Sokomuhogo Street -- one of the longest thoroughfares in the city of Stone Town -- and one of the only streets that cuts through the entirety of Stone Town, is a street packed with history, commerce, culture, and contradiction. Its epicenter is the magnetic, politically charged "Jaws Corner," where men sip hot cups of strong coffee and 'piga story' on all things life & opposition politics. Sokomuhogo -- which means 'Cassava Market' -- begins at the base of Ngome Kongwe (Old Fort) near Gizenga Street and goes all the way to 'Majestic' -- the old and now defunct movie house in Vuga.
I've heard it explained that it's Cassava Market Street because years ago, the road led to the market set up by the Old Fort. Some say this street was strictly inhabited by Indian merchants dealing in bars of gold -- and if you look at the particular doors on this street, they are uniquely Indian in simple bolts as opposed to ornately carved wood. Today, it's a true mix of Indian and African, old and young, boutique shops, and coal supply stores, a fancy spa catering to tourists as well as collapsed buildings that could not withstand the wear and tear of time and neglect.
I lived on Sokomuhogo Street on two separate times in my life and throughout these periods, I came to love and greet my closest neighbors on a daily basis. I also walked up and down the entire length of this street countless times on my way to work at the State University of Zanzibar, located nearest to Majestic at the opposite end of the road. I never grew tired of looking up at the dizzying architecture, some buildings being three or four stories high and touching the clouds, and I never grew tired of the antics and stories, movement and sound of this captivating, long street.
When I lived on Sokomuhogo closer to Jaw's, I lived next to the illustrious Emerson, patron saint of the arts and culture, and often heard him blaring opera from his rooftop, or heard him grunting at the gym he'd made himself in his backyard, where other men would come to work out and tell stories. And when I lived closer to the Old Fort, next to the Coin Shop, and by the little tea shop, I'd hear my Indian neighbors wake for early morning prayers,that droned on until the sun came up and the Muslim call to prayer wove into theirs.
When I was recently back this February 2015, I decided to walk slowly from the beginning to the end of Sokomuhugo Street -- starting at the entrance by the Old Fort where Gizenga Street ends, and walking to its end point behind Majestic where it merges with Mkunazini Street -- photographed portraits of everyone along this road who showed me 'ukarimu' -- a deep and genuine kindness -- while I lived there. My neighbors became much like family, and when I requested their portrait, I was met with wide smiles from most, while others requested that I come back later when they'd be more refreshed, and I agreed.
There are so many stories behind these lives -- behind these doors -- up these winding stairs to the rooftops of our shared imaginations -- and they are stories I mean to return to and gather and share. I'd love to return with a team of storytellers who can help me record these stories, take better photographs documenting this extraordinary road, and all the people (and ghosts) who've lived and work here.
Once, while living on Sokomuhogo, I started having a nightmare about a man who kept appearing in my house, room after room, and wouldn't go away, even after I calmly told him to leave. One morning, my neighbor noticed that I looked tired and asked me what was wrong. I told her about this dream and she looked at me and said -- oh, that dream. That man. Yes, we all know about him on Sokomuhogo. He moves between our houses and takes turns sharing space in our dreams. Somehow, I was mildly relieved to hear that I was sharing this nightmare with my neighbors, like a cup of sugar.
Sokomuhogo Street itself is an extraordinary glimpse into the diversity of culture and history in this city. There are so many faces missing from this portrait -- the Indian family who runs the small shop at Jaw's, my favorite coffee seller at Jaw's, and the little old man at Jaw's who runs a tiny fruit and vegetable stall -- the man with the white beard -- oh, and one of my favorite bibi's from Tumbatu, she wasn't there either. And Mama Shemsa -- my favorite & most loving neighbor, whose bosom I cried into when I left Zanzibar the first time, she wasn't there either. She'd fallen sick and was staying with her sister on Gizenga Street.
I realized while starting this project that while I didn't know many by name after all these years, I knew them beyond their name, by feeling, and by titles as simple as "neighbor" and "grandmother" and "sister." For now, I'm posting these portraits as a gesture of love & memory, knowing that there are so many hours left on the baraza.
These are (just a few of the) people of Sokomuhogo Street, Mji Mkongwe, Zanzibar.
