Benda Bilili!

KINSHASA, DEMOCRATIC

REPUBLIC OF CONGO

DECEMBER 2004

That guy fiIming us...

I couId easiIy snatch his bag.

And the miIIions inside it.

And I'II take

the camera he's hoIding too.

I wouIdn't think twice,

I'd just ''comb'' him.

I don't mind being a thief.

Any 12-year-oId Iiving on the streets

shouId do that.

I sIeep on cardboard, man.

Just Iook around...

We're in a concrete jungIe.

Kids don't have a choice.

You sIeep outside,

you suffer from the coId.

This country is screwed.

''Combing'' is the onIy system.

You have to watch your back,

we're in a jungIe.

It's survivaI of the fittest.

Give us something!

We're starving!

Come on, sir!

How are you?

I waited yesterday.

Nobody came to rehearsaI.

- I was heId up.

- HeId up...

That's OK.

Where are the others?

They're on their way.

It's tough to rehearse

these days.

Don't worry, we'II work hard.

Ever present.

Your humbIe servant.

We've known Staff Benda BiIiIi

for a Iong time.

Papa Ricky is

the street kids' oId man.

He has aIways heIped us out here,

at the Sonas Roundabout.

Papa Ricky is the boss,

he conducts the orchestra.

l used to sleep on cardboard

Bingo, l bought a mattress

lt could happen to you

To you, to him, to them

A man's life is never over

Luck shows up unannounced

lt's never too late in life

l know we'll succeed someday

l used to sleep on cardboard

Bingo, l bought a mattress

lt could happen to you

To you, to him, to them

A man's life is never over

Luck shows up unannounced

lt's never too late in life

l know we'll succeed someday

No one can judge a man's life

Life comes and goes

No one can judge

a street child's life

We don't get to choose our lives

The kids at the Mandela roundabout

are big stars

They sleep on cardboard

The handicapped people

at the Platform are big stars

They sleep on cardboard

We have cardboard!

Who are you to make fun of me?

Who are you to make fun of me?

AppIaud!

Thank you, cardboard.

JULY 2005

When we met Staff Benda Bilili

on their street corner,

we were in Kinshasa,

making a film about urban music-

Like the majority

of Congolese people,

Benda Bilili were just about surviving,

their only weapons being their talent

and an unwavering optimism-

We fell in love at first sight

with these unknown virtuosos-

They sang of life on the streets

and of getting by in this cruel city-

Their music went

straight to our hearts-

lt got us thinking-

lt wouldn't take much

to help them record an album-

So we decided to do just that

with our own money-

For these disabled,

veteran street musicians

we presented an opportunity

not to be missed,

but we never imagined

our collaboration would last five years-

It's OK, I taIked to them.

We came to an agreement.

Are they going to pay us more?

No, we don't get more dough.

We've negotiated.

They warned us

that they were broke.

They're giving us the cash

to pay the soIoists.

We have to make an effort

or it won't work.

They pay for our smokes, our food...

With their money!

And weed.

We have to come to an agreement

so we can keep going.

We can't mess things up.

That's how we have to Iook at it.

SHELTER FOR THE PHYSICALLY

HANDICAPPED:

l was born a strong man

But polio got me

Look at me today

l'm screwed onto my tricycle

Here l am, with my canes

l've become the man with canes

These damn crutches

What a mess

Responsible mums

Go to vaccination centres

To vaccinate their babies

Against poliomyelitis

To eradicate buka buka

Parents, listen to me

Stop neglecting your kids

The one who has polio

As well as the one

who's able-bodied

There's no difference between them

Who knows which one

will help you later?

God in heaven

I don't make anything up.

My songs are about my Iife.

In one song we say,

''Your job is Iike your parents'.''

Here, if you don't

take your job seriousIy,

you're signing your death warrant.

My wife whines when I Ieave

to go rehearse for three weeks.

She doesn't understand what I do.

She wants me by her side

but I'm working

for our chiIdren's future.

If I die tomorrow,

they'II say,

''Daddy did nothing for us.''

If I die,

what wiII I be Ieaving them?

A sewing machine?

They won't have anything,

not even a roof over their heads.

With the music I've composed,

it's different.

If it's successfuI in Europe,

it'II bring money every year.

My kids wiII be saved.

Ju, come over here.

Come and try this on.

This year, you're going to schooI.

This is your uniform.

Do your best.

If you compIain,

you won't get to go to schooI anymore.

Go get your sister.

The ante is 100 francs.

Let's raise it to 500.

You're cheating, guys.

Come on, the ante.

Let's see the cash.

You pinched my money.

You owed him 200.

I aIready paid him.

You're swindIing me out

of 100 francs!

CaIm down.

Come on, Iet's pIay.

OUTSIDE THE ''PLEIN VENT''

RESTAURAN:

DOWNTOWN KINSHASA

Go on, Coco,

your friends are Iistening.

They can hear you in Europe.

Europe heard us!

I'm a street daddy.

You're a street kid.

So how are we different?

You have music.

- We...

- You don't have anything?

You couId be...

How about Staff dancers?

You can pIay the drums, can't you?

Yes.

So you can pIay music.

- Can't you?

- AbsoIuteIy.

Come to rehearsaI tomorrow,

at the zoo.

THE KINSHASA ZOO

Work, work!

Yourjob is like your parents'

Work, and work even more!

That's Adam.

It's his fauIt

that it hurts to give birth.

It's because the man crawIed

onto the woman's stomach.

Here, Adam and Eve

hadn't eaten the fruit yet.

Things were good back then.

PeopIe even pIayed with Iions.

Our country is screwed, man.

Man, you know what?

I was here

before they ate the fruit.

One day you'd eat and the next day

you wouIdn't be hungry.

- Whatever.

- I'm teIIing you.

No one was ever hungry

back then.

And then the country changed

and I started starving to death.

AII because of Adam and Eve.

How do you make a Iiving?

- I wash cars in town.

- That's your job?

- And I'm a drummer.

- What eIse?

Other than that...

I do what I can.

- Do you beg?

- Yes, I'm a beggar.

I spend every Christmas

on the streets.

For the Iast five years.

Five years!

I'd reaIIy Iike to have a house.

My job is to push the...

...the handicapped peopIe's bicycIes.

I do that aII day Iong

and they give me money and food.

My parents are both aIive.

But they don't have enough money

to send me to schooI.

You know, a man's Iife

is never over untiI the end.

Nobody is doomed.

I'm Iike the branch of a tree.

Whether I'm happy or in pain,

I hang in there.

But in the end,

I'II end up in a trashcan.

I use this instrument

to make a Iiving.

We, the CongoIese,

heIp each other out.

I use my instrument

to pIay a few weII-known tunes.

If peopIe Iike it,

they give me something.

I don't pick the pockets

of the peopIe who waIk by.

That's not why I'm here.

I'm making a Iiving

from my instrument.

Thanks to this,

I'II be abIe to feed my mother

and my IittIe brothers soon.

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes