Reclaiming the story of Bradford's 1904 Somali village exhibition
In summer 1904, millions of people descended on Bradford for arguably the biggest festival it has ever seen.Along with typical fairground fun and examples of the city's industrial might, Bradford Great Exhibition's biggest draw was also its most bizarre - a living and breathing Somali village.
More than 120 years on, a team of historians are piecing together the stories of those who lived within the walled compound and helping the UK Somali community reclaim the narrative.Reportedly attracting about 350,000 paid visitors in total, the exhibit transplanted about 100 Somali men, women and children from the Horn of Africa and put them on public display in Lister Park for six months. "It has resonance as a story of colonised and racialised people who still gazed back and resisted in their own way and had fascinating lives," says Prof Fozia Bora, from the University of Leeds. "We are really keen to share the story with Bradfordians and the country at large."
"Even though the Somali community has existed in different parts of the UK for over 150 years, nobody knew anything about the Somali village in Bradford," says Zainab Nur, chair of the recently founded Somali Village charity."That's why it needs to be told and shared."Together with an online history project, Ms Nur is attempting to reframe the event - "not as a footnote of imperial display, but as a significant episode in the longer history of Somali migration, cultural expression and resistance".Ms Nur, who was born to Somali parents and whose forefathers came to the UK during the industrial revolution, says learning about the exhibit raised several key questions."I was like, what is this? Are they being exhibited? Were they forced? Was it similar to human zoos?"The collaborative project and associated charity were officially launched at a recent event at Cartwright Hall, near where the village was located.
The project also aims to trace people who may be descendants of the original village residents, as little is known about what happened to them after the exhibition packed up and left.Records reveal the group lived in self-built huts and gave daily demonstrations including dancing, spear throwing and archery. Villagers also displayed their weaving and blacksmithing skills, selling their wares to visitors.One official report at the time said "they maintained their attractive character throughout, and under the trying conditions of the Yorkshire climate behaved in a most creditable manner".Prof Bora, an associate professor of Islamic history, says the team is determined to "reverse the gaze of looking at the other as exotic, strange, weird, even inferior"."That is the range of lenses through which the Somalis would have been viewed, as well as fascination and admiration," she says. "The project tries to really look at the experience from the Somali point of view."
Community historian Yahya Birt says the episode challenges some misconceptions about Bradford's multicultural identity.Discussing his own involvement, he says: "It began with a simple question - who were Bradford's first Muslims?"We found out that this community wasn't from South Asia but actually from the Horn of Africa."The team acknowledges it is a delicate story to tell, especially through a 21st Century lens and contemporary discourse around migration and decolonisation.But they believe the retelling is vital and will have particular resonance during Bradford's UK City of Culture year."There are many aspects of this story that are definitely uncomfortable," adds Mr Birt. "The best history happens when you're made to feel uncomfortable because it makes you question your own assumptions."
Listen to highlights from West Yorkshire on BBC Sounds, catch up with the latest episode of Look North.