I've heard it explained that it's Cassava Market Street because years ago, the road led to the market set up by the Old Fort. Some say this street was strictly inhabited by Indian merchants dealing in bars of gold -- and if you look at the particular doors on this street, they are uniquely Indian in simple bolts as opposed to ornately carved wood. Today, it's a true mix of Indian and African, old and young, boutique shops, and coal supply stores, a fancy spa catering to tourists as well as collapsed buildings that could not withstand the wear and tear of time and neglect.
I lived on Sokomuhogo Street on two separate times in my life and throughout these periods, I came to love and greet my closest neighbors on a daily basis. I also walked up and down the entire length of this street countless times on my way to work at the State University of Zanzibar, located nearest to Majestic at the opposite end of the road. I never grew tired of looking up at the dizzying architecture, some buildings being three or four stories high and touching the clouds, and I never grew tired of the antics and stories, movement and sound of this captivating, long street.
When I lived on Sokomuhogo closer to Jaw's, I lived next to the illustrious Emerson, patron saint of the arts and culture, and often heard him blaring opera from his rooftop, or heard him grunting at the gym he'd made himself in his backyard, where other men would come to work out and tell stories. And when I lived closer to the Old Fort, next to the Coin Shop, and by the little tea shop, I'd hear my Indian neighbors wake for early morning prayers,that droned on until the sun came up and the Muslim call to prayer wove into theirs.
When I was recently back this February 2015, I decided to walk slowly from the beginning to the end of Sokomuhugo Street -- starting at the entrance by the Old Fort where Gizenga Street ends, and walking to its end point behind Majestic where it merges with Mkunazini Street -- photographed portraits of everyone along this road who showed me 'ukarimu' -- a deep and genuine kindness -- while I lived there. My neighbors became much like family, and when I requested their portrait, I was met with wide smiles from most, while others requested that I come back later when they'd be more refreshed, and I agreed.
There are so many stories behind these lives -- behind these doors -- up these winding stairs to the rooftops of our shared imaginations -- and they are stories I mean to return to and gather and share. I'd love to return with a team of storytellers who can help me record these stories, take better photographs documenting this extraordinary road, and all the people (and ghosts) who've lived and work here.
Once, while living on Sokomuhogo, I started having a nightmare about a man who kept appearing in my house, room after room, and wouldn't go away, even after I calmly told him to leave. One morning, my neighbor noticed that I looked tired and asked me what was wrong. I told her about this dream and she looked at me and said -- oh, that dream. That man. Yes, we all know about him on Sokomuhogo. He moves between our houses and takes turns sharing space in our dreams. Somehow, I was mildly relieved to hear that I was sharing this nightmare with my neighbors, like a cup of sugar.
Sokomuhogo Street itself is an extraordinary glimpse into the diversity of culture and history in this city. There are so many faces missing from this portrait -- the Indian family who runs the small shop at Jaw's, my favorite coffee seller at Jaw's, and the little old man at Jaw's who runs a tiny fruit and vegetable stall -- the man with the white beard -- oh, and one of my favorite bibi's from Tumbatu, she wasn't there either. And Mama Shemsa -- my favorite & most loving neighbor, whose bosom I cried into when I left Zanzibar the first time, she wasn't there either. She'd fallen sick and was staying with her sister on Gizenga Street.
I realized while starting this project that while I didn't know many by name after all these years, I knew them beyond their name, by feeling, and by titles as simple as "neighbor" and "grandmother" and "sister." For now, I'm posting these portraits as a gesture of love & memory, knowing that there are so many hours left on the baraza.
These are (just a few of the) people of Sokomuhogo Street, Mji Mkongwe, Zanzibar.
The view from Sokomuhogo Street starting out with my back toward the Old Fort, right where Gizenga Street ends.
Juma Mohammed, age 22, runs the first shop to the left as you're heading down Sokomuhgo Street.
Khatibu, runs the first little "Swahili Bites" shop to your right coming from Old Fort -- delicious cold juices, chai, chips, fried fish, eggs, mandazi, you name it, it's there.
Ali, age 22, works with Khatibu at the little restaurant -- I always saw him frying chips when I walked out my door in the morning.
