Meet the Style Revolutionaries of Brazzaville

The fashion-setting sapeurs of the Republic of the Congo’s capital are getting new life as females join in on the decades-old tradition.

Photographs by Stephen Tayo

“As sapeurs, we like to describe ourselves as peacemakers,” says Issabelle Ofele. “We don’t fight — our clothes do the talking.” From left: Issabelle Ofele, Serafin Solasteni, and Grace Messani.

Find yourself in Brazzaville, the laid-back capital of the Republic of the Congo, on a typically balmy day, and you might browse the marketplace in Poto Poto, lunch on pondu at a malewa stall — or get swept up in a distinctively Congolese street-set fashion show known as a sapeur procession. Sapeurs embody a lifestyle called la sape (La Société des Ambianceurs et des Personnes Élégantes), with roots in early-20th-century colonial Congo. At that time in the French-occupied country, many Congolese workers were paid in fabric and used clothes, and they’d transform those “wages” into bespoke ensembles.

Left to right: Gambou Ossibe, Koko Malanga, Laurence Dzimi, and Grace Messani.

During World War II, Congolese men were recruited in large numbers by the French military. Soldiers were heavily influenced by French fashion; when they brought those influences back to Brazzaville, la sape crystallized into a regional coterie. A sapeur personified the ­gentleman dandy: all the self-assured flamboyance and the impeccably ­tailored suits. A powder keg of postwar political and social circumstances contributed to an anticolonialist undercurrent in the movement. The French might have made the clothes the sapeurs sported, but the sapeurs ­tailored, customized, and wore them in a way that was singularly Congolese.

“Most people are not against us. Still, as women we receive a lot of negative feedback. But sapeurs must be fearless. There is no room for insecurities.”

— Issabelle Ofele

“I’ve been involved in this movement since the ’80s,” says sapeur Serafin Solasteni (above right). “I have always expected it to evolve and become gender-inclusive. If you look at sports like boxing or soccer, we have women playing. As sapeurs, we should be open to diversity, as well.”

Over the past several decades, la sape has undergone political upheaval, increased visibility, and a development that speaks to changing tides in patriarchal Congolese culture: the advancement of women in the movement. Though historically all-male, sapeur clubs have seen a recent uptick in female membership. L’Association la Dynamic des Sapeur Court des Grands (ADCG), based in Brazzaville’s Mikalou district, is one such club. It started accepting women in 2010 after trailblazer Laurence Dzimi joined. “Women bring something different to the table,” she says. “The moment we show up, the energy in the room changes.”

Her pioneering move inspired others like Grace Messani to follow her lead. “We have been disregarded for so long because Congo is very conservative in terms of culture,” says Messani. “Women are expected to do what a man tells them to.” Many women see la sape as an avenue for autonomy and creativity. “The freedom of expression keeps me going,” says ADCG member Nicole Ayellassia. “Some people paint to express themselves, others sing or dance. For us, dressing up is that thing.”

Courissa Judith Chantel (left) comes from a family of sapeurs and became interested in la sape when she was 10, the same age as her son Dodido. “He really likes the fact that I’m a sapeur,” she says. “And when he dresses up, everyone applauds him. It boosts his confidence.”

About the author: Victoire Douniama is a portrait phographer and travel writer. She uses her work to explore and demonstrate the true essence of everyday life in Congo Brazzaville and captures the beauty and unique culture of her country.