This post is also available in: Kreyol
To be honest with you, I really think that if it wasn’t for Haiti, I wouldn’t be an artist.
BélO
In 2021, Haiti experienced a series of traumatic events including the assassination of the President Jovenel Moïse, another devastating earthquake of 7.1 magnitude, and the arrival of 15,000 Haitian asylum seekers at the Del Rio, Texas border.
In the midst of recurring trauma, there is a need for Haitians to recalibrate to have deeper conversations about healing. Jean Belony “BélO” Murat is a socially conscious Haitian artist and musical ambassador who uses his distinctive traditional sound to share messages of collective healing and community building.
In this interview, BélO discusses his view of “chèche lavi lòt bò dlo” (looking for a better life abroad) through his work. As a Haitian ambassador, BélO’s objective is to use his music to share Haitian experiences, traditions and culture at home and abroad.
Be sure to check out his latest project, a recreation of his very first album “Lakou Trankil” — which came out 18 years ago now — reimagined with the help of female artists the likes of Wiliadel Denervil, Queen Bee, and Sherlee Skai, who reinterpreted the tracks on the original album to make a compilation of covers called “Fanm Lakou Trankil“.
He spoke to Ashley E. Lazarre, PhD Candidate of Global Inclusion and Social Development at the University of Massachusetts Boston.
Song: Intro Kote Moun Yo by BélO
AEL: In a previous interview, you mentioned that your inspiration always comes from Haiti. Your album “Natif Natal” (of native origin) personifies Haiti as your native roots. Even when you explore other genres, such as Afrobeats with Adekunle Gold or Electronic Music with Michael Brun (which can be considered outside of your norm), no matter what beat you are on when I hear your voice I know this is BélO. Why is it important to you that your inspiration comes from Haiti?
JBM: To be honest with you, I really think that if it wasn’t for Haiti, I wouldn’t be an artist. To me, it is very important for Haiti to be at the center of my music —it is not even a choice— that’s the way it is meant to be.
I did not plan for it to be this way but my mission is to take a socially-conscious approach to my work because Haiti has very specific needs.
It’s been over 200 years since we’ve been fighting a difficult battle dating back to our independence, including addressing environmental problems and political disasters.
Even if everyone is partying, I have to go to sleep so that I can dream and receive the remedy for the sickness in my country — “Si m pa dòmi mwen p ap fè rèv la” (If I don’t sleep, I won’t have the dream).
The privilege that usually comes with being an artist such as having big cars and luxury, none of that is fit for me.
AEL: In music you talk about an overemphasis on Haiti’s trauma by mainstream media, which can also be reproduced in academia. You challenge these narratives by singing about the importance of HIV screenings, knowing your roots, preserving your culture, farming, and mental health. Why is healing a critical message in your music?
JBM: Because there is a need for healing. The media looks for news that the world is more interested in – that is their role. But what is our role as Haitian people?
If people are trying to demonize you, do you try to put yourself in a better position every day?
I think this is where we should focus our efforts. I also have to be realistic about the current state of our country, but are there a lot of Haitians who focus on promoting good things about our country? Are we proud enough about our Vodou? Do we let people know what it is? Or do we just let Hollywood show one side of it?
That’s why when I am touring, I always wear something Haitian. I always put our traditions to the forefront so that everyone knows that this is traditional Haitian wear, it is from Vodou, it is from Haiti. I want to show the sides of Haiti that people have never seen before.
We also need more people to bring value to our language. There are many people who have told me that I would be further along in my career as a musician if I sang in languages other than Kreyòl. I always respond by saying “I have gotten quite far using my language”.
If more Haitians created more things in Kreyòl perhaps it would have been a more popular language than it is now. We should not adapt to everything being in English and follow suit because we miss out on our culture and identity.
“Nou se Wozo, nou pliye nou paka kase”.
Song: Wozo by BélO
AEL: “Wozo” is my favorite song. It inspired me in times where I didn’t really see the light in my work, where it was going or what I wanted to do. The song reminded me of why I am here, specifically that I am Haitian and that there is a deeper sense of resilience in me. I often use “Wozo” as a concept in my research when talking about Haitians and who we are as a people. You released this song after the 2010 earthquake as a reminder to Haitians to uplift themselves. Can you talk about the roots of the Kreyòl term “wozo“?
JBM: “Wozo” means bamboo tree. A bamboo tree is a plant that you can bend, but it is really hard to break it.
