The sorrowful eyes of 12-year-old Jayaram Siddi are a gateway to the labyrinth of historical trauma of men and women displaced from Africa and brought to the Indian subcontinent as slaves. His nightmares and daydreams are haunted by surreal visions of oppression, echoes of whacks and anguished cries of his ancestors. Jayaram, portrayed by Chinmaya Siddi from Uttara Kannada’s Siddi community, whose ancestors were likely victims of the Portuguese slave trade, is the protagonist of Rhythm of Dammam.
Directed by acclaimed filmmaker Jayan Cherian, the film was screened in the competition section of the recently concluded International Film Festival of Kerala and earned a special jury mention for Chinmaya’s captivating performance.
The film, a first-of-its-kind in India, explores the life, culture and rituals of the largely overlooked African-origin Siddi community of Uttara Kannada. And, according to Mohan Siddi, a scholar and social worker who has also acted in the film, this is the first time that a prominent film festival award has come the community’s way.
Jayan Cherian
The film follows the journey of Jayaram, who gets ‘possessed’ by the spirit of his recently deceased grandfather Rama Bantu Siddi. Post Rama’s death, Jayaram’s father and uncle are fighting over the little land they have and the ‘treasure’ that has been protected by his ancestors. However, Jayaram gets chosen by the ancestral spirits as the successor.
Cherian is known for films such as Papilio Buddha (2013), which addresses caste oppression, and Ka Bodyscapes (2016), which deals with gender and sexuality. Rhythm of Dammam, he says, is the culmination of his extensive research on the African diaspora in Asia and the Indian Ocean slave trade. Cherian has been interacting with the Siddi community since 2016, and stayed in their villages in Uttara Kannada in 2018.
The film’s shoot was completed in under 20 days in 2022. Prashant Siddi, a well-known figure in Kannada cinema, is the only professional actor in the film; the rest had never been in front of a film camera. Cherian first met Chinmaya in his village when he was six. He was initially apprehensive about acting in the film. “I was worried about how I would memorise the long dialogues,” he tells THE WEEK.
Convincing the community about the film was a challenge. “People like Mohan and Prashant understood its significance, but the community members, who were largely daily wage workers, found it hard to come for the shoot. Missing even a single day’s work meant they couldn’t afford basic necessities like rations,” recalls Cherian. Another challenge was working with external crews. “While the Kannada and Malayalam crews are well-trained, they often don’t understand our vision or the challenges we face,” he says. “The biggest hurdle, however, was financial. I went broke during filmmaking, but the love for cinema and the unwavering spirit of the Siddi community kept us going.”
Also, despite having the permission to shoot in the forest, Cherian claims that the police, district authorities and even imposters tried to halt the shooting. “Once, a man pretending to be a forest officer halted our shoot for eight hours, causing a loss of both money and morale,” says Cherian, while adding that some outsiders instigated locals by claiming that they were exploiting them for profit.
Rhythm of Dammam also highlights critical issues, such as land grabbing. In 2003, the Union government recognised the Siddis as a Scheduled Tribe, allocating land to Siddi families under the Forest Act. However, according to Cherian, systemic exploitation has meant most families lost their land. “Tribal land, which legally cannot be transferred, has been appropriated through loopholes,” he says.
While addressing the issue of land grabs, the film also sheds light on broader caste dynamics. Cherian cites a revenue report that designates specific divisions of the Yellapur forest exclusively for Siddi settlements. “Yet, these areas are tied to vast lands owned by Brahmin landlords, ensuring the Siddis remain under their control. Geographically and socially trapped, the Siddis live in villages tied to these landlords with no escape,” he explains.
Cherian observes that the Siddis are also treated as untouchables. “At a Siddi wedding I attended with Mohan, the catering was handled by a Brahmin contractor [so that people from other communities also would eat],” he recalls. “The Brahmins prepared the food but dined in a separate, curtained-off room, where Siddis were not allowed to see them eat. Untouchability is deeply ingrained. At a public event showcasing a Dammam dance performance, snacks and coffee were served, yet many attendees―not only Brahmins but also individuals from the Scheduled Castes―refused to consume anything prepared by the Siddi community.”
The film highlights how generations of Siddis are trapped in cycles of bonded labour. “Bonded labour persists today in indirect forms, despite being legally prohibited,” says Mohan. “While laws exist to identify and rescue bonded labourers, enforce penalties and provide compensation, the reality is that these practices often go unnoticed due to a lack of accountability. For instance, lenders claim to offer loans without interest, but the repayment terms are exploitative.”
The lack of awareness about the Siddi community is evident across various domains, including cinema. Prashant notes that until the 1990s, many people were unaware of the Siddi community’s existence in north Karnataka.
Although Rhythm of Dammam is set in a remote Indian village, Cherian connects the Siddi community in Uttara Kannada to the descendants of displaced Africans worldwide. He uses hip-hop as a tool to make this political statement. Having grown up in the US, where “the African diaspora is highly politically aware, and hip-hop emerged as a powerful liberation movement”, he is a huge fan of hip-hop. For the film, he wrote a rap song in English, which Mohan translated into Konkani.
“The film’s political heart lies in this rap song,” he says, “which bridges global icons like Malcolm X and Tupac Shakur with historical Siddi figures such as Malik Ambar, the legendary Sidi general of Ahmednagar, and the nawabs of Janjira, an unconquered independent Siddi state that resisted Portuguese, Maratha, Dutch and British forces until 1949. Our goal is to connect the African diaspora here with the global African diaspora, instilling black consciousness within the community to unite them.”