‘I have a voice, and it’s important to use it’: In conversation with Donya Speaks

POETiK P is the third full-length piece initiated by Donya Speaks together with female artists from Rwanda, the Democratic Republic of Congo and Switzerland. The durational group performance is a hymn to female sexual self-determination, which has been developed collectively through various research and work phases in Switzerland and Rwanda. POETiK P will premiere on 6 December 2024 at Dampfzentrale Bern.

For Donya, the theatre is a stage for initiating dialogue and questioning dominant beliefs. She is interested in processes that foster exchange and community, and her creations explore recurring themes of freedom of movement, subverting cultural stereotypes, the effect of language, and dealing with privilege. In this interview, Donya reflects on collaborating as a cross-cultural sisterhood, topics and insights that emerged through their activities in Kigali, and the entanglement of art and activism.

---

Let’s talk about sisterhood, sexualities, power, language and representation around gender… What is POETiK P about and what were the stimuli that inspired the project?

POETiK P is a project that opens up conversations about sexualities and aims to raise awareness about how drastically the Euro-patriarchal influence has shaped our language and concepts of sexuality. (The term “Euro-patriarchal” is introduced by Minna Salami, combining “Eurocentric” and “Patriarchal.”)

Already for quite some time I’ve been intrigued by the fact that there was no language for my own sexuality that felt comfortable for me to use. It was either overly infantilised, biological, or vulgar. This inspired me to explore a language that is poetic, fun, and self-defined. I felt an urge to share my questions with other artists and understand whether we shared similar concerns. In 2021, I had the opportunity to work in Rwanda and Congo as a performer and choreographer and I encountered inspiring female artists who were bold and active within the feminist movement. That is when the idea for POETiK P was sparked. I am convinced that a crucial part of feminist work is fostering sisterhood, embracing and accepting differences, learning from one another, and supporting each other.

For POETiK P, you’ve assembled an international and interdisciplinary team of collaborators. What are the advantages of working with such a varied collective, and what processes do you follow to establish mutual understandings between diverse individual experiences and cultural contexts?

It was crucial for me to bring together a team of artists from diverse backgrounds and practices. In this team, your own values, habits, and work attitudes are constantly challenged, and that’s the beauty of working on a transcultural and intercontinental project. We took time to map out how we wanted to work together. Collaboration made us more aware of both the similarities and differences in our feminist approaches. The questions we ask about sexual freedom are, on one hand, deeply personal and shaped by cultural, religious, and political contexts, yet at the same time, they’re universal. One major challenge in this project is both the transfer and translation of content. Not everyone in our team speaks English and nor does everyone speak French, so patience is required. This in itself is an interesting exercise.

What often came to light is that patriarchy has shaped most languages when it comes to sexuality, pleasure, and gender. It was interesting to note that languages like Kinyarwanda and Swahili don’t use a grammatical gender—in contrast to most Latin and Anglo languages. By understanding these different “pussibilities,” as we began to call them, you realise that concepts, and therefore beliefs and practices, can be reshaped and changed.

To truly understand each other and build trust, we needed to spend a lot of time together. We all experience sexuality differently—some are monogamous, some are polyamorous, some are gay, some are straight, some are fluid etc. What mattered was that we remained open and curious about each other’s preferences and experiences. That’s why the trip to Rwanda was essential.

The research trip in Kigali followed on from a first “exploriment” by the collective in Bern. In what ways was the creative process shaped and influenced by the very different social and cultural realities of Switzerland and Rwanda?

One line that Nina Balmer, a performer and rapper of our team, wrote was: “On a pas la même chance, mais on connaît la même chanson” (“We don’t have the same opportunities, but we know the same song”). We all understood what that meant: our globalised world connects us through shared references—music, fashion, beliefs—but we come from different life experiences and conditions.

In both Switzerland and Rwanda, we shared similar setups: we had a workspace, lived together, and held open workshops for interested participants. The phase in Switzerland was much more introspective; we focused inward on our creative process. In Rwanda, we interacted much more with the surrounding. We were there in July, attending performances and concerts, visiting cultural centers, and having many conversations. This made it even more clear that as artists, we have a responsibility toward the community—something I felt most artists in Rwanda and Congo are deeply aware of.

Working in both Switzerland and Rwanda also brought forward the experience of being the “othered” body. When it comes to the topic of sexuality, we personally felt what it means to be sexualized and exoticized. This led to important discussions about which bodies are linked to which expectations and stereotypes. We discussed how the film industry has crafted a “love choreography,” associating romantic relationships and safety with the white female body. Even small gestures, like running fingers through hair, are designed for straight hair, which excludes other hair types.

