, perform and share their work in a safe environment. You can donate here.
