In DR Congo’s Capital, Homeless Teens Pin Future On Rap

The ambitious 19-year-old “Business” (a loose translation of his French street name) is one of dozens of homeless youth who have taken refuge in Lap.

Their haven is Mokiri Na Poche, a small cultural center in the working-class district of Bandarungwa, which is home to Kinshasa street children and teens (aid groups estimate more than 20,000). It has become a scarce lifeline for the abandoned population.

Known locally as “shegu”, many are driven to the streets due to extreme poverty or suspected witchcraft by their families.

Their lives are often marked by deep suspicions from wider Congolese society, along with violence, drugs and prostitution.

However, Mokiri Na Poche, which opened in November last year, encourages neglected and unschooled homeless youth to engage in creative activities, such as making bags from plastic they pick up and making music. It is intended to encourage

“Business,” whose real name is Junior Mayamba Gashue, like the other members, is keen to seize every opportunity that is offered.

Another homeless man, Chadrak Madh, a local term for Kinshasa’s notorious machete-wielding gang, said he came to the center to “not be a khulna tomorrow.”

The Democratic Republic of the Congo is one of the world’s poorest countries despite its vast mineral resources. About two-thirds of the 100 million people live on less than $2.15 a day, according to the World Bank.

A newly built recording studio caters to the needs of music-minded young people visiting Mokiri Na Poche. “Business” and his friends are regulars.

“I’m trapped, I’m trapped,” the young man raps into the microphone in Lingala, rhyming how he left conflict-torn eastern Congo and ended up in the sleazy alleyways of Kinshasa. Stepping.

The barefoot 16-year-old, known as “Bloodbank,” hit the rhythm with a discarded plastic bottle and beatboxed with his prickly lips to match the song.

Business magazine later explained that his dream was to follow in the footsteps of Congolese music greats like Fari Ipupa and drive a luxury car to visit the United States.

Life on the streets was tough, he said, explaining that while some of the homeless youths were supportive, others tried to undermine him. “There really are witches among us,” said Business.

But he didn’t give up. “Music was with me from the time I was in my mother’s womb.”

Congo has a rich musical tradition, and some groups, such as Staff Benda Birili, made up of disabled people, have risen to international prominence from the streets of Kinshasa.

Some of the young Mokiri na Poche have already recorded albums with adult musicians, although they were not paid.

Cedric Chimbaranga, director of Mokiri na Poche, described how violence and despair ruled the lives of young people on the streets of Kinshasa.

“They all have knives and pocket knives to protect themselves,” he said. “I have children who go days without eating.”

In the courtyard outside the cultural center’s small recording studio, several young people with scars were resting quietly in the shade.

Few people knew their real ages, but they ranged from seven or eight years old to young adults in their late teens.

Chimbaranga said the music they produce is often uptempo and aggressive, but not violent.

“They want to rebel against the way society treats them,” he says.

Chimbaranga said the center has started producing an album of rap songs.

“Bloodbank,” whose real name is Obed, said the music gave him the motivation to “keep going.”

He said he had been on the streets for as long as he could remember.

When asked about his life, he improvised raps in Lingala about having friends when you have money, but being completely alone when you’re broke.

eml/ri