Hashtags
Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles
The Sun
33 minutes ago
- The Sun
Coronation Street star reveals she's found love with Doctor Who star as they go Instagram official
CORONATION Street actress Kimberly Hart-Simpson has revealed she has found love with Doctor Who star Nathan McMullen. The new couple have gone Instagram official with their romance, after posting a series of loved-up snaps from a romantic trip to Blackpool. 5 5 5 The soap star, who is best known for playing Nikki Wheatley on Corrie, recently teased that she had finally found love but didn't reveal who her mystery man was. But now, the actress, 38, has confirmed she is dating Nathan, 37. Doctor Who fans will recognise him from playing Wolf the Elf in the festive edition of the sci-fi show in 2014. He also played Finn in Misfits, and Angelo in Shameless. Revealing their romance, Celebs Go Dating star Kimberly took to Instagram to make things official. She shared a slew of sweet snaps from a trip to Blackpool with her new man. Captioning the post, the actress joked: 'When choosing a partner it helps that they are the same size clothing/footsize cus not only do you get a new bestie… "But a new wardrobe too.' She then added: 'Anyways thoroughly enjoying seeing the world (Blackpool) with you @nathanmcmullen88.' Kimberly's friends and followers were quick to congratulate her on her new relationship. Coronation Street star Kimberly Hart-Simpson poses with rarely-seen mum in hot tub on holiday at £300 a NIGHT retreat - and there's a secret VIP service The pair are thought to have been introduced by Kimberley's best friend and former Hollyoaks actress Jessica Ellis. Jessica, who played Tegan Lomax on the Channel 4 soap, confirmed how she played matchmaker between the pair, and commented, 'Just call me Cilla.' underneath her pal's post. Corrie fans know Kimberly for playing the role of sex worker Nicky. Her character arrived on the famous cobbles in 2020, and she struck up a surprising friendship with Dan Osborne, after he enlisted her services following the death of his wife Sinead Tinker. As well as playing Nicky in Corrie on and off since 2020, Kimberly also starred alongside EastEnders star Danielle Harold for Celebrity Hunted earlier this year. Away from TV, Kimberly runs her own fashion business, Hart-Work. When she left Corrie in 2022, before returning last year, she set up the reupholstering company. 5
Telegraph
33 minutes ago
- Telegraph
As a fan of The Who, this wretched ‘mod ballet' makes me want to weep
'Where's Matthew Bourne when you need him most?' This sad thought kept ricocheting around my mind on Tuesday evening as this slick, well-meaning, wretchedly anodyne dance-theatre version of The Who's marvellous 1973 album – which became an even more marvellous film in 1979 – played out. The mod-ish moves, the hormone-driven mayhem, the fabled mid-Sixties setting – oh, to think what fun he and his designer Lez Brotherston could have had with it all. For all its grandiosity, that 1973 'rock opera' is packed full of cracking music, and it was put to perfect use in Franc Roddam's work-of-art movie, a confection that positively bubbled over with teenage swagger, insecurity and take-no-prisoners tribalism – as well as sex, drugs and (yep) rock'n'roll. Do watch it if you can; there's nothing quite like it. The fundamental problem with this new 'mod ballet', though, is that all the sharp or exciting edges of the album's narrative – so cleverly exploited and amped up on the big screen – have been either completely filed off or at least sanded down to an unthreatening shine. The album's story is essentially there: Jimmy (the lithe Paris Fitzpatrick), a young mod living in 1965 London, wars with his parents, fights rockers in Brighton, tries to keep up with his pals and win the heart of Mod Girl (Leslie Ash in the film, and here by Serena McCall), all the while looking up to the ultra-cool, Sting-like Ace Face (athletic Dan Baines). But excitement is absent and the fundamental elements don't add up. The entire thing is swamped by almost invariably syrupy, bombastic orchestral arrangements of The Who album by Martin Batchelar and Rachel Fuller (aka Mrs Townshend) that are both typical of the problem and a fatal part of it. One terrific bar scene aside, director Rob Ashford – who has done high-octane work in the past with megastars from Diana Ross to Prince – seldom seems to get fully under the skin of the mod-ish dance moves of the era, and tends to resort to a one-size-fits all contemporary vocabulary that very rarely surprises. Sometimes, it even stumbles into unintentional comedy, especially with the strange, soaring lifts in what is supposed to be a brutal seaside clash. (The same, sad to say, is true of the will-this-never-end climax.) Even the usually exhilarating Royal Ballet principal Matthew Ball, cameoing as Jimmy's rock-star hero, blamelessly comes across as bland. As for Christoper Oram's sets and uber-designer Paul Smith's costumes, these, too, seem to fall oddly in and out of the era. Some of the outfits, and one or two of the less video-dominated sets, fit the bill crisply, but there's an overwhelming sense of lip service being paid to the 1965 setting, without ever making you feel as if you're there. So much, then, for the rock'n'roll – what about the sex and drugs? Jimmy's frustration comes across loud and clear, and the masturbation scene is present and correct, but without packing any sort of illicit, desperate or tragic punch. As for the uppers, there is, to be fair, a character actually called 'Drugs' (played by the aptly seductive Amaris Gilles), decked out in azure to, I'm assuming, reflect that Jimmy's amphetamine of choice is the so-called 'blue'. At one point, he even takes to the air like The Snowman as a high hits him. But again, there is no real menace; no thrill of the forbidden or sense of a downward spiral. The conceptual oddness of Drugs is continued in the quartet of characters who intermittently accompany Jimmy, depending on the situation – one, I gather, for each of The Who's four members. There's the Tough Guy (Roger Daltrey), the Lunatic (Keith Moon), the Romantic (Townshend) and the Hypocrite (purely, I must stress, by process of elimination, John Entwistle). But these amount to nothing more than dramaturgical affectation, watering down Jimmy's sense of gnawing isolation and leaving you scratching your head because it is never clear which one is which; you just wish they'd scarper. What is so particularly sad about this show – endorsed by Townshend, conceived with love, and with all performers doing their level best – is the disappointment that lies in wait not for people who already know the music and the film, but for those who don't. The uninitiated could well come away from this wondering what the big fuss is, not only about Quadrophenia but about one of the most skin-prickling rock bands of all time – and it makes me want to weep.
