Painting The World’s Slums And Refugee Camps With Seb Toussaint
Seb Toussaint is a street artist who’s spent the last eight years travelling to slums and refugee camps around the world, offering to paint for these communities. Through his Share The Word project, community members select a word that has special meaning for them, and Seb gets to work painting their walls, living in the slums or refugee camps with them, learning their stories and sharing them with the world.
Passionate about serving under-served communities through is Share The Word project, Seb endeavours to shine a light on the people and communities that the world too often ignored, giving them a voice to share their stories.
Awestruck by the beauty of this project, we were thrilled to sit down with Seb to discuss his experiences on the Street Art Unearthed podcast, where he talks about how the project was born, how profoundly it has impacted him personally, and what Share The World has done for the communities he serves.
Check out the podcast with Seb Toussaint, or read on for excerpts from the chat.
A Worldwide Cycle That Sparked a Movement
I have a couple of very good friends who I still work with today. One of them, who’s a photographer, we were together in Sicily. We met at school when we were 10 years old, and we didn’t really enjoy school that much to be honest, but what we enjoyed was being together. And then we started just travelling around, even going not too far from here, around Normandy on our bikes when we were teenagers. And then we decided to go a bit further, and we went around a big cycling trip in Scotland. And then we decided to go further and to leave from our city and to go to Serbia. Serbia, Bosnia, Croatia, and then come back to our city in a sort of European trip. And then we thought, “Let’s push this further and go the whole way around the world for a year, starting from our city and then come back to our city.”
We did this in 2011 and 2012. There was three of us, and, of course, it was an opportunity for me to paint in different countries and stuff, and there was one particular moment where my two friends were sick with just the usual travelling sort of sick you can get. I think the altitude, as well, because this was in Bolivia. And we were in the city of Sucre in Bolivia, and so I just had basically a week without pedalling and a lot of free time.
Udjama (=unity) — Mayotte.
I went to get some paint, and I asked a guy in the centre of town, living not too far from where our little B&B was, and I said, “Can I paint your house?” And he said, “Well, the thing is, it’s got to stay white because it’s a UNESCO heritage site, this whole centre of town because it’s colonial architecture and stuff.” So he said, “You can’t really paint here because if you paint here, someone will have to paint white, the municipality will have to paint white over it tomorrow, so there’s no point. But if you go to those neighbourhoods up there on the hill, the sort of favela type areas, I’m sure they’ll let you.”
I did that, and, sure, they did let me. I was very free to paint whatever I wanted, and people really enjoyed it and gave me some bananas to thank me, I remember. I came back to my two friends who were ill and talked about this, and, gradually, after that, the idea of going to low-income neighbourhoods and painting seemed like a great idea because of the freedom that that gave us and the interaction that we get, because until then, I was painting stuff on my own very quickly at night, which is fine, and it’s fun in a way as well, but you don’t get the same interaction with people because the whole point is not to meet anyone.
Share The Word is Born
The idea sort of came from there, and we came back from the cycling, so it was 2012, and in 2013, my friend — who’s a photographer called Spag — and I went to Jakarta in Indonesia to try this project. We got this idea a bit later after the cycling trip to ask people for a word, and I would paint that word. You meet many people who do have a voice, but no-one listens to their voice. Everyone pretty much ignores their existence, their communities or what they have to share with us all. So this is why it’s called Share The Word.
I go to a slum or refugee camp or somewhere that’s quite marginalised. I ask people to give me one word that’s important, any word they want, but something that has a lot of importance, of course, and they tell me their story, they tell me why they chose that word, and I just paint the word on their house with colours and patterns and all this.
Kali Malang -Jakarta, Indonesia.
That’s how it was born. I started the first one of these in Jakarta, Indonesia, and it worked well, and people liked it, and I enjoyed it. They didn’t speak much English, but it didn’t matter because a friend of mine wrote down in Indonesian just a few sentences, like, “I’m an artist. You choose a word, I paint your wall for free.” That’s it, basically. And then they would get it, they would write a word, and we would interact then with hands, and I picked up a few words, and it worked fine. It’s so easy to explain and to understand, and after I painted one or two murals in that neighbourhood in Indonesia, people came to me and said, “Oh, I live there, and I want this word on my house,” and so we just got on like this.
The interaction is great. People made food for us and stuff, and I thought, “This really works. I mean, I’m enjoying it, they were enjoying it, and hopefully, the people who are following what we’re doing are learning a little something.”
My friend, Spag, got some great images, and we thought, “I must try this somewhere else, just to see if it works in a very different context with a very different culture. And so went to Kenya and that worked, and then we went to Nepal, and then that worked, and then Colombia, and then it’s been years now.
