December 13, 2022 4:25 pm
With his long dreadlocks, dangling hat and fondness for reggae, Abdallah Ahmed, 31, has long known that his dreadlocks can cost dearly in his home country of Sudan.
If in Jamaica the Ethiopian emperor Haile Selassie is considered a messiah by his Rasta faithful, in Sudan, a country with a clear Muslim majority, Rastafarianism is more a cultural than a spiritual movement.
Under the rule of dictator Omar al Bashir, Ahmed – aka Max Man – suffered the wrath of the Islamic police: in 2017, he was arrested while singing at a reggae concert, accused of possession of drugs and sentenced to twenty lashes of the whip. At the time, the police didn’t hesitate to shave dreadlocks in public and pick on dreadlocks for violating the regime’s strict dress code.
Doors closed again
In 2019, when the army was forced to remove Al Bashir under the pressure of the riots, the Rastas “were thrilled”, recalls the Sudanese singer. After living their passion secretly during the dictatorship “many musicians and artists have sprung up”, he says. But when General Abdel Fattah al Burhan, former commander of Al Bashir’s army, re-established military power with his coup a year ago, all doors closed again. Among the 121 demonstrators killed during the repression, which still continues unabated, there are many Rastas, recalls Afraa Saad, a 35-year-old filmmaker who also sports long dreadlocks.
There is a deep-rooted misconception, in Sudan and elsewhere, that “those who wear dreadlocks are drug addicts or outcasts,” stresses Afraa Saad
The Rastas denounce that they are often the first to be targeted during roundups that precede or follow calls to demonstrate, because they are the most identifiable. And among these long-haired young people, many have come out with their skulls shaved by the policemen.
According to Abdallah Ahmed, the dreadlocks with their atypical look are “targets”. “But that never convinced them to take off their dreadlocks. Some died because they didn’t want to hide that they were Rasta.” And so next to slogans such as “The military in the barracks!” and “Power to civilians!”, the emblematic “Rastas don’t die” appeared. During sit-ins, parades or rallies, everywhere you can see flags with the face of Bob Marley, red-green-yellow hats and hear reggae songs in English or Arabic.
“Rastafarianism teaches us that we must tell the truth, be courageous, fight for our rights,” explains Abdallah Ahmed on the sidelines of a rare art exhibition in Khartoum. Yet, underlines Afraa Saad, there is a well-rooted prejudice, in Sudan and elsewhere, according to which “those who wear dreadlocks are drug addicts or outcasts. Often, people ask me how a woman can wear dreadlocks, since there are so many other hairstyles that are more recommendable,” he says.
But for her, wearing dreadlocks isn’t just an aesthetic issue. It is a political message. Under Al Bashir, women’s habits were strictly controlled and their role in society was in fact greatly reduced. In response, Afraa Saad let the dreadlocks grow: “They have become my identity, what represents me,” she assures.
Salem Abdallah, ten years his junior, let his hair grow out to protest the military junta. “And I will keep my dreadlocks until the military regime falls,” he shouts during a demonstration against the coup.
(Translation by Thomas Lemaire)