In the heart of Naples, a city often celebrated for its ancient history and vibrant culture, there exists an invisible, multi-ethnic pulse. This rhythm beats through the fervent verses of rap ballads and the uninhibited steps of dancehall, embodying the spirit of a new generation: the Afro-Neapolitans. This hidden world is vividly brought to life in ‘Lievete da annanze ‘o sole’ (Get out of the sun), a powerful documentary by Halim Mohammed.
A Filmmaker’s Homage and a City’s Untold Story
Presented at the 50th edition of Laceno d’Oro, where it received a special mention from the popular jury in the international Spazio Campania section, Mohammed’s film is more than just a cinematic endeavor; it’s a profound exploration of identity, dreams, and resilience. Halim Mohammed, a 35-year-old Neapolitan videomaker and activist of Somali origin, delves into the hopes and struggles within Naples’ Black community. His lens captures the burgeoning artistic core of second-generation immigrants – a group often overlooked, yet one that faces the future with courage and a perspective distinctly different from their parents, who fled conflicts like the Somali civil war in the 1990s.
“My real name is Abdulkadir Monaco Abdullahi Omar, but I chose to call myself Halim Mohammed, honoring my grandmother and grandfather, who both lived through the war in Somalia,” shares Mohammed. “They weren’t as fortunate as me; I had the chance to escape and move to Naples at five years old. I owe everything to them.” This deep sense of gratitude permeates the film, where Naples serves not as a picturesque backdrop, but as a silent witness to a narrative free from local parochialism and tourist clichés. The documentary even pays homage to Thomas Sankara, the Burkinabé patriot assassinated in 1987, a charismatic leader who championed reforms for the poor.
Unveiling Hidden Histories and Challenging Eurocentrism
Mohammed critiques the Eurocentric education system that often omits figures like Sankara. “Sankara proved that culture is the first basis of revolution. Unfortunately, the school I attended in Italy is Eurocentric and often hides figures like him. I find it absurd because even young Italians should know about the deeds of a man who lowered infant mortality from seventy to ten percent. We, racialized people, only learn about our countries through personal research. It’s good to study Dante, but it would also be appropriate to know about Ilaria Alpi and her commitment in Mogadishu,” the director asserts.
Yvonne, a choreographer and dancer featured in the film, elevates this sentiment further: “‘Dad, do you want to tell me about Africa?’ But he says nothing, because he carries the open wound of a man who had to migrate, convincing himself that it’s not functional for his children to know their culture. I was born and raised in Italy, but I try in every way to discover my origins. For my father, his culture is less important than Italian culture; it’s not worthy of being told, while I am proud of my culture. And I don’t want my children to feel Italian just because it’s simpler to be Italian.”
The Pulse of Unity: From the Periphery to the Stage
‘Lievete da annanze ‘o sole’ takes its title from a phrase sung by James Senese in “Malasorte,” a track by Napoli Centrale. The film’s narrative unfolds across diverse locations: the city’s periphery, the Capodimonte woods, and the Mercato district, home to the Unity Club. This club serves as a vibrant stage for events organized by the children of immigrants and acts as an epicenter of unity and defiance, connecting young people from nations such as Gambia, Senegal, Somalia, and Ghana.
The documentary features emerging rappers and choreographers like Gea, a singer and art director, and Lalla, a public relations professional. “A friend of mine says her dream is to be Black. But try being Black when you’re fifteen and get teased at school for your braids. Try renting a house with a Black surname, and then we’ll talk,” Lalla explains, flipping through a family album, highlighting the everyday prejudices faced by the community.
Mohammed’s journey continues to the Spanish Quarters, where he films young singer Sahra Aka Zahro practicing a cover of Eurythmics’ “Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This)” in front of a mirror. “Everyone wants hope, only I don’t know where to go!” Sahra sings, echoing a sentiment of longing and uncertainty. The camera, often a simple smartphone, then unexpectedly travels to Giugliano, aboard a forklift driven by rapper El Say. Here, Yoruba music contrasts with the bleakness of a warehouse and the silence of a stock clerk who dreams of making it big in the music world. The film culminates at the Unity Club’s season-ending concert, with rapper Doppy Gee electrifying the stage.
A Quest for Normalization and a New Naples
“There’s a lot of music in the documentary because rap, fortunately, allows us to discuss politics without political jargon,” Mohammed explains. He decided to make the film after an interview where his words were distorted and manipulated by the media. “I also wanted to demystify the stigmatization among us young children of immigrants, given that Italian cinema either makes us heroes or victimizes us. We yearn for normalization, to quote Cézanne, ‘we are the universal,’ and we live in a Naples that is finally new and, from our point of view, still completely undiscovered.”
This documentary is a testament to the vibrant, resilient spirit of Naples’ second-generation immigrants, offering a profound and necessary glimpse into their lives, dreams, and their invaluable contribution to the city’s evolving identity.
Source: https://napoli.corriere.it/notizie/cronaca/25_dicembre_12/napoli-multietnica-arriva-la-seconda-generazione-in-un-film-sogni-e-speranze-6ca4ed02-e06f-41fa-b126-c7acb82f6xlk.shtml
