As a young woman from Burkina Faso and a UX designer in training, I find myself constantly reflecting on how my cultural heritage intersects with my professional aspirations. Recently, I had the opportunity to attend a screening of Dahomey, a film by Mati Diop that captures the emotional and historical journey of 26 royal treasures returned to Benin from French museums. This experience was not just a film screening; it became a profound exploration of identity, history, and the role of storytelling in design.
A Cultural Awakening
Growing up in Burkina Faso, I’ve always been surrounded by the vibrant tapestry of African cultures and traditions. Yet, like many others, I am also aware of the scars left by colonialism—scars that have stolen pieces of our heritage and identity. Watching Dahomey brought those themes to life in ways I hadn’t experienced before.
The treasures in the film were more than artifacts; they were symbols of a people’s history and pride. Diop’s creative decision to give these objects a voice—allowing them to narrate their journey home—felt deeply symbolic. It was a reminder of how our stories, whether told through artifacts or digital interfaces, have the power to heal, educate, and inspire.
Lessons for a UX
As a designer, I was captivated by how Dahomey presented its narrative. The film didn’t just inform; it engaged and evoked emotions. This is something I strive for in my own work—creating user experiences that are not just functional but also meaningful and resonant.
The film used storytelling techniques that could easily translate to UX design:
- Empathy as a Foundation: The emotional depth of the film invited the audience to step into the shoes of those affected by the loss of cultural artifacts. Similarly, in UX, understanding the user’s emotional and practical needs is key to creating impactful solutions.
- Immersive Storytelling: The film’s ability to bring history to life through creative narratives can inspire designers to build immersive, narrative-driven digital experiences, especially for education or cultural preservation projects.
- Context Matters: Diop’s deliberate focus on the people of Benin, their struggles, and their triumphs reinforced the importance of context. In design, too, understanding the user’s environment and cultural background can make or break the success of a product.
A Personal Connection
The themes of the film resonated with me not only as a designer but as a Burkinabé. Burkina Faso, with its strong film heritage (home to the famous FESPACO festival), shares similar challenges and opportunities when it comes to reclaiming and celebrating its identity. Watching Dahomey felt like a call to action—to use my skills as a designer to bridge the gap between tradition and modernity, to preserve and promote our stories in innovative ways.
One of the most moving moments in the film was seeing how the people of Benin responded to the treasures’ return. It reminded me of the collective pride and healing that comes from reclaiming what was lost. It also made me think about how design can facilitate such moments—whether through digital archives, interactive storytelling platforms, or apps that bring cultural knowledge to younger generations.
Beyond the Film
Attending the screening also provided a chance to connect with others who share a passion for using media and technology for social change. I had conversations with filmmakers, historians, and technologists, each bringing a unique perspective on how to address issues of cultural restitution and identity.
This networking experience reminded me of the importance of stepping out of my comfort zone. Just like the treasures in the film, I realized that I, too, am on a journey—one that involves rediscovering my identity and finding ways to use design as a tool for change.
Reflections
Dahomey was more than a film for me; it was a mirror reflecting the possibilities of what we can achieve when we combine art, history, and technology. It showed me that design is not just about creating products—it’s about telling stories, fostering connections, and making the invisible visible.
As I move forward, I carry with me the lessons from this experience. I am inspired to explore how UX design can preserve and amplify African narratives, ensuring that our stories are told and our voices are heard. Just like the treasures in Dahomey, I believe we all have a role to play in reclaiming and redefining our identities—for ourselves and for future generations.