The Guardian
an hour ago
- The Guardian
‘We thought hippies would throw mud at us': Billy Bragg, Kate Nash and other stars on their Glastonbury debuts
You can tell it's 1984 by my shirt. I'd just played the Jobs for a Change festival, in the middle of London, easy to get to by tube. But Glastonbury was like being on an island. You had to deal with the weather, the food and the toilets. It was also mainly populated by Bristolians. I performed once solo, but also got up on the Pyramid stage with [country and western singer] Hank Wangford to do (Get Your Kicks On) Route 66. The original Pyramid was made from corrugated iron and doubled as a cowshed. I remember it being swampy backstage. There were no bars, you had to bring in your own beer. Keith Allen and [Scottish poet] Jock Scott blagged their way in, pretending to be a Belgian film crew, and sold cans of Red Stripe for 50p. Glastonbury's still an island. You can't just walk down to the tube station and grab a Greggs The thing I look most forward to is the Crumble Shack [food stall], which you can see when you're performing on the Left Field stage, and for a man of my age, is very distracting. Instead of the great issues of the day to speak about, all I'm thinking is: 'Shall I have ice-cream or custard with my rhubarb crumble?' Norman Cook The first time I played Glastonbury was with the Housemartins. We'd never played to a crowd that large before, let alone played during daylight. We also thought it would be full of bearded hippies who'd throw mud and piss at us. Instead, the sun shone, we made lots of new friends, and I fell in love with the festival. I still have a bootleg of the performance. You can hear the nerves and excitement in our voices: we're generally in tune, but we play everything way too fast. The crowd seemed to grow organically: people wanted to see for themselves what four spotty boys from Hull had to say about the state of the nation. It took me 38 years and 98 DJ sets to get back on the Pyramid stage. Last year I joined [former Housemartins bandmate] Paul Heaton to reprise Happy Hour and celebrate our good fortune to still be allowed to play at the best festival in the world. Rick McMurray (drummer) Our singer Tim [Wheeler] had finished school days earlier. Kung Fu had topped the indie chart and nearly cracked the Top 40, but Glastonbury was the first time we felt its impact live. It was also the first time we played Girl from Mars. That Glastonbury performance helped launch it skywards, into the charts, and into a wild few years that took us from indie clubs to something close to Beatlemania in Japan. Our Glastonbury set was the moment we stopped being a part-time school band and became a full-time touring machine. Two years later, we were back, headlining the Other stage on Friday. Then came a knock on the bus: Emily Eavis asking us to step in as Sunday headliner on the Pyramid stage. Just like that, we'd headlined both stages in one year. It was mind-blowing. You can even spot my future wife in the crowd during Kung Fu in 95. It's our 10th anniversary this year – I need to dash to the petrol station for some flowers! Rick Witter We've only played Glastonbury once – 30 years ago, in 1995, the year it was boiling hot. Oasis were there and Robbie Williams in his red Adidas tracky top and peroxide blond hair. I don't remember watching any of the bands. I think I got caught in the fact that we were playing Glastonbury. It's hard not feel like a small cog in this huge music event, but the crowd were amazing. It's funny when you write a set of songs and then you start getting noticed: loads of things just suddenly fall into place, like getting booked to play Glastonbury. It was a bit like the first time we were played on the radio; we pulled the car over to the side of the motorway to listen to ourselves. Glastonbury was like that. It's not often you get to appreciate those moments as perhaps you should. We can't wait to go back! Jake Shears I remember how excited we were. We didn't have a notion of how large it was going to be. I remember our drum tech, Nigel – this amazing soul – giving us a pep talk, saying: 'This is yours for the taking.' It rained during our afternoon show, but we still had a blast. Our second show in the Dance tent is still one of my favourite sets ever. It was truly electric. There was something magical in the air. It felt as if