Figuring Out Where to Paint
Most of the time, I don’t know in which slum I’m going to work in before I get to the place. I pick a city, and I chose the locations in relation to the climate. That’s the most important. Of course, if it’s a very wet season and I have to paint outside, it’s not really possible. So I try to choose a dry season, of course, and then a city that has slums.
You can see where the slums are from just looking at satellite images, you know? You just go on Google Maps, satellite, and you see where the slums are because, especially now, I’m used to looking for these areas, because the roofs are different. The houses are much smaller. The density of buildings is very high, so you see where they are straight away.
Usually, I go to maybe visit a few slums on the first day, and end up choosing either the one that has maybe a leader that seemed like a good leader, or the one that has the most walls we are able to paint because sometimes the houses are so dense that you can’t really step back and see the wall for real.
Zema (=goodness) -Mayotte.
The other thing is, of course, transport. If you’re in a city like Jakarta, you don’t want to be working in a slum that’s on the other side of town, or else you’ll be spending three hours or four hours a day in public transport or in a car or something, and I’m here to paint, not to spend my time in transport.
Really Immersing in the Community
Once I’ve chosen the slum, I stay in the same slum for one month. Sometimes I’m able to live inside. Sometimes not. Sometimes I’m living close to there, but not inside the slum, it depends.
I don’t change slums halfway through the project. I want to be with the same people because I want to be part of the neighbourhood and it takes a few days of stuff. At first, they just sometimes call me whatever word means the white man, but very quickly, I become Seb. So very quickly, I become part of the neighbourhood, and I always love that feeling. It’s a great feeling when people make you part of something. So I stay in the same place.
Allah -Mazarita, Cairo, Egypt.
It’s a little bit different if I go to refugee camps because I need an authorisation from the UN before, and in particular, the UNHCR, the High Commissioner for Refugees. When it’s a refugee camp, I’ll always live inside the refugee camp, which is great because very few people are able to do that, because there’s a simple rule that applies almost everywhere round the world in refugee camps, which says that if you work for the UN or for an NGO, you have to leave the refugee camp before sun sets.
Since I don’t work for anyone, and I have no sponsors, and no NGO, and I’m not from the UN either or anything, the UN says to me, “Okay, you can go to this refugee camp, but if something happens, we’re not responsible.” I say, “Yeah, fine, fine.” And so that’s how in several places, like in Iraq, in Palestine twice, in Uganda, I was in refugee camps, living inside the refugee camps. And I was the only non-refugee basically to be living inside the refugee camp with my friend/assistant who comes with me, who’s called Dudu, who comes with me.
Shifting From Foreigner to Family
What’s great is that people obviously can see that I’m a foreigner, yeah, I’m an outsider, and so the great thing is that people love having someone visiting because they feel like everyone ignores them. No-one goes to their place, and no-one goes to their community. No-one goes and interacts with the community, even just from outside the community. So people from the centre of Jakarta would never go to this slum in Jakarta, for example.
قدوة (=example) -Palestine.
The fact that someone from even further has dared sometimes to come in and do something positive, people think that’s great. Even before I’ve started painting, people are talking to me, “Ah, where are you from?” And “What’s it like in your country?” And, “Have you tried this food?” And “What’s your name?” And, “Which football club do you support?” And loads of questions because people are curious. So there’s always a good feeling like this.
Occasionally, right at the beginning, there could be a bit of tension because people don’t know what I’m there for, and there could be a bit of trouble with the gang, for example. Like in Brazil, when I entered the favela on the first day, someone got a gun out and pointed it at me, and anyway, just because it’s weird having someone from the outside step inside this very, very close community. The first day, I had a gun pointed at me, but then they were having barbecues and bringing me loads of meat and stuff, and they were just cool guys. It’s just that they have a job, which is obviously maintaining security in their favela. And they have enemies, and it’s a tense world, but, in the end, they’re not bad guys, they’re just guys who do what they can to feed their family.
-Guatemala.
Also, in the Ivory Coast, in a very, very tough slum, I got into a bit of trouble of the first day, but things usually smoothen out in the first days and then the gangs have got to know what I’m there for. If I explain what I’m there for, I show pictures of what I’ve done in other countries, I show them, I don’t know, Instagram and they see my face on there, and they see my paintings, and they think, “Oh, okay, okay, right, right.” And then I’m really like family.
Understanding Community Dynamics
People like the project in the places I go to. And it’s cool, also, that it’s their words. It’s my art, but it’s their words. It’s what they want to express, and I don’t force anyone, I don’t force myself on a wall. I always ask someone, “Could I paint your wall?” That’s for the first few days. After the first few days, it’s the people who ask me to paint their wall.
