We came from Sudan and I was about 5 years old
and you were only one.
We all came as refugees.
My dad got a bible scholarship here in New Zealand
and it was pretty - I mean for me I was a kid so you know,
there wasn't too much I noticed
other than the fact that there weren't that many people
that looked like back at home.
What our parents have been through for
us to just even be here is, like it's insane.
So for me it's even like constantly remembering that privilege
of the fact that I'm growing up here,
you know, like you are here.
We're in New Zealand, we're so blessed.
My mum's a healthcare assistant
in the birthing ward at Auckland Hospital
and my Dad works for Red Cross Refugee Services so
both my parents are like, real compassionate
helpful, loving people
and I think that that's really had an influence
on the kind of people that we are as well.
We both speak our language fluently.
We know a lot about our culture and that's
because of my dad,
he intentionally wanted to instill that in us
and one thing he'd say about us from when we were young is like
you know, you might have the accent, you might talk like them,
you might speak like them, but someone's always going to
ask you "Where are you from?"
So you have to be able to have an answer for that
and if you go back home
you have to be able to like, talk to your people
and you know, get along with them.
I didn't know I was Black until I was called a n****
As a kid it didn't hurt
it was just confusion you know,
it was just like "Wait, what?"
"What do you mean?"
and then so as a child you sort of experience that
and then you hear it happen again and again.
I think the earliest memory of that word being said
was Year 7 or 8, and I always felt uncomfortable about it.
As Africans here, when we first,
there is no template.
There is no identity of how to be an African Kiwi.
Yeah. There was nothing.
So you're visible in the sense that when you occupy spaces
that are predominantly white or whatever
you stand out so people do, like, notice you
and that could result in many different things
like discrimination.
Even just looks or sly comments,
microaggressions, casual racism.
There's nothing really casual about racism
but that's what we've called it.
And so you're visible in that sense
but you're invisible in the sense that there's no representation
on every possible level,
like in statistics there's a category called MELAA
and that's Middle Eastern, Latin American, African.
They've just lumped everyone all together.
So even in like data, there's no accurate data
that's reflective of our communities
and our needs and our experiences.
I don't remember exactly what day the
news broke about George Floyd
but before that it was Ahmaud Arbery
[PROTEST CHANTING] Breonna was asleep
And then George Floyd happened
and I know that I can speak for everyone when I say
it was a really dark time because you had all these feelings
of like ,you know, grief
and seeing your people being treated that way.
People that look like you
people that look like your family.
Over time as well there's lots of backlog...
It always happens.
We see these every other week
and there was a sense of helplessness
and sense of like, survivor's guilt as well.
Like I'm so far away from all of that that's happening in America.
The chances of that ever happening to me here are very slim
but those feelings are still very valid and so I think
it was this build up of emotions.
So I called her,
I was like "We need to do this"
So I made the little flyer,
posted it and then it literally just
took on a life of its own on social media.
The way we envisioned it was our close circle of friends.
That flyer got shared by some of the biggest names in New Zealand.
I've never.. My instagram was broken.
Literally could not do anything on it
because of the notifications and everything
and then later that night we met at Mez's house.
So it was myself, Mez, Hugh,
also known as Mazbou Q, so his artist name.
Shalane, Elyssia and Shelly.
And Yordanos.
Racism looks like pumping guns and drugs into the Black community
then declaring a so-called war on drugs.
Racism looks like tearing Black communities apart
and harshly sentencing Black men and women
for drug charges that white people get a slap on the wrist for.
Racism looks like the issue of mass incarceration
that predominantly affects Black and brown communities.
A prison system that is a relic of slavery.
Racism looks like a 12 year old Black boy
being shot and killed for holding a toy gun
because a cop feared for his life.
But hundreds of gun-wielding white people
protesting a right to get their haircuts under lockdown
get to go home to their families that night?
[CHANTING] No justice, no peace.
Screaming and shouting and losing my voice,
I literally had like a whisper for the next few days,
was just the most like, therapeutic thing.
If we didn't even do anything productive that day
if that was all that happened, I'm happy with that
because it was like a release of all these built up emotions.
[This is the power of the people]
[This is what it means when we stand up together]
[and say "Nah bro"]
Vent. Just release. Yeah. Be accepted.
Just to hear that many people scream out you matter
was super dope.
[CHANTING]
[No longer will we sit silently]
[This is the voice of Aotearoa]
[This is the voice of real Kiwi's]
[This is the voice of New Zealand]
[No justice]
[No peace]
[No justice]
[No peace]
This whole BLM movement has just opened the door
for some very necessary conversations
about humanity.
Like, what have we done wrong
since the beginning of time till now,
cool, how can we stop that from happening again.
It's changed my life
and I know it's changed the course
of Africans in New Zealand
and it's brought about some very necessary
but uncomfortable conversations that
we've just been avoiding for so long.
The reason why the BLM movement is necessary
or should be cared about in New Zealand
is because the same issues that affect Black people in America
effects Māori and Pacific Island communities here.
The entire criminal justice incarceral system
disproportionately imprisons Māori and Pacific Islanders
at way higher rates than anyone else.
So like, there's still such a long way to go,
there's still so much more advocating.
On top of that, there are a lot of Black people here in New Zealand
and a lot of people have missed that point.
That was the biggest takeaway from the protest,
for the first time ever I felt like my community had me.
Like New Zealand had me.
Looking into the crowd, yes there was Africans
but there was an entire crowd of all these different races
screaming Black Lives Matter.
And that feeling,
it shouldn't have to take this to get that feeling.
Do you know what I mean? Like that sense of belonging.
Something that warms my heart so much is that all the little
cousins, my little sister, my little brother.
I don't like using this word but there's this different energy in the air
when it comes to Black people.
It's like everyone's walking around with their head held high,
there's a sense of confidence.
I think in 10 years if we can have, like, 15 year old leaders
you know, within our communities that are all woke
and like with it and caring about each other.
I'm telling you man that's the filter process.
It's going to be super cool.
I look forward to that.
My hope for New Zealand is where we reach a place
where we honour tangata whenua and their sovereignty.
So if that initial wrong is made right
then it'll have a ripple effect.
And that would mean for Black lives,
Pacific lives, for Asian, Middle Eastern,
for LGBTQ, for Muslims,
for you know whatever the case may be.
If I don't see change in my time, I'm cool with that,
as long as the next generation
aren't having to fight these same fights
by the time they're our age you know.