the whole world had spun around. Then our debut album went to No 1. Really magical things happen at Glastonbury. The madness and magnitude still blows my mind to this very day. Babydaddy It was a moment of synergy. It felt like the stars were aligning. We played twice on the Saturday: the Pyramid stage mid-afternoon, and the Dance tent early evening. I think we realised for the first time that this was going to be something that, as New Yorkers, we were going to be accepted for. I also remember the mud. I wore wellies for the first time, trying keep our stage clothes intact and look as glamorous as we possibly could. Glastonbury isn't just a music festival. It's a party, an art installation, a cultural touchstone, a spiritual destination. It remains one of the most special memories in our career. I was in awe of Glastonbury because I'd never been before. We set up our tents and stayed the whole weekend. It was a muddy year: I remember buying a red poncho, and I did an interview with NME wearing a bright yellow American Apparel hoodie. I remember seeing Lily Cole at a coffee stand and thinking she was so beautiful, and admiring Lovefoxxx from CSS's sequined bodysuit. I also got 'married' to my best friend when Iggy Pop played I Wanne Be Your Dog. I stole a chicken ornament with Emmy the Great, which I ended up gifting to Amy Winehouse on Jack White's tour bus. Playing Merry Happy on the Park stage, as I sang the lyrics 'I can watch a sunset on my own', the sun came out and it felt magical. Rebecca Lucy Taylor The first time I performed as Self Esteem was on the BBC Introducing Stage in 2019. But I'd performed with my previous duo Slow Club in 2009, 10 years earlier. We played the Guardian lounge, so we did our little trick of leaving the stage and coming into the middle of the room, because the tent was quite big and there weren't very many people. I remember thinking: 'I wish we were playing on a bigger stage,' and felt really jealous of everyone that got to. It was also around the time of swine flu, so I spent most of that Glastonbury very poorly in a tent, while everyone else had fun. I'm looking forward to going back this year and making some new memories. Harley Sylvester We were playing a secret set, so we weren't allowed to announce it until a few hours before. It was a super-fun set, and the crowd was packed. After that, it all gets a little bit blurry. I remember we had some TV interviews to do. Our TV rep – who still to this day is one of my favourite people – said: 'All right boys, you've got an interview in four hours. I want you to come back nice and calm and relaxed.' You can't say that to two 21-year-old boys who are experiencing Glastonbury for the first time. The interview we did isn't fun to watch. Well, it's hilarious to watch if you're not me or Jordan. But we were young and at Glastonbury, so we were going to take advantage. We're super gassed to be playing again, and even better that we are properly on the bill this time. Jordan Stephens I was not sober. I vaguely remember watching Primal Scream and the Rolling Stones. I then spent three days in the late-night area, Shangri-La. I'm not sure if I slept. I was in this whirlwind vortex of drum'n'bass and deep house. I spent a whole morning at the Stone Circle feeling spiritually uplifted by the coming together of wonderful people and the rising of the sun. I felt so at one with nature, I refused to sleep in a tent, but ended up getting a rash over the whole of my body and then couldn't leave my house for a week. Georgia Ellery: It was the first time I'd been to Glastonbury. I was lucky enough to be playing twice, on Saturday with Jockstrap and on Sunday with Black Country, New Road. So technically my first performance was with Jockstrap! I was very nervous, knowing everyone at home would be watching on telly and some of the songs would live on YouTube forever. I'd sprained my ankle the night before, so I had to ice my foot before we went on. We walked on stage to the theme tune to Succession. I also remember how hot it was – luckily I was wearing my gold hot pants and top. I came off stage thinking we'd butchered it and it had gone terribly. But all our friends and family ensured us that the vibes in the crowd had been great. I wanted to celebrate, but I couldn't exactly have the biggest night in the world because I had another show to play the next day.
