Etheldreda D. Nanfa:

Welcome Evein and thank you for accepting our invitation to interview. You are a dedicated leader in Anti-racism whose work spans across Europe. Currently, you serve as the Director for the European Coalition of Cities Against Racism (ECCAR), and you are also the founder of Migration Hub Heidelberg. Your efforts impact over 150 cities by supporting anti-racist policies and empowering grassroots initiatives.

Evein Rosa Obulor (sheher):
Thank you. In my current position, I am the Director of the European Coalition of Cities Against Racism (ECCAR), where I support the anti-racism efforts of 150 cities across Europe. My central focus is working on institutional structures to shift the responsibility of fighting racism from individuals to an institutional level, holding these institutions accountable and supporting them through transformation. Within this coalition, we have a special working group on anti-Black racism and a dedicated network for Black and people of colour leaders within European municipalities. So, within ECCAR, my work is closely linked to anti-Black racism. Ten years ago, I could never have imagined myself working in city administration. I began as a grassroots leader and activist, organizing protests in Heidelberg, where I also founded Migration Hub Heidelberg as a platform for exchange among BIPOC-led grassroots organizations. This platform has allowed us to support each other, learn from each other, and strengthen our collective voice.

From there, my journey connected me more strongly with the Black movement in Germany. I joined RosaMag, the first independent lifestyle magazine for Black, female, trans and non-binary voices. Together with RosaMag, I published a book, Schwarz wird groß geschrieben (translated to “Black is Capitalized”). This book emerged from the Black Lives Matter movement when I felt the need to develop something specifically for Black people, not merely explaining racism to white people but creating content for ourselves — especially young Black individuals. During protests, I met many young Black people on the streets for the first time, and I wanted to offer something written specifically for them.

With Black is Capitalized, I collaborated with 21 Black German authors, each representing perspectives from FLINTA (female, lesbian, intersex, non-binary, trans, or agender communities) about what it means to be Black. We aimed to capture the diversity of Black voices because there is no single definition of Blackness. Our communities are truly heterogeneous; there are layers of discrimination among Black people too. With this book, we made an effort to present Black voices in their diversity — queer voices, dark-skinned voices, fat voices, young voices, older voices — a mix that highlights how, despite sharing an identity as Black people, we have varied experiences. This diversity is still what guides my work today.

As you can see, I am somewhat torn between different roles. I still work at the grassroots level, supporting NGOs and doing activist work, but I am also the director of a European organization. This dual role has often positioned me as a bridge, which is also how I became the first anti-racism officer in Heidelberg. Heidelberg was the first city in Germany to establish such a position, and for me, it was both a challenge and a significant step. I was quite young, and having previously criticized the government, I suddenly found myself part of it by working with the city administration. This transition was challenging, but I am very grateful for where I am now because I see the importance of addressing racism on a structural, institutional level. I have spent much time protesting, giving workshops, and moderating discussions to change people’s perspectives, but tackling racism requires more than that — it necessitates structural change, not just individual efforts. So, that’s a bit about me and what I’m working on. There is much more to discuss, but I hope this gives a good first impression.

Etheldreda D. Nanfa:
Profound insight. Thank you, Evein. This actually leads us to our first question, which builds on the topic of identity. You’ve already touched on this, but if possible, could you delve a little deeper? I’d like to explore your thoughts on self-identification within the Afro-German and African diaspora contexts. How do you position yourself within these identity frameworks? For instance, do you feel that being called “Black” is pejorative in comparison to being called “African,” or do you see these labels differently? What do you consider pejorative versus acceptable? Additionally, how do you think we can help the broader audience understand that some labels are more inclusive, while others may not resonate the same way? What are your thoughts on this?

Evein Rosa Obulor:
Firstly, in the German context — if you’re socialized in Germany in a predominantly white environment — it becomes crucial to find words that capture the experiences you have. For me, finding these words was essential; through language, I could, in a way, manifest my reality. It’s empowering to have words. Language is power; words are powerful. Having the opportunity to define myself and decide how I want to describe my experience as a Black person in Germany is crucial.

But when we talk about “Blackness,” “Afro-German,” or being part of the African diaspora, we’re still discussing socially constructed categories. These terms vary depending on the social context in which one is raised or politicized. I think it’s partly a result of a “white gaze” that Black people are expected to agree on one label to describe themselves, as if we were  a homogeneous group. We are not. There are people who refer to themselves as African, Afro-German, part of the African diaspora, or simply Black. I personally don’t mind which term someone chooses as long as it’s  their  choice. What matters is that Black people have the autonomy to decide how they identify themselves.

