Everyone should feel entitled to occupy space in the club scene. After all, music and dance are often transformative and freeing mediums of self-expression and community. But unfortunately, heteronormativity and white male hegemony rule the clubbing space in the Western world. And in Africa, the heterosexual male gaze pervades nightlife. The added legacy of colonial-era laws and traditional beliefs in sub-Saharan Africa further complicates the navigation of clubs and bars for women and queer people.
With these factors in mind, AMAKA looks at two queer, feminist African DJs who, in their respective ways, challenge the heteronormative and male-dominant electronic dance music (EDM) scene. In doing so, they facilitate opportunities for women and other marginalised Africans to take up space in the club scene.
Toya Delazy
Latoya Buthelezi, known musically as Toya Delazy, is a pianist, artist, poet and dancer from KwaZulu-Natal, South Africa. Delazy traces her heritage back to Zulu royalty, with her great–great–great–grandfather, King Cetswhayo, orchestrating one of Britain's most crushing military defeats during the attempted colonisation of the Zulu people. Also running through her blood is musical talent, with her great-grandmother, Princess Magogo, being "the first indigenous female rapper who broke gender roles by being a [Z]ulu praise singer, a role which was solely reserved for men", according to Delazy. In keeping with her forebears, Delazy has been unafraid to challenge contrived boundaries, as she did when choosing to wear a traditionally male Zulu outfit to her grandfather's birthday celebration.
Moreover, Delazy is one of a few openly lesbian African musicians. Unapologetic about her sexuality, she uses music to undermine harmful views. For instance, her video for the song "Forbidden Fruit", released in 2014, took aim at the wave of anti-gay laws in Africa. Featuring kissing scenes from lesbian, gay and heterosexual couples, it depicted the validity of love in all forms, in turn, making light of homophobic notions. "What should I do / Cut in two / Love forbidden fruit", sings the chorus against an uptempo electric melody. The music video bagged her an OUTMUSIC Award (run by the New York-based LGBTQ Academy of Recording Arts) for Best International Song for its celebration of love across the spectrum.
Meet Wastewomxn: The Queer, Feminist, Genre and Gender-Defying Band of Tomorrow
Since moving to London in 2017, Delazy has remained vocal, whether it's illuminating the importance of teaching Black culture and history or petitioning government officials to protect “female-empowering” LGBT venues in London like Muse Soho. The need for such spaces proves global, illustrated by the prevalence of corrective rape in Delazy’s native South Africa, along with a femicide rate five times the global average.
Delazy also uses the medium she knows best to speak out against this oppression of women that starts from girlhood. After becoming a UNICEF Ambassador in 2017, she and UNICEF co-produced a soulful single, "Khula Khula", to encourage pride and perseverance among African girls. "We wanted to highlight the silent and not-so-silent ways in which our girls experience exclusion and oppression", Delazy explained to African Eye Report.
Creating safe spaces is essential to ensuring the well-being of diverse clubgoers. Dedicated spaces present an opportunity to centre the experiences of marginalised sexualities and identities. So artists and collectives working to create safe spaces which prioritise marginalised identities are integral in making sure everybody's free to feel good and enjoy the euphoric experiences nightlife can bring.
DJ Kampire
Kampire Bahana, better known as DJ Kampire, is a Kampala-based DJ running workshops and events for women and queer people in the Ugandan entertainment scene. She's also part of Femme Electronic, a platform highlighting East African female DJs to counteract the otherwise male-governed industry.
DJ Kampire's mixes feature sounds from all over the continent, such as Congolese soukous, South African gqom and Angolan kuduro. In 2018, she was listed as one of Mixmag's Top Ten Breakthrough DJs; and in 2019, one of her mixes featured on Pitchfork and Fact Magazine's end of year lists.
Kampire grew up in Zambia before moving to Kampala, Uganda as an adult. She began her deejaying career after being asked to help organise the first Nyege Nyege festival. Nyege Nyege is a collective and recording label that started in 2013 as an LGBTQ+ friendly music space in Uganda. In Uganda's primary language of Luganda, Nyege Nyege means "a sudden and uncontrollable desire to move, shake or dance". The Nyege Nyege collective fights for the civil liberties of gender and sexual minorities, using music to promote inclusivity and the variety of sounds on the continent.
No Fronting, Just Feels: AMAKA Talks Love, Honesty, and Pretence with No Fronting Collective
Kampire's work is ever more critical in Uganda, given its increasingly conservative landscape. For example, on 24 February 2014, the Anti-Homosexuality Act was signed into law, making same-sex acts punishable by death (though this act was, fortunately, ruled invalid by the Constitutional Court of Uganda on 1 August 2014). Also, during this same period, a "mini-skirt ban" was imposed under the Anti-Pornography Act, prohibiting "indecent dressing" — defined as women wearing "anything above the knee", according to former Ethics and Integrity Minister Simon Lokodo. Unfortunately, both moves by the government saw a spike in abuse faced by the LGBTQ+ community and women, respectively.
Kampire is keen to challenge the status quo, demanding accountability and the elimination of sexual harassment via events like "Pussy Party", a club night with all-female DJs and staff. In Uganda, half of women and girls report having experienced sexual or physical intimate partner violence in their lifetime and 30% in the past 12 months, according to 2018 data from the Uganda Bureau of Statistics, so designated spaces are necessary and welcomed.
Ensuring that these "safe spaces" remain harm-free is complex and ongoing. Speaking to Loud and Quiet in 2019, Kampire notes that care and diligence are crucial when organising parties for women and queer folk; this, she explains, can manifest in making sure events are advertised to draw the right attendees without inadvertently inviting unwanted attention from the wrong crowd. She continues, stating that said conscientiousness might also require a password from attendees: "So you might have an intimate house party where you have to be on the guestlist to come and there's a password and you have to know what the party is there for."
Kampire is also aware of the importance of African agency in the music scene. Unfortunately, it often takes white DJs showcasing African music for it to command attention. Talking to Dazed Digital in 2019, she expressed a desire to see more Africans speak for themselves in dance and music culture: "In five years, I would love to see many more African acts and artists getting booked." She adds, "I hope that this attention opens the door for a lot of artists, rather than being a flash-in-the-pan thing where it's trendy for a little bit and people say it's the next big thing – and then it's over. Hopefully this is not a case of that, and people are paying more attention to African music, and wanting to engage equitably rather than exoticising it."