Your Gateway to DR Congo’s Creators.

Kinshasa, 1960 to 1989. Two names split the night: Franco Luambo Makiadi and Tabu Ley Rochereau. One pulled dancers into cathedrals of rhythm. The other lifted them on shining melody. Crowds chose TPOK Jazz or Afrisa International and learned to hear mbwakela, the sly art of the veiled jab. “Faux Millionnaire” teased. “Chicotte” snapped back. “Course au pouvoir” escalated. “Mino Ya Luambo Diamant” turned swagger into myth. The studio became a battleground where the sebene stretched time and the drum kit sharpened the pulse. Censors listened for clues. Dancers kept score. This was more than competition. It was a debate… Read more

History remembers the moment the titans clashed, but it forgets how two warriors were transformed into those titans. That story was written during the five-week delay that stranded them in Kinshasa. The city itself was a crucible, forging each man into his mythic role. One became a titan by dissolving into the world around him, drawing strength from its soil and people. The other was hammered into an opposing titan by his solitude, his power hardening in the silence, fueled by alienation and a longing for home. And that is how myths are forged. In the unseen struggles. Long before… Read more

Once upon a time, a Belgian king returned a sacred Congolese mask to its homeland. The cameras rolled, the speeches flowed, and everyone pretended not to notice the punchline: the mask was only on loan. Belgium still owns it. This is the fairy tale Europe tells itself about colonial restitution. A bedtime story where thieves become guardians, where “indefinite loan” means justice, where museums with millions of stolen objects celebrate returning one. During the same visit, the King even promised to return Lumumba’s tooth. They’d dissolved the rest of him in acid but kept the tooth for sixty years. Another… Read more