At the same time, we had to experience again, that racism and tokenism persist in Europe toward Black female bodies. One of our team members even shared that they stopped having sex with white people because of these experiences.

Please take us back to the workshop the POETiK P collective hosted in Kigali. How was this structured and what interesting topics, insights or experiences emerged through the process?

We envisioned the workshop as an open space where we could share our questions, rather than transmit knowledge. We combined moderated discussions, bodywork, and artistic expression. We also shared poems and songs and proposed exercises, for example to practicing consent. We wanted to spark conversations and we aimed to provoke artistic output. A key part of this was being clear in our propositions, while remaining transparent and allowing ourselves, as hosts, to be vulnerable too. The goal was that by the end of the workshop, each participant would write their own manifesto for sexual freedom and demands.

One fun moment happened on the second day during a question-answer game. One participant asked, “Do you want to have sex with a penis or a vulva today?” and everyone went to “with vulva”—we were all surprised and had a good laugh. Earlier in the same game, someone asked, “Would you rather marry or be forever on the streets?” For me and Nina, this sounded like a metaphor, but our colleagues explained that in Rwanda, the expectation to marry is intense and can put a lot of pressure on women.

We received very positive feedback from participants. One girl later wrote that she had finished her manifesto and found the process incredibly liberating. Many also mentioned how rare it was to find spaces for these kinds of conversations. There was even interest in organising similar gatherings regularly. Some participants outside Kigali insisted that we plan future workshops in rural areas as well.

Through the various work phases of this project, please share with us how the research strands will be interwoven with the artistic expression of the performance.

Our experiences in Switzerland (2023) and Rwanda (2024) brought our team closer together. We’re now much more open to sharing intimacy—whether through nudity or discussions about sex—both in our personal lives and professionally. We’ve also gained a deeper understanding of each performer’s potential and boundaries, which directly shapes our performance.

The research phase in Rwanda deepened our interest in the strip-club setting, which we chose for our performance. We noticed that the erotic fantasies are very different from those in Switzerland. Rwanda, with its sexual traditions that prioritise female pleasure, provided rich scenic inspiration. For instance, the “Holy Water” from the sexual practice of “Kunyaza” will be a key element in the performance.

In the first phase in Switzerland, we collected various names for “vulva” in different languages, and we’ll expand this with names for “Igituba” (Vagina) from Rwandan traditions. We use these names to critique the categorisation or absence of “pussy names” and to highlight the diversity that exists. Our goal is to create a performance that’s less about being informative and more about the exploration, the feeling, and the ongoing fight for sexual liberation.

In what ways does activism and artistic expression converge for you in your practice?

For me, activism begins when the topics you address go beyond the artistic work and have an impact outside the theatre and art spaces. As Aline from our team put it, “I will be a pioneer,” meaning she takes responsibility to inspire others. This is why we create workshop formats and invite others to engage with our questions.

To make informed life choices, financial independence is key. That’s why we prioritise collaborating with women-led businesses. For instance, Aline Amike works with a team of women in Rwanda who help her produce beaded artworks. The apartment we rented also supported a young mother in financing her studies. Another important point is creating healthy production conditions. We strive to build a work environment that reflects our needs and desires. For example, some members suffer from period pain, and we account for that in our schedule. Transparency is also important. The production budget is always accessible to every team member, ensuring everyone can see how finances are distributed if they wish.

As a young artist, what has been your experience of the Swiss performing arts scene? Are you part of a broader community of artists and organisations engaging with social and cultural topics like racism, sexism and decoloniality?

As a person with Swiss and Tunisian nationality, it’s important for me to acknowledge two things: my privilege and the inequality between the Global North and the Global South. Through my artistic practice, I aim to build bridges and foster solidarity. For example, by collaborating with artists from Rwanda, Congo, or Tunisia and inviting them to Switzerland, we confront visa issues and attempt to challenge geopolitical border-making. As a Swiss company, we use our privilege to make these issues heard and seen.

However, I believe that true decolonial practice cannot originate from the North; a Swiss-funded project will always have inherent North-South power dynamics. I see it as my responsibility to make these dynamics transparent and arguable. In my work, I strive to share responsibilities within the team and critically consider the audience and their “gaze.” Creating work for a predominantly Swiss audience requires different approaches than for a Rwandan audience, and we need to remain flexible as we attempt to address both.

In general, I find inspiration for my artistic work in socially and politically relevant topics. For instance, I organised talks and a lecture performance on anti-Muslim racism. I also believe in driving change within our sector. Alongside other artists, I created this year a format to discuss and document cases of censorship and tour cancellations related to artists’ support for a free Palestine. As mentioned above, my experiences in Rwanda and also the ones from Congo made it even more clear: as an artist, I have a voice, and it’s important to use it.