فرحة (=happiness) -Palestine.
It’s quite easy to find a community leader. They have the charisma that you kind of get used to it, you kind of know who they are. You can also just ask someone, “Can I meet the leader?” It’s trickier when there are several leaders and maybe several gangs, maybe when the power is shared between different ethnic groups, which is a very African thing.
My job is always a bit more difficult in Africa. I think the level of poverty just makes things harder. Not always, but often. Of course, if it’s a Muslim country that is quite strict on Islam, it makes my job easier because there’s no alcohol. Poverty and alcohol is usually, of course, not a great mix and can make people a bit violent and cause difficult situations.
Paix (=peace) -Niger.
But in Niger, for example, where people are Muslims, and there’s very little alcohol available in the country, it was a very, very low-income neighbourhood, but it was very calm and very peaceful, and I think it’s, of course, due to there was no alcohol around, so that can make a big difference. So, of course, yeah, same in Iraq or et cetera. If there’s no alcohol, it just makes my job easier, for sure.
Stand Out Words
Some words are very regularly chosen, like peace. I think I’ve had peace 17 times out of 204 words, so that’s quite a lot, you know? Of course, it’s been often chosen by people who are victims of conflicts. Could be in refugee camps and slums as well because you have lots of people in slums who’ve fled conflicts in a neighbouring country often the side of one country. So, of course, peace takes a whole very intense meaning when it’s someone… When you know what war is, then you do realise what peace is.
Okovu (=to save) -Uganda.
Peace and love have been chosen a lot. But love is usually chosen in Christian countries more than in Muslim or Hindu countries. Maybe it’s something that’s a little bit more taboo. I have one exception to this because there was one woman in Iraq who chose the word love, and she was unlike most of the refugees in that refugee camp who were all from Syria, and this refugee camp was in Iraq. She was from Damascus, so she was from a large city, and most people were from smaller cities, and I tend to see that people from smaller cities or very traditional backgrounds in Muslim or Hindu countries, for example, tend not to choose the word love so much.
I have many other words, beautiful words that are given to me, and some words are very linked to something that’s cultural or even geographical. It’s common that some people choose to give me the name of the river that goes through their slum because it’s what gives them water, it’s what gives them life, it’s what gives them fish sometimes, so of course, it’s very important.
The words can be different or just something very cultural like someone gave me the word “coffee” in Ethiopia, and it’s not just about what that person likes, it’s because coffee is a moment where people gather. It’s a whole ceremony in Ethiopia where they take a lot of time, and they sit together, and they share together. It’s really something that’s sacred in their culture.
Memoria (=memory) -Petare, Venezuela.
I had one that was the word “banjir”, which means flood. Like, floods in a neighbourhood where the water rises every year during the rainy season and people have to move out. It’s a difficult thing for them because, yeah, for two months they have to move out. I thought it was, yeah, I don’t know, a bit strange that umm… It’s part of their life, so I get it.
Painting on the Fly
All the murals I paint are painted freestyle because, of course, I don’t know what word people are going to choose anyway, so I can’t come with something prepared, a little drawing or something. I just start painting an undercoat in white, I prepare the wall a little bit, and then I just look at the wall, and the first thing is, of course, how many letters are there in the word and what’s the size of the wall.
If it’s a square wall and you have four letters, like love, for example, I’m going to be more inclined in putting L-O at the top and V-E at the bottom, for example. So the first thing I think of is how many letters and what’s the size, the dimensions of the wall, and then I go from there, and I let everything around me sort of influence my work in a way, sometimes a little bit subconsciously, but you just go with the moment.
الحياة (=life) -Palestine.
Only in a few countries am I able to use spray paints. So in some places in Latin America and in Europe… I have in the Philippines as well, but in many locations, I don’t know, Uganda, or Ivory Coast, or Nepal, I’m not able to find good spray paint. It doesn’t matter, I just paint with paintbrushes, and I just find it from anywhere. When you’re in large cities, it’s no problem finding a paint shop.
So the only difference is that I think when I paint with paintbrushes, it takes me 3.5 or four times the time to paint the same wall as it does with spray paint. Spray paint is so quick. The good thing is, I have a friend, my friend Dudu, who helps me and it’s just a bit quicker because there’s two of us, and he helps me with logistics as well, things like I need water to paint with my paintbrushes and even to just clean my brushes afterwards, and sometimes the water is not easily accessible, so you need to go and fetch the water, maybe from a well or, I don’t know. It’s good being at least two of us on this project because, well, there’s a lot of work, for sure.