Shema, age 30, is mama of two. She's amazing & loving -- I always go to her for belly beads (shangaa). She had a stroke less than a year ago but is now fully recovered.
Shamata's Shop -- always came here for eggs, cooking oil, and onions. The shop smells of musty potatoes and garlic. The men who work at the shop are all from Pemba. In the evenings, many neighbors gather around the shop on the baraza and talk in the dark.
Omar (L) and Saidi (R) are brothers (25 and 27) and in the middle, there's Fundi Juma -- always on hand to help with electrical problems. Omar and Saidi run this second-hand shop -- shoes, books, dresses, bags.
Mohammed, my tried and true neighbor -- and real artist. He repairs antique Zanzibari furniture, his speciality is clocks. We've sat many hours on the baraza, chatting and talking, mostly about E-bay, tourism, culture, architecture, and his family.
Siti Hamis (L) and Mtumwa (R) were my closest neighbors. Almost every night they're on the baraza making chapati, kachori, (fried potato balls), and bajia (kind of like falafel). Neither warmed up to me right away -- but over time, we became friends, and I think it was my serenading of Taarab songs that might have broken the barrier. I love these ladies. They are hard-working, advise me ghosts & fevers, and showed love to this stranger on their street.
Fatma at Mrembo Spa, one of the most beautiful spas in Stone Town, opened right up on Sokomuhogo street. They make their own incense, soaps, and scrubs. Really special space.
Mjeshi, my kind, kind neighbor. When I go back, I want to learn more about him. We'd greet each other daily. In this portrait he's wearing Western clothes -- I usually see him in a worn kanzu and kofia.
Sikida, my very lively neighbor who loves juicy gossip!
Mbalozi! (The Ambassador). When I stilled smoked, I used to come to this shop for cigarettes. He's open the latest on the entire Sokomuhogo Street, as far as I know.
Zeinab, age 4, hangs out a lot at Mbolzi's shop b/c her mama (pictured below) works at the antique shop next door. She really loved getting her picture taken -- kept asking me for more and more, tena, tena!
Jamila stands in the doorway of Tamim Antique Shop -- she's deaf but reads lips and is also an amazing henna / piko artist. I sat in this shop many hours talking with her, Isdi, and Ipti (two sisters who run the shop as part of their family business. Their family also hosted many of my students when I was still working at the university).
These ladies! Ipithar and Isdihar -- have spent many hours talking with them outside their incredible shop of treasures from Yemen, India, and Africa. They're always up for stories on love, relationships, culture, and Sokomuhogo gossip.
Mariya, my beautiful neighbor, whose children both just got married! We always meant to have a lunch date but Mariya recently got a job so we had to postpone it. She's one of the warmest people I know and we always stopped to chat.
Jaw's Corner Cat. Jaw's Corner Blue Door. Iconic.
Jaw's Corner -- the shark used to be horizontal, this is a recently updated version.
Soko Ya M'hogo -- Cassava Market Street Sign.
A collapsed building right before you reach Jaw's Corner on your right hand side, coming from Old Fort.
Not easy. This family sells coal in small buckets.
Ramesh and his wife have run a laundry on Sokomuhogo for over twenty years. Their children live in the U.K. and U.S.A. They traveled for the first time in years to visit them. They told me the revolution hadn't been kind to them but they kept their children in doors and never let them out of their sight until they got the best education and were able to study abroad. They were so happy when I talked with them -- both had dreams of living in the USA near their new grandchildren.
The famous Shree Ramji Laundry sign.
Brother Kimji runs this humble laundry shop with his brother, where they iron clothes with an old fashion iron heated by coals / steam, and hang their laundry across the street to dry. I always passed them and admired their carefully tended to bird cage full of hummingbirds, I believe. We said hi to each other nearly every day for almost three years.
Bibi! She stayed indoors mostly to care for her ailing husband, but her grandchildren were always playing at the very end of Sokomuhogo Street where it meets Mkunazini / Majestic, and we sat down several times to chat on the baraza as well.
The boy in the Nirvana shirt asked me if I prayed, if i believed in god. The little girl in green asked me if my red ring was magic. I remember these three well, not by name, but by energy and spirit -- I always saw them at the very end of Sokomuhogo Street in the early morning, before they went to school, totally immersed in children's play. Love them!