For example, some may feel more connected to the African continent because they have two African parents living in Germany, so identifying as part of the African diaspora or simply African might make more sense for them. I, myself, have a white mother and a Black father from Nigeria, so the term “Afro-German” resonates with me. However, it’s important to note that referring to all Black people in Germany as “Afro-German” is also very exclusive, as not everyone has a white parent or a similar background. We see this in the Afro-German movement, where, for instance, darker-skinned voices have often been silenced. We need to address colourism and recognize that “Afro-German” does not encompass the entire spectrum of Black experiences in Germany.

Personally, I identify as Afro-German, but my current preferred term is “Black,” capitalized, because it signifies a broader tradition. Here, I’m not just referring to melanin or skin colour, but rather a social experience that can unify and empower as a political category. However, I recognize that my father, for example, would never describe himself as Black; he would simply say, “I’m Nigerian.” He might even wonder why his daughter has these identity struggles.

When it comes to racial identity, I wish for Black people to be gentle with ourselves and each other, rather than imposing a need for a single, unified term. We are a very heterogeneous group, and the desire for homogeneity often comes from a white gaze or colonial legacy that implies we must have one all-encompassing label. I believe that visibility is important, and terms that capture our experiences can be powerful tools. However, it’s also perfectly fine for these terms to be varied.

It took me 20 years to find the words to describe my experience as a Black person. For two decades, I only had a “weird feeling” in my stomach, a sense of something missing. Then I began reading, learning about the histories of Black and Afro-German women who came before me, and finally, I started to find words. So yes, labels do matter, but they shouldn’t be our main focus.

For instance, in my master’s thesis, I conducted a series of interviews with individuals identifying in different ways: as Black, as African, as part of the African diaspora. The differences in their self-identification were often reflective of their unique biographical journeys.

Since you’re asking specifically about the German context, “Afro-German” is significant because it shows that it is possible to be both Black, of African descent, and German, thus embedding our reality into German history. But this term is not one-size-fits-all, nor should every Black person in Germany feel obligated to adopt it. I hope this response provides some helpful insight.

Etheldreda D. Nanfa:
That was helpful, Evein. I’d like to add a follow-up question. Do you believe the absence of Black Studies in Germany makes it even more challenging for Africans here to identify with or connect to their roots?

Evein Rosa Obulor:
Absolutely. I hope you’ll also speak with Professor Dr. Natasha A. Kelly, who is a strong advocate for Black Studies in Germany. Having Black Studies is not only helpful, but it’s crucial for understanding our roots and how we are embedded in German history. On a personal level, Black Studies can be incredibly beneficial for individuals trying to connect with their heritage. But it’s also worth noting that this conversation often centers around academia and universities, and many Black people don’t have access to the knowledge produced in these spaces. I think the real priority is access to our history, identities, and shared experiences. Black Studies is one way to achieve that, but there are other paths — through family, books, movies, and more. These different avenues allow people to shape their identity and foster a sense of belonging. Black Studies is essential for understanding the long-standing presence of Black people in Germany and, specifically, the contributions they’ve made to German history that have often been rendered invisible. We need Black Studies to help uncover and support this knowledge.

Etheldreda D. Nanfa:
Thank you for sharing your perspective. It’s inspiring to see how different ideas and opinions on identity can contribute to a deeper understanding. Moving on, you mentioned colourism earlier. In the specific context of Germany, given the significant challenges that communities of colour are facing — especially with the rise of right-wing extremism — what advice would you offer to the Black Academy and similar organizations in supporting their communities during these times? With the ongoing issues of extremism and reimmigration, where do you think we stand? Are we making progress or are we falling back in our efforts toward fostering a more inclusive society?

Evein Rosa Obulor:
I would say it’s a bit of both. Even though, in many ways, we’re moving forward, we’re also taking steps backward. Black people have never been as visible in Germany as they are today, yet we’re seeing a normalization of far-right extremist positions that we didn’t see twenty years ago.

When it comes to communities of colour, the ongoing debates aren’t surprising. For people of colour, this is a reality we’ve lived with for a long time — racism has been and continues to be part of our daily lives. Now, it’s becoming more visible in mainstream spaces, where the majority population in Germany can no longer ignore what’s happening. Right-wing extremism in Germany has deep roots and historical continuity that has never been effectively addressed. For example, in the 1990s — the so-called Baseball Bat Years — racist attacks on refugee homes were disturbingly frequent, revealing a pattern that’s continued into today.

Now, what does this mean for us as those affected? There are two layers to this for me. For institutions like the Black Academy, it’s essential to support Black communities by creating safe spaces where we can recharge, experience a sense of belonging, and breathe. But we can’t stop there. We need to build and strengthen alliances, joining forces to amplify our political voice. This isn’t just about focusing inward — it’s about building alliances with other communities affected by racism and white allies who are committed to this fight.