Vie (=life) -Abidjan, Ivory Coast.
Positive Personal Impacts From Share The Word
Wow. Yeah, of course, there’s so many that I don’t know where to start. There are different levels. I just love learning, and being dyslexic I’m very slow when I read, and so I’ve always learned more stuff through experience than reading. So travelling and going to see things for myself and asking questions is the way that I learn stuff.
I just tend to, in my mind, to include the world a little bit more, like when I think of something, I have so many examples of how people, I don’t know, eat, pray, assess, see, I don’t know, getting married, love, how people see love around the world. And so I have so many different perspectives on that because I’ve witnessed it. I’ve been to weddings in multiple countries because I was invited because I was there.
When I started this project, I only spoke a bit of basic Spanish, and now I speak Spanish fluently. The last two times I was in South America, I gave some talks at university and interviews on radio stations, and I have no problem with that, and it’s thanks to people in favela type areas in South America who’ve taught me Spanish, just because I was there with them and I had to speak and stuff.
Unión -Petare, Venezuela.
Same with Arabic, I couldn’t write Arabic. I knew nothing, maybe one word in Arabic before I started this, and now I can speak a bit of basic Arabic, and I can read and write it. That’s something that’s a very concrete example of something that I’ve learnt through people from slums and refugee camps. And then how these societies function, how the power is shared. All this is fascinating stuff, you know?
Emotions on Leaving
I think the hardest thing in my job is when you have to leave, you know? At the same time, I think it just shows how great the project in that area was if I feel sad when I leave. So in the end, it does mean that it was a great thing, but it is a horrible moment to experience.
I remember a particular time in India. So I was living in the slum. 7000 people living in the slum and I was there with my friend, Dudu, and when we left, there were 200 people from the slum who came with us to the platform of the train, because we took a train to the airport. They were hugging, crying, shouting, laughing, everything, and the train rolled in, and so we boarded the train. They helped us with our luggage and stuff, and a couple of guys stepped onto the train with us, just, I don’t know, to make sure that everything was fine. But then the rest of the lot started running after the train, and you know the doors are open in India, so they were giving us high fives and running after the train, and it was like a riot on the platform because some of the commuters were stepping off the train and bumping into these 200 Indians who were running after us. And so people were falling over, and I’m sure there were injuries and stuff, and there was a whole racket. And then the train left, and the noise disappeared, and that was it, I was gone. I felt sort of terrible, but at the same time, it was a beautiful way to say goodbye because they all came with us.
Nisarga (=nature) -Mumbai, India.
Emotionally, it’s very difficult. I laugh about it now when I see all the people falling over. It was funny in the end. But, yeah, of course, that’s hard, and you don’t know when you’re going to be back there. So you don’t know if you’ll be back again.
Positive Impacts on the Communities
The project is going to continue because what I love is the consequences that the project has. Real things change after I’ve been there. Some very concrete examples of things that have changed and that’s also what makes it really interesting is the impact that you can have by just painting walls. Then something happens that I hadn’t predicted, but happens in the neighbourhood, like, I don’t know, the municipality promises to inject money to buy new roofs, this happened in Katmandu. Or people come to the neighbourhood, people who didn’t use to come to before, they come to the neighbourhood and get involved in social and educational projects inside the neighbourhood because they had a reason to go to the neighbourhood, which was the painting. That happened in Bogota in Colombia.
Amour (=love) -Abidjan, Ivory Coast.
These are things I find out maybe a month, two months after having been there, and I realise that there’s been an impact, and I mean, that just shows me that it works. It can actually change things for real, which I hadn’t expected, but it does.
Support Share The Word
I’ve never looked for sponsors. Basically I just self fund it. The rest of the year, I work for, I don’t know, whoever. It could be a street art festival, it could be just someone who wants their wall painted. I don’t really have something for donations. It could be a good idea, actually, that I do that.
But I think the best thing is, and then everyone’s happy, is that I sell a lot of canvases simply through Instagram. People contact me on Instagram and say, “Oh, could I buy this canvas that you’ve just posted? Or else, I’d like one in these dimensions, would it be possible?” et cetera. I also sell canvases through a gallery in Paris, and there are also people who just contact me. I think that’s the best way, in a way, because they get some art that they can have at home. They support the project because it directly pays for my project. So I think the best thing is just that. With stuff that I sell, I put some to one side for the next project.
Fede (=faith) -Favara, Italy.
Written with excerpts from the Street Art Unearthed podcast episode with Seb Toussaint.
Follow Seb Toussaint via his website, Facebook or Instagram.
