CIVICUS speaks with Hope Azeda, a playwright, director and founder of Mashirika Performing Arts and Media Company, about her use of art as a tool for peacebuilding.

Artivism combines art and activism to address social issues, using creative expression as a tool to inspire change. Art helps stimulate reflection, raise awareness, foster empathy and inspire action. In Africa’s diverse cultural landscape, artivism plays an important role in drawing attention to pressing issues such as climate change, human rights and social justice.

What’s the focus of your activism?

My activism is about social and political justice, driven by a deep sense of empathy. Leadership without empathy feels hollow to me, and I believe real change starts at an individual level, both within ourselves and our organisations. The idea that someone else’s pain today could be our pain tomorrow is key: it’s about recognising and nurturing our common humanity.

If art is used only for entertainment, it has little meaning. Art has the power to create or destroy. If our goal in activism is to create, we must use the arts to do so. In Rwanda, we’ve seen how art has been used to incite violence. For me, it’s about making sure we, as artivists, are promoting positive change.

Much of my artistic activism revolves around a question: are we human enough? Before we promote peace, love or unity, we must examine our own hearts. We can only give what we have. Some spread violence because it’s what they carry inside. My focus is on this introspective journey – checking in with oneself before addressing the world, connecting the inner and outer worlds before embarking on the journey of activism.

I can do this through art because art is a universal language that transcends borders. Its universality gives it immense power for change.

Art also creates safe spaces where people can express themselves freely, innovate and have conversations that might otherwise be difficult. You can’t just stand in front of a crowd and say ‘let’s talk about genocide’ or ‘let’s talk about war’, but through art these conversations can be introduced in a more accessible and powerful way. It’s a quiet force, but a powerful one.

How do you combine art and activism in your work?

I use art as a tool for peacebuilding.

The genocide in Rwanda, which claimed a million lives in just 100 days, was a stark reminder that there is a mind behind every act of evil. In confronting such violence, we must do our homework and understand both the pathways to violence and the pathways to healing.

The very act of talking about the Rwandan genocide is the first step towards healing. When we first started these discussions, there was a lot of trauma, but it soon became clear this trauma was a release of long-held energy – something people had been carrying for years.

One of my current projects, Generation 25, focuses on young people born after the genocide. Talking to them has been eye-opening. We often think we’ve moved on, but the transmission of memory continues. Every year on 7 April, we remember the victims of the genocide, but what does it mean to someone who wasn’t there? How do these commemorations affect a child born after the event?

The word ‘remember’ implies remembering something you’ve experienced, yet these young people are being asked to remember something they haven’t lived. This raises questions about the nature of their emotions. Are we passing on negative energy or are we using these moments to learn, forgive and connect with the positive?

Generation 25 has highlighted how children who didn’t live through the genocide can still be traumatised by it, growing up in families where the trauma lingers. This unresolved trauma can manifest itself in destructive behaviour – depression, substance abuse or mental health problems. It’s as if some young people, even though they’re only 16, are carrying around 500 years’ worth of anger.

This project has been incredibly enlightening – it highlights the need to address not just the past, but how it affects the present and future. The ability to face these truths, however painful, is crucial. Difficult conversations take courage, but they are essential for healing. That’s the power of platforms like art – to create space for these vital discussions.

What challenges do you face as an artivist and how do you overcome them?

As an artivist, none of the projects I’ve done have ever been considered ‘normal’, and I’ve always faced resistance. When you hold on to hope, you’re often faced with hopeless situations that challenge you to bend or give in. I’ve always been an extravagant dreamer, thinking and dreaming big in everything I do.

When I started the Ubumuntu Arts Festival at the Kigali Genocide Memorial, many people questioned it. They were hesitant to hold a festival in a place that bears the weight of humanity’s failures. But to me it made perfect sense. How can we talk about humanity without acknowledging its darkest moments? Others were concerned about sponsorship, as no alcohol or cigarettes were allowed at the venue. But my response was simple: ‘Do you need to be drunk to hear these important stories?’

These are the kinds of challenges I face, but I don’t let them deter me. I have faith in the power of words and the worlds they can create.

Get in touch with Hope Azeda through her website or Instagram and Facebook pages, and follow @HopeAzeda on Twitter.