Recently, with the Hamas attack and its repercussions in Germany, many post-migrant and Black communities of colour are feeling divided. Meanwhile, right-wing extremist groups are reinforcing their alliances. They don’t necessarily agree on everything, but they’re willing to compromise to stay united. What I hope for the Black Academy, and similar institutions, is that we find ways to compromise and maintain unity. We may not agree on every term, like “Black” versus “Afro-German,” but we need to continue the political work and stay united, even amid differences.

The Black Academy is on its way to becoming more institutionalized, giving it access to spaces that many Black individuals can’t reach. That makes it additionally responsible  to be a strong voice against anti-Black racism and advocate for a post-migrant reality, which is very much a part of Mannheim and other German cities. The Academy can play a crucial role by advocating in places where individuals of African descent might not be heard.

I think we also need to remember our history. The Black movement in Germany has a strong foundation built by ancestors and activists who started this work over forty years ago. I recall moderating a significant demonstration in Frankfurt in January 2024 after the research of CORRECTIV was published with about 70,000 people — the largest demonstration I’ve ever seen. It was incredibly empowering. But after that, I didn’t see much follow-through politically. This shows that just opposing something isn’t enough. We need to come together to create a clear vision for the society we want, a vision that includes holding our local governments accountable. And I believe one effective place to start is in our cities, by encouraging local governments to make meaningful changes.

Etheldreda D. Nanfa:
Yes, as the saying goes, charity begins at home. Starting with where we are and striving to support individuals and communities can create the foundation needed to push forward and initiate broader change.

Evein Rosa Obulor:
I fully agree. Organize where you are, and don’t hesitate to hold structures like city governments accountable because they have a duty to serve their population in all its diversity. Anti-Black racism, institutional racism, and right-wing extremism are dangers to the integrity of these institutions. So we must hold them accountable, starting locally, in our cities.

Etheldreda D. Nanfa:
I appreciate your guidance. These suggestions you’ve provided are invaluable. Thinking about the support from broader societal structures, how do you see the role of local governments evolving in addressing racial injustices? You mentioned this earlier — their evolving role. What concrete steps could they take to ensure that BIPOC voices are heard and valued? You began from grassroots level, and now you’re serving as the Director of ECCAR. Could this shift represent a strategy for the government? Do you feel empowered in your position to make impactful changes, or are there instances where you feel your voice is being silenced, even now, within the government?

Evein Rosa Obulor:
So, starting with the first part of your question on why I consider local governments crucial — especially when addressing anti-Black racism, and racism in general — it’s important to recognize that most people around the world live in cities. Cities are often the first point of institutional contact for people. For example, if you move to a new area, you register with the city, or if you have children, they go to city-run institutions like kindergartens or Kitas (child day-care facility). Cities, in this way, are directly connected to their citizens’ lives. And importantly, local governments tend to hold more trust with their citizens compared to national or EU-level governments, which provides great potential for meaningful collaboration.

At the same time, as institutions, city governments are not immune to systemic forms of racism. This institutional reality is created and shaped by people, and therefore, it can be changed by people. This is why working with city governments is so critical; their actions have direct impacts on the daily lives of all citizens, including Black citizens and other marginalized communities. The cities I work with have committed to combating racism at the local level by signing agreements and taking concrete actions. Of course, it’s never enough — there’s always more work to be done — but even joining our network indicates a city’s acknowledgment of the issue and a commitment to addressing it.

However, there’s a clear lack of representation of Black individuals and others affected by racism in city governments, which reflects institutionalized racism. Access to these institutions — who applies, who gets accepted, who feels they belong — is influenced by systemic bias. But simply adding Black people to these institutions won’t solve the problem; that approach can be tokenizing. Representation matters, but it’s not enough by itself. People can be Black and hold conservative or even right-wing extremist views. So, while our institutions should mirror the diversity of society, we also need to think beyond representation alone.

Concrete actions are necessary. For example, stronger anti-discrimination laws are essential to provide real protection against racism. Germany has the Allgemeines Gleichbehandlungsgesetz (General Equal Treatment Act), but its protections don’t extend to key institutions like schools, police departments, universities, or city administrations. When addressing racism at the city level, we must examine institutional structures and routines closely, as these often harbor hidden forms of racism that need to be uncovered and transformed. It’s beneficial if Black individuals are part of these efforts, but it’s equally important that they — and anyone in these roles — have the specific knowledge and competencies required to identify and address systemic forms of racism effectively.

Etheldreda D. Nanfa:
That’s a powerful call to action for city governments — the importance of building coalitions, being inside the system to better understand it, and advocating for more safe spaces for marginalized communities. Now, as we shift focus, let’s talk about strategies for sustainable social change. As founder of Migration Hub Heidelberg, we all know that community-driven efforts have always been pivotal to social change. In your experience with Migration Hub Heidelberg, what strategies have proven effective for ensuring visibility and sustainability for marginalized, BIPOC-led initiatives, particularly when support might be limited?

