The French parliament has unanimously passed a law to return the Djidji Ayôkwé, a sacred talking drum stolen by colonial forces from Côte d’Ivoire in 1916.
Once used by the Ebrié people in the coastal south of the country to summon gatherings, announce royal messages and anchor community identity, the large wooden carved drum will soon be back home. There it will not just be a relic, but a vessel of collective memory and dignity.
I’m a teacher of peace and conflict studies whose research often focuses on the role of museums and art exhibitions in helping bring unity. As a participant and project manager in Kenya’s 2013 Journeys of Peace exhibition, I analysed how the cultural artefacts on the exhibition could bridge divides and foster reconciliation in communities.
In Côte d’Ivoire, a nation scarred by civil wars, the Djidji Ayôkwé can become a powerful symbol of peace, helping heal ethnic and political wounds. By applying lessons from Kenya’s exhibition, I argue that this drum’s return could transform a moment of restitution into a movement for reconciliation.
Cultural heritage, rooted in the past, wields profound power in the present to shape a shared future.
Journeys of Peace
Journeys of Peace was organised by Kenya’s Community Peace Museums Heritage Foundation and the Swedish non-governmental organisation Cultural Heritage Without Borders. In the course of touring with the exhibition, I witnessed the power of cultural artefacts – stools, gourds, fly whisks, women’s belts – to mend fractured communities.
These traditional objects were deliberately chosen for their cultural significance and their ability to resonate with local communities. They were traditional everyday items imbued with symbolic meaning, representing shared heritage and identity. Their role lay in their ability to prompt dialogue and reconciliation. In the course of a year, the travelling exhibition reached over 4,000 people in rural Kenya, turning the objects into tools for community dialogue.
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In Pokot in western Kenya, where there has been frequent conflict over the theft of cattle, I witnessed elders use artefacts like those featured in the exhibition to hold peace vigils, reconciling two warring communities, Pokot and Tugen, divided by cattle rustling.
In Samburu, a community in the North Rift region that has a history of inter-ethnic conflicts between pastoralist communities competing for grazing land, warriors traded guns for walking staffs. They embraced peace through their heritage. These moments showed me that cultural objects are not relics but living anchors for identity and healing.
So, we didn’t just display artefacts; we let them live. Communities touched them, shared their stories, and used them to confront painful issues – ethnic violence, land disputes, even female genital mutilation.
In Machakos, a region in the eastern part of Kenya, a student’s words struck me:
I never knew we shared so much with our neighbours. This has rekindled my faith in humanity.
The artefacts sparked empathy and trust, leading to tangible outcomes: returned livestock, reopened markets, and partnerships with local governments.
The Djidji Ayôkwé and civil war
The Djidji Ayôkwé holds similar promise for Côte d’Ivoire, a nation still healing from two devastating civil wars.
The first, from 2002 to 2007, pitted northern rebels against southern government forces. It was fuelled by ethnic and regional tensions. The second, from 2010 to 2011, erupted after a disputed election, leaving over 3,000 dead and deepening divides among ethnic groups like the Ebrié, Baoulé and Dioula.
The drum, a sacred voice for the Ebrié, was silenced during colonial theft, mirroring the silencing of communities during these conflicts. Its return offers a chance to restore that voice, fostering unity and reconciliation as we saw in the Kenyan exhibition.
The drum, once a unifying force for Ebrié gatherings, can symbolise peace. A community-led welcoming ceremony, co-created by Ebrié elders, young people, artists and historians, could mark its return with rituals, music and storytelling, echoing its role as a communal voice.
Dialogues about its significance, its songs, silences and stories could help bridge ethnic divides, inviting groups like the Baoulé and Dioula to share in the healing process. Exhibitions like Journeys of Peace could bring the drum to conflict-affected regions, integrating oral histories and performances to make it a living emblem of peace. These spaces could address lingering tensions from the civil wars, such as land disputes or mistrust between communities.
Inclusivity, a cornerstone of Journeys of Peace, is vital for Côte d’Ivoire. Women, often cultural custodians, and young people, who grew up in war’s aftermath, must be central to such efforts.
By weaving the drum into education programmes, peacebuilding workshops or cultural festivals, Côte d’Ivoire can empower these groups to rebuild a shared national identity. As we learned in Kenya, when communities engage with their heritage – touching, listening, contributing – their sense of agency grows, fostering reconciliation across divides.
Repatriation for healing and empowerment
The Djidji Ayôkwé’s return is part of a broader movement to right colonial wrongs around looted artefacts, from Nigeria’s Benin Bronzes to Ethiopia’s royal treasures.
Journeys of Peace taught me that repatriation is about more than returning objects. It’s about restoring their power to transform lives.
Read more: ‘Restitution’ of looted African art just continues colonial policies – much more is at stake
Participating in the exhibition showed me that cultural heritage is a force for the present, not just a memory of the past. In Kenya, we learned that when artefacts are given voice, they do more than recall who we were. They show us who we can be.
