Anticolonialism | "What I do must be bigger than me"

You work as a singer, educational consultant, anti-racism trainer, and curator. As a political activist, you organized demonstrations across the country after the murder of George Floyd in 2020, and you're also studying communication design. How do you juggle so many different activities?

Where do I get my strength from? First and foremost, I draw my strength from all the people around me who support me so much: first and foremost my mom, who is always open to my dreams and activities, and also my team, with whom I have been working for two years. And then at some point I learned: what I do has to be bigger than me. It is important to me to give other people opportunities and to open up networks. And of course, Congo is also important to me: I can't save the country, but I can't sit around and do nothing either. I have to use the privilege I have been given: in general, the opportunity to speak for people who are marginalized by the system.

What role does it play for you that you came to Germany from Congo at the age of eight?

I came to Germany through family reunification . It's shaped me. We're all shaped by our personal history: whether our parents have an education or not, whether they're rich or poor, what we're taught or not. The fact that we can lead such a good life in Germany is mostly only possible because other countries were colonized before us, because we continue to exploit them, or because we're simply ignorant of human rights—all of this plays a role.

Where do you find your identity?

I have a German passport, but I'm Congolese. I think I feel closer to Congolese history than to German history. This also means that what's happening in Africa also has something to do with me. At the same time, I feel that even if I didn't have this particular perspective on African culture and history, it would be made clear to me from the outside that I have to have this perspective: because I'm classified as an African woman, as a person who isn't part of German history, even though our histories are closely intertwined, precisely because of colonialism .

What is it like to live as an African-born woman in Germany?

The question is: Where do I feel seen and heard, and part of society? This is also, and especially, a structural question. At the end of the day, it all has something to do with access. Where do I get my resources – and where not? Before we achieve true structural equality, we could at least accept each other as equals. For example, if I live in a city like Munich, where finding an apartment is a disaster, I don't want my acceptance to be dependent on whether my name is Kharis Petronelle Ikoko or Thomas Müller.

Are the Congo and colonialism a topic in your workshops on anti-racism and critical whiteness?

Through my anti-racism and critical whiteness work, I want to build bridges and open up other perspectives. At the same time, I want to highlight how people are treated. I want to question the structures and privileges imposed on us and perhaps even create innovative ways of living together. Understanding each other is very important to me: We are, in truth, so closely connected that it's almost absurd that we allow ourselves to be driven apart by trivial things and are willing to so easily destroy our surroundings, our environment—and nature comes into play here, too.

Which brings us to the Congo .

There's a saying: "Where there's smoke, there's usually fire." In the case of the Democratic Republic of Congo, resources are the fire. Without them, we wouldn't be able to use cell phones or work on our laptops. Uranium, a key raw material for warfare, is of particular importance today. During the transatlantic colonial era, not only valuable raw materials such as rubber, ivory, copper, tin, zinc, gold, and diamonds were exploited from the Congo, but people were also enslaved.

The Congo is considered to be the most resource-rich country in the world and should therefore prosper .

The fact that the resources from the Congo are so important to us makes us ignore where they come from and how we exploit people for them. The problem is: If we were to realize all of this, we would have to forgo a great deal – and we would have to start treating each other equally as people around the world. And that's something most people don't want. Nobody likes to give up power voluntarily.

What role does music play in your work?

If there's one constant in my life, it's truly music. I can't remember a single day when music wasn't a part of everything I do: today, just as it was as a child in Congo. When I write my music, I'm usually completely alone with myself. Music is my healing and my way of communicating and building bridges. It's a language that brings everything and everyone together and connects them. When I address injustice with music, that's different than a speech at a demonstration.

As an artist you call yourself Kokonelle .

Kokonelle is a combination of "Koko" from Ikoko and "nelle" from Petronelle. This has a deeper meaning for me: I take the two syllables from my name and put them back together. This is also how I explain my life to myself: It has a lot to do with inner conflict. Over the years, I've learned what it meant to me to be torn from my surroundings, family, culture, and tradition at such a young age and to enter a world where there is sometimes little understanding for people like me. This is also reflected in my music: in its diversity and diversity.

What gives you hope?

The people who resist injustice and don't stop.