The day after the earthquake in 2010, I was in Guadeloupe when I received the news that “there are no more Haitians left in Haiti”. That’s the way the news was presented to me.
They said it was over for Haiti and that there was no one left standing in the country. I was shocked but I thought “these images and videos are coming from Haiti, so there is at least one Haitian alive.” And knowing my people, if there is at least one man and one woman in Haiti, that’s enough for us to come back to life.
I said to myself “nou se Wozo, nou pliye nou paka kase” (we are wozo, we bend but we cannot break).
Song: Istwa Dwòl by BélO
AEL: Let’s talk about the concept of “chache lavi lòt bò dlo” (looking for a better life abroad). I think this resonates for me personally, as I have had to step back from going to Haiti frequently due to recent social issues. There is a distance that’s been created between me and home, where I had to find home wherever I am. How do you think the experience of “cheche lavi lòt bò dlo” relates to a search for healing?
JBM: “Al chèche lavi” does not mean going to look for a plate of food. From a Haitian context, a peasant who sends their children to the city to get a better education is looking to “chèche lavi” (look for a better life) for their children. They are aware of the limitations and obstacles that come with being illiterate, so their goal is to provide more for their children.
Haitians fight to give their children a better life so that they don’t have to go through the same obstacles as they have. This also applies to middle class Haitians. Parents send their kids abroad to look for a better life not because they need better food and housing but because there is a bigger vision to fund their future to become doctors, athletes, engineers, or artists.
They go to the U.S. because that is where they can get a better education with resources to learn. “Al chèche lavi” for me means being proactive about looking for a better future.
AEL: In the video “Istwa Dwòl”, there is a scene of 5 men taking a small boat to leave the country while their families worry about their whereabouts and the potential risks along the journey. This video which was shot more than 15 years ago foreshadows the actual scenes we saw involving the 15,000 Haitian asylum seekers who walked from South America to the Del Rio, Texas border. Why did you choose to show scenes of Haitians escaping home in the video?
JBM: I chose to show these visuals because as the saying goes, “a picture is worth a thousand words”. It was important for me to show Haitians that there are some problems that we cannot control but that there are things within our reach. We should focus our energy on the circumstances that we can control.
The song itself sheds light on the fact that if peasants are leaving, artists are leaving, and doctors are leaving, it is because there is a central problem in our country.
Who will they kidnap when everyone leaves? Or will we rethink our stance to convince each other to stop the self-inflicted violence so we can all be home together again.
With solidarity we can resist being brainwashed and save our country. We know that we are “Wozo” (resilient) and we can get back up, but it is much harder to get back up by yourself than if someone gives you a hand.
Haitians can’t consider each other to be a problem because there are many other external factors that we have to deal with.
Haiti is our mother and no matter where we are in the world, we will never be considered Haiti’s stepchild.
Song: Pitit Deyò by BélO
AEL: In the song, you also elaborate on the relationship of the diaspora with Haiti. What does it mean to be a “pitit deyò”?
JBM: I named the song “Pitit Deyò” (stepchild) because in literal terms when a father births a child outside of wedlock we call this child the “stepchild”. But when a mother births a child outside of her marriage, that kid remains her biological child no matter what. Every mother’s child is considered biological.
In that sense, Haiti is our mother and no matter where we are in the world, we will never be considered Haiti’s stepchild.
With that, the song speaks to improving our relationship with the diaspora. I felt this fear coming from them so that’s why I wrote the song.
We cannot just expect the diaspora to send us money via Western Union and nice sneakers every month. We need a relationship that is more inclusive.
AEL: Anthropologist Gina A. Ulysse, speaks about the need for “rasanblaj” – “the need for deeper, thoughtful, and self-reflective conversations among Haitians”. She notes that “living in fragmentation has been our way” and she urges Haitians to take pause to recalibrate. How do you recalibrate in times of crisis, personally and as an artist?
JBM: I would say personally it is a hard thing to do. For the past two years, I’ve been more active on social media, not just to share my art but to share a little message of hope because I know when you are in crisis it is hard to think outside of the box. But as an artist, sometimes I travel or my soul leaves my body and goes to get inspiration elsewhere, not just for me, but to share with other people because to me that’s what an artist is.
AEL: A great note to end our conversation on. Thank you so much for sharing your thoughts on “chèche lavi lòt bò dlo“.
Feature Photo Credit: BélO
