Research/Cultural

International Inventories Programme (2018-2021)

Tracking and documenting Kenyan cultural objects in global institutions

The International Inventories Programme (IIP) began with a deceptively simple question posed to the National Museums of Kenya by AFRICOM (now AFRIMUHERE): "Do you know which of your objects are missing, and where they are?" This query sparked an ambitious partnership between the National Museums of Kenya, the Nest Collective, SHIFT (a coalition of European artists and researchers), the Rautenstrauch-Joest-Museum in Cologne, and the Weltkulturen Museum in Frankfurt with the support of the Goethe-Institut in Kenya to track and document Kenyan cultural objects held in institutions across the Global North.

This project evolved into a multiple-year journey that challenged not just institutional narratives about cultural heritage, but my own understanding of global power dynamics and the (im)possibility of true reconciliation and justice.
The scope of our work expanded significantly following French President Emmanuel Macron's groundbreaking 2017 commitment to address the issue of African cultural heritage, and the subsequent 2018 Sarr-Savoy report that called for the complete restitution of African artifacts taken without consent during the colonial period. The report's revelation that 90-95% of Africa's cultural heritage is held outside the continent created international headlines, yet by 2025, only a handful of objects have actually been returned - the 26 artifacts France returned to Benin, a single saber to Senegal, and a few scattered restitutions from other European institutions.

Even these limited returns have been fraught with problems: France's insistence on framing returns as "acts of friendship rather than repentance," Belgium's return of Patrice Lumumba's tooth without full acknowledgment of their role in his assassination, and France's controversial return of misidentified skulls to Algeria that undermined the symbolic significance of the gesture. These patterns of grand promises followed by minimal or problematic action added momentum to our investigations while simultaneously confirming our skepticism about institutional promises.

Building the Database (2018-2019)

Our initial task seemed straightforward: create a comprehensive database of Kenyan cultural objects held in Western institutions. The team reached out to museums across Europe and the Americas, and as data streamed in, I took on the role of database administrator and helped compile records from 30 institutions spanning Germany, the United Kingdom, Sweden, France, the United States, Italy, and Belgium, ultimately documenting over 32,000 objects. What emerged from this data told a larger story about institutional power and colonial legacy.

The process revealed striking variations in how different European nations approached the project. German institutions were relatively transparent, giving us access to their collections, while British institutions—particularly the British Museum which, despite acquiring much of its Kenyan collection during its 70-year colonial occupation of Kenya (1895-1963) and maintaining extensive holdings from this period, maintained a notably arms-length relationship, requiring manual data collection from us rather than direct cooperation.
The collated data also exposed concerning patterns, errors and misattribution. Modern museum records, for instance, still used derogatory colonial terms like "Kavirondo" to categorize objects from Luo and Luhya communities. Visits to some museums revealed even darker institutional histories—of objects never photographed or catalogued properly because they weren't as important as the fancier collections from Egypt and other sexier regions of Africa. Of objects contaminated with toxic preservatives—including arsenic, mercury, and other hazardous substances—used in museum conservation practices as late as the 1980s, creating additional complications for any potential returns.

These occurrences were a stark indication of the implausibility of Western museums' claims of superior custodianship, highlighting a deeper failure to engage with the living cultures these objects came from.

Also telling was what the data didn't show. The complete absence of monetary values in these records—while museums maintain careful insurance and auction valuations elsewhere—highlighted a strategic opacity around the economic worth of these collections. Some institutions were overly cautious in citing GDPR privacy regulations as preventing them from sharing information about collectors and donors—an unintended consequence of modern European privacy law that inadvertently obscures colonial-era provenance. This selective transparency seemed designed to create bureaucratic obstacles to the process.

Pandemic Revelations + Exhibition Outcomes (2020-2021)

As COVID-19 swept the globe, our project confronted new challenges. Yet the pandemic cast our work in a stark new light, exposing persistent global inequities. The emergence of vaccine apartheid—where African nations waited months or years for vaccines that Western countries hoarded—paralleled the very power dynamics we were studying in cultural restitution.

This inequity was apparent in our culminating exhibitions across Nairobi, Cologne, and Frankfurt. While European venues could freely share and display the relevant Kenyan objects in their collections between their institutions, the Nairobi exhibition had to grapple with their physical absence—empty glass cases for objects that couldn’t come home. In Nairobi, where these missing artifacts' absence is felt most keenly, visitors engaged deeply with this loss and displacement—the emotional resonance was palpable.

This disparity in emotional and institutional engagement—between those who lost these objects and those who keep them—crystallized something I'd been observing throughout the project: a fundamental asymmetry in how the Global North and South approach historical justice.

Beyond Documentation: Personal Evolution

The project profoundly shaped my understanding of cross-cultural dialogue and reconciliation. I witnessed how the Global North often approaches historical injustices with detached logic, while the Global South grapples with deep emotional and cultural wounds. This emotional disparity helps explain the often cynical nature of restitution efforts—permanent loans instead of returns, partial acknowledgments instead of full accountability, more energy spent on symposiums, talks and reports than real efforts towards restorative justice and object movement.

My TED talk "Why are stolen African artefacts still in Western museums?" emerged from this evolving perspective. The experience of speaking publicly about these issues helped me find ways to channel frustration into advocacy, though the underlying asymmetries remain.
Legacy + Reflection

The International Inventories Programme achieved its technical goals—documenting tens of thousands of displaced cultural objects and making this information accessible to the National Museums of Kenya. But its deeper legacy lies in exposing the limits of institutional solutions to colonial and neo-colonial injustices. True reconciliation requires more than databases and exhibitions; it demands an honest reckoning with both the material and emotional debts of colonialism.

The project revealed how restitution debates often serve as diplomatic theatre, allowing Western institutions to appear progressive while maintaining fundamental power imbalances. Until we address the emotional disparity between those who hold these objects and those who lost them, initiatives like IIP can document injustice but cannot heal it.

This understanding—of how colonial patterns persist in seemingly progressive initiatives—has deeply influenced my subsequent work and thinking about cultural justice. The lesson isn't to abandon hope for restitution, but to recognize that true cultural healing requires more than institutional solutions. It requires a fundamental shift in how we value not just cultural objects, but the living cultures they came from.

I remain deeply grateful to my colleagues on the IIP team for embarking on this profound journey of discovery with me. But my greatest thanks go to the Kenyan and African publics who engaged with our work along the way. While Western institutions responded primarily with bureaucratic obstacles and diplomatic maneuvering, I witnessed first-hand the passion, insight, and unwavering commitment from my fellow Africans with regard to this emotive subject. Their eagerness to learn, to share their own histories and encounters with these issues, and their persistent desire to see justice done gave me hope. Even as institutions drag their feet, our communities remain resolute in their pursuit of genuine reconciliation and cultural healing.