- Email: [email protected]
We are together
Media Watch
Film We are together Life without music would be a mistake.
We Are Together (Thina Simunye) Rise Films, 2007 Directed by Paul Taylor Various countries, 82 min UK release date: March 7, 2008 For more information visit http://www.wearetogether.org
Friedrich Nietzsche
http://infection.thelancet.com Vol 8 February 2008
The printed journal includes an image merely for illustration http://www.wearetogether.org/
The AIDS epidemic has cost sub-Saharan Africa dearly, robbing countries of their youth, and orphaning millions of children. This in turn has had an impact on economic health; with the workforce worse than decimated, fewer people are left to generate wealth. And without wealth, how can people afford antiretroviral drugs? How can governments afford sex education drives? And does not poverty lead to desperate measures? Women forced into prostitution, for example. And so the Catch 22 is compounded, and the HIV-infection rate keeps rising, and the children keep being orphaned. 26-year-old Sifiso Moya is sick. The slender South African lives in a shack in the mountainous KwaZulu Natal region of the country. He is bedridden. His sister worries that he might have developed full-blown AIDS: “it is usually the cause when somebody is ill”, she says sadly. Their parents have died, presumably from AIDS-related illnesses. Half the siblings stay with Sifiso, the others—four sisters and 4-yearold brother Mtho—are residents of the Agape children’s home. We are together is the story of the Moya family, and of the orphanage that took them in. At the film’s start, 25 children live at Agape (pronounced Uh-gaap-eh). It was established by the stately “Grandma” Zodwa. “It’s a place for children who don’t have parents”, she explains, adding that it is chiefly AIDS that brings about such a situation. All of which is part of the common experience of sub-Saharan Africa: virtually every nation is affected by high mortality rates; orphanages dot the hinterland; disease and warfare have devastated the continent. What distinguishes Agape is music. Every day after school, the children congregate in a yellow prefab hut and, under the enthusiastic tutelage of volunteer teacher Thembelani, they stand and rehearse the songs—some gospel, some traditional Zulu—that will eventually lead them to New York. “Music plays a very big part in the culture of this country”, points out Zwai Bala, a domestic pop star who has joined the children to record a CD. “We South Africans sing before we sleep, sing before we eat, we sing when we’re happy, we sing when we’re celebrating, we sing when we’re sad; all the time.” And the children certainly enjoy the experience; they giggle and jostle and excitedly sway to the music. Interwoven with the effervescent scenes of singing and dancing, is the sombre tale of Sifiso. His condition worsens, and he is eventually admitted to hospital. The HIV diagnosis is confirmed and Sifiso is rendered to the care of his family. He can no longer manage the dirt track to the Moya homestead; his younger sister finds him waiting at the gate, and carries him up the scrubby hill. She looks in horror at the phalanx of
pills he has brought. “These ones should help you”, she says uncomprehendingly, “because there are lots of them”. Sifiso’s fate is never in doubt. His cheeks begin to hollow, and he finds breathing more and more difficult. Meanwhile, at Agape, the crestfallen children are told that their eagerly awaited trip to England has been postponed. But the tone of the film remains joyous, largely because of the frequent musical interludes. A particular highlight is 7-year-old Mbali, wringing her hands as she adeptly sings solo. It’s an interesting documentary, a demonstration of the sheer force that music can exert even, or perhaps especially, in the most straitened of circumstances. The film culminates in the children sharing stage with Paul Simon and Alicia Keys; more than any other expressive medium, music has that power to cross cultural barriers. At Sifiso’s funeral, sister Slindile enjoins her family to “remember we are not the only ones going through this”. It is at once a call to stoicism and a comfort. Music can’t ameliorate the problems facing modern Africa, but it can provide a unique succour. We are together reminds us that there is more to Africa, much more, than death and destruction.
Talha Burki [email protected]
97
Film We are together Life without music would be a mistake.
We Are Together (Thina Simunye) Rise Films, 2007 Directed by Paul Taylor Various countries, 82 min UK release date: March 7, 2008 For more information visit http://www.wearetogether.org
Friedrich Nietzsche
http://infection.thelancet.com Vol 8 February 2008
The printed journal includes an image merely for illustration http://www.wearetogether.org/
The AIDS epidemic has cost sub-Saharan Africa dearly, robbing countries of their youth, and orphaning millions of children. This in turn has had an impact on economic health; with the workforce worse than decimated, fewer people are left to generate wealth. And without wealth, how can people afford antiretroviral drugs? How can governments afford sex education drives? And does not poverty lead to desperate measures? Women forced into prostitution, for example. And so the Catch 22 is compounded, and the HIV-infection rate keeps rising, and the children keep being orphaned. 26-year-old Sifiso Moya is sick. The slender South African lives in a shack in the mountainous KwaZulu Natal region of the country. He is bedridden. His sister worries that he might have developed full-blown AIDS: “it is usually the cause when somebody is ill”, she says sadly. Their parents have died, presumably from AIDS-related illnesses. Half the siblings stay with Sifiso, the others—four sisters and 4-yearold brother Mtho—are residents of the Agape children’s home. We are together is the story of the Moya family, and of the orphanage that took them in. At the film’s start, 25 children live at Agape (pronounced Uh-gaap-eh). It was established by the stately “Grandma” Zodwa. “It’s a place for children who don’t have parents”, she explains, adding that it is chiefly AIDS that brings about such a situation. All of which is part of the common experience of sub-Saharan Africa: virtually every nation is affected by high mortality rates; orphanages dot the hinterland; disease and warfare have devastated the continent. What distinguishes Agape is music. Every day after school, the children congregate in a yellow prefab hut and, under the enthusiastic tutelage of volunteer teacher Thembelani, they stand and rehearse the songs—some gospel, some traditional Zulu—that will eventually lead them to New York. “Music plays a very big part in the culture of this country”, points out Zwai Bala, a domestic pop star who has joined the children to record a CD. “We South Africans sing before we sleep, sing before we eat, we sing when we’re happy, we sing when we’re celebrating, we sing when we’re sad; all the time.” And the children certainly enjoy the experience; they giggle and jostle and excitedly sway to the music. Interwoven with the effervescent scenes of singing and dancing, is the sombre tale of Sifiso. His condition worsens, and he is eventually admitted to hospital. The HIV diagnosis is confirmed and Sifiso is rendered to the care of his family. He can no longer manage the dirt track to the Moya homestead; his younger sister finds him waiting at the gate, and carries him up the scrubby hill. She looks in horror at the phalanx of
pills he has brought. “These ones should help you”, she says uncomprehendingly, “because there are lots of them”. Sifiso’s fate is never in doubt. His cheeks begin to hollow, and he finds breathing more and more difficult. Meanwhile, at Agape, the crestfallen children are told that their eagerly awaited trip to England has been postponed. But the tone of the film remains joyous, largely because of the frequent musical interludes. A particular highlight is 7-year-old Mbali, wringing her hands as she adeptly sings solo. It’s an interesting documentary, a demonstration of the sheer force that music can exert even, or perhaps especially, in the most straitened of circumstances. The film culminates in the children sharing stage with Paul Simon and Alicia Keys; more than any other expressive medium, music has that power to cross cultural barriers. At Sifiso’s funeral, sister Slindile enjoins her family to “remember we are not the only ones going through this”. It is at once a call to stoicism and a comfort. Music can’t ameliorate the problems facing modern Africa, but it can provide a unique succour. We are together reminds us that there is more to Africa, much more, than death and destruction.
Talha Burki [email protected]
97