Earlier, you mentioned that it’s not just about being in the right spaces but also about knowing who best fits to further these discussions, push advocacy, promote social change, and combat racial injustices. What has your experience taught you so far?

Evein Rosa Obulor:
So, I think the phrase “know the system to change the system” is really crucial here, right? It’s important to understand that, yes, while it might not sound very emotional or visionary, knowing how things work — like where funding comes from, where political decisions are made, and who to speak to — is powerful knowledge for transforming society. Unfortunately, many communities of colour haven’t had access to this kind of structural knowledge.

At the Migration Hub Heidelberg, we try to bring together different BIPOC-led initiatives to learn from each other, exchange knowledge, and avoid repeating the same mistakes. The “Hub” is a connecting point, a place to share what works and to support, coach, and guide initiatives in this space. We’ve seen that when new initiatives start, there’s a lot of motivation and energy, but after a couple of years, burnout often sets in. So, we work to support BIPOC-led organizations to find a healthy way to sustain their work.

Part of this involves helping them access funding and understand application processes. It might seem technical or less resonant, but it’s essential because many funding opportunities are taxpayer-funded, and everyone has a right to access them. But often, the same large institutions or NGOs benefit because they understand the system—they know the language, they know who to talk to, they know the timing. At Migration Hub Heidelberg, we aim to share this knowledge with migrant-led organizations, to open doors for them, and to help form alliances.

When we started in 2015 during the so-called refugee crisis, we saw many initiatives emerging independently, often doing similar things but not communicating with each other. Many were led by people outside the communities affected, which didn’t always align with the actual needs of people experiencing racism or displacement. So, we stepped in to connect these organizations, find synergies, and use collective knowledge and power to have a stronger voice. And, importantly, to ensure that migrant-led voices are at the forefront of these efforts — not dominated by NGOs led by those unaffected by these issues. From Migration Hub Heidelberg, the Anti-Racism Network also emerged. For example, after the corrective immigration report, the Anti-Racism Network collectively wrote an open letter to the local government to emphasize that it’s crucial to center the needs of affected communities and take concrete political actions — not just oppose right-wing parties like the AfD in words but actually support people in vulnerable positions with real measures. This advocacy effort led to a successful outcome: a political commitment that resulted in €30,000 in funding for anti-racism work in Heidelberg.

But why did that happen? Because there was already a strong alliance in place, there was existing knowledge about who we needed to address in such a letter, the right timing, and how to effectively formulate it. Heidelberg is one of the few cities where the anti-racism movement succeeded in moving from large-scale demonstrations, which were happening all across Germany, to securing concrete measures and local-level funding. This would not have been possible without organizations like Migration Hub Heidelberg.

I personally invested a great deal of time, energy, and passion into this work — perhaps too much at times. There’s a strong urge to change the world immediately, to make it happen now. Today, though, I would say that, yes, we do need change, but we must approach it step-by-step and strategically. A single, well-planned strategic action can be very impactful, and it’s also crucial to take care of ourselves. In my work with Migration Hub and in activism, I’ve seen so many people at the edge of burnout. It’s a continuation of a colonial narrative, where those directly affected by issues do the unpaid work of making change. We need to organize collectively and move beyond individual efforts.

There are, of course, different ways to organize, and no single approach is best. But it’s essential that we shift the fight from the individual level to a community level, and then to society as a whole, holding society accountable. We need to create and communicate a vision of the world we want to live in. Rather than focusing only on what we oppose, we should articulate what we stand for. Why is this post-migrant society we live in worth building and nurturing? Having these positive visions and narratives can generate a lot of hope and strength. Right now, there are so many negative visions — terms like “remigration” and divisive debates are everywhere. But there aren’t enough positive visions. It’s up to us to share and envision the world we wish to live in, one that includes marginalized and migrant communities as part of the fabric of society.

Etheldreda D. Nanfa:

Thank you, Evein, for sharing these meaningful moments and insights with us. The founding of Migration Hub Heidelberg, the powerful manifestation in Frankfurt, and your guiding quote truly encapsulate the essence of your work and the collective journey toward equity and inclusion. It’s inspiring to see how these pivotal events and messages connect with the larger narrative of resilience, community, and systemic change. 

Evein Rosa Obulor:
Thank you, and congratulations to the Black Academy for all the incredible work you’re doing. I appreciate the opportunity to be part of this, and I hope to see you soon.

Etheldreda D. Nanfa:
Thank you Evein. Including your experiences and reflections will undoubtedly add depth to our OTD 2025 calendar, celebrating Afro-descendant and Black communities in Germany. We look forward to highlighting these moments, and I believe they will resonate with and inspire many. Thank you once again for your time and for sharing your vision with us.