I feel like I've been caught out. How can it be that I don't know the answer to the question that Kodjo Valentin Gläser is asking us? 'ai,ai,ai.... makes me a little uncomfortable', I think to myself. I would claim that I know a lot about colonial history; in my arrogance, with my recently completed master's degree in intercultural studies, I would even have claimed to be some kind of expert in the field. "I'll give you a moment, maybe you can think of something," says Kodjo Valentin Gläser, the speaker of the lecture. But the room remains silent. No one knows the man whose face is projected large on the screen. And that's exactly what Gläser is getting at: that none of the people in the audience, people who grew up and socialized in Germany, went to school and learned about history there, that none of these people know the name that Gläser is about to reveal: it's Songea Mbano. That's when the penny drops for me. I know what it's all about, whose face is looking at us, distorted in pain, 2×3 meters in size in the hall of the Jenfeld Cultural Centre. I feel fine, because I'm actually quite clever after all. But could I now exactly say exactly who this person is? Why he is so central to Gläser's lecture on "Tanzania and the resistance... - a question of perspective." is? And above all: what does this have to do with postcolonial thinking?  

Let's rewind briefly to the beginning, to the morning of October 13th. It's Sunday, the weather is mixed, 13 degrees, says the weather app. "But luckily warmer than last year!" Flower Manase, director of the National Museum in Dar es Salaam, and I joke as we wait at 64 Wilson Street. We were here last year, sheltering from the bad weather in Hamburg with rain capes. Some things have changed in Jenfeld since then, but many things have stayed the same. We are here today to talk about it; with neighbors from Jenfeld, with experts from Hamburg and Dar es Salaam. We want to see the park, in front of whose doors we are standing today, with different eyes. 

First with a tour in which Marc Agten, educational mediator from Hamburg, talks about the hidden ideologies in the so-called Tanzania Park. And even if it seems obvious that monuments built by National Socialists spread racist myths, we still need to take a closer look to understand what is hidden here. Marc Agten speaks of a "community of fate" that is constructed through the monuments. Of a myth surrounding the monuments, that of a "loyal Askari", but also of racist Nazi ideologies that took up the ideas of colonialism. Words that many of the tour's participants have never heard before, words that many cannot relate to, but who nevertheless make an effort to follow. "We come from Jenfelder Au, which is right next door and we've wanted to come to one of your events for so long. Now we've finally made it!" a young couple will say to me later, after the tour is over.

Then the sun comes out, the rain stops and Flower Manase starts to speak. She doesn't want a microphone, preferring to talk directly to the group and speak from her personal perspective. She doesn't seem to be standing there as a curator, doctoral candidate or director of the National Museum, but as an activist, as a person with many years of experience in the fight for a postcolonial culture of remembrance. She focuses on the question of for whom and in what interest these monuments were created. And the time for reflection is now. Manase talks about the fact that the neighborhood is engaging in this debate and co-determining which park they want now and for the future. This requires self-reflection, both on a personal level and in terms of family history, says Manase, which does not only take place in schools. And the perspective of Tanzanian communities is also fundamental; one way to achieve this is a multilingual approach, in German, English and Kiswahili, in order to speak and work together on the new history of the park. What else is needed for this, one wonders at this point. Manase has an answer: we need a safe space for critical reflection for everyone. Organized at the community level, i.e. people who do not belong to the government or an institution, but to neighbors and communities. Perspectives and biographies must be made visible that have so far remained invisible, such as the Askaris or porters who can be seen on the monument. Manase speaks in a calm and level-headed manner, while at the same time carefully focusing on what is still missing when we talk about the park. He makes an appeal for further work and motivates us. At the same time, it becomes clear that simply redesigning the park is not the solution, at least that's what I take from her conversation. Rather, the way to get there is what we need to consider. Who is part of the conversation and who is left out.