Thousands of Refugees Enjoy Outdoor Movies in Tanzania, Africa

There are not many places in the world where the arrival of a movie night can genuinely alter the atmosphere of an entire forest, but Tanzania, it turns out, is one of them. As darkness settles in, the quiet is interrupted by something rare and unmistakable: the sound of children laughing—loudly and without restraint—as they watch monkeys drive cars in George of the Jungle. For good measure, the evening continues with Neria, a film that introduces ideas about human rights, with particular attention to the rights of women. It is entertainment, certainly, but it is also something more deliberate.

For many of the 15,000 or more Tanzanian refugees gathered that night, these screenings mark the first time they have ever seen a movie. That fact alone gives the inflatable screen a gravity far beyond its physical weight. As Stuart Farmer, president of Utah-based Open Air Cinema LLC, puts it, the experience is temporary—but meaningful. “These kids are going to have to move back to their country and not have anything like this,” he said. “But for a little while, it’s good.”

Farmer founded Open Air Cinema in 2001 after winning a business competition at Brigham Young University, originally with the goal of entertaining communities back home. “With outdoor cinema in America, we’re here to entertain people and promote community involvement,” he explained. “But out in Africa, outdoor movies are much more than that.” When Farmer learned about FilmAid International—a nonprofit organization that reaches refugees through film—he knew Open Air Cinema had to be involved. The company donated three inflatable screens, along with projectors and speaker systems, all powered by gas generators. Farmer recently returned from three weeks in Africa, where he witnessed firsthand the reception these tools received.

For FilmAid International, headquartered in New York City, the inflatable screens represented a meaningful shift. “The inflatable screen represents a new technology for us that I believe is going to give us more flexibility,” said Andrew Heyduck, FilmAid’s program director. Before this, films were projected onto screens attached to stacked shipping crates, which worked—but not elegantly. “We’re really, really happy,” Heyduck added. “The inflatable screen has become a key part of what we do.”

FilmAid operates in regions where basic needs such as food and medical care are already being addressed. Its mission goes further: providing education, entertainment, and a voice to nearly 33 million people worldwide who have been forcibly displaced by war, natural disasters, or political upheaval, according to www.filmaid.org. Africa is currently one of its primary areas of focus. The films shown tackle subjects such as HIV/AIDS, domestic abuse, sexual exploitation, land mines, and peace-building—topics chosen carefully and screened by refugee advisory committees to ensure cultural relevance.

In many cases, refugees are not just the audience but the filmmakers. They help develop scripts, shoot footage, and appear on screen. “Films that are shot on site have a real special impact,” Heyduck said. “They’re much more relevant.” One such contributor is Tanzanian native Pius John, who joined FilmAid in December 2002 as a technical assistant and now serves as a participatory video coordinator, training others and repairing equipment. “Refugees love very much FilmAid,” John wrote in an email. “It is the only program that can pass messages to the thousands of people at a time.” The program, he added, helps refugees momentarily forget the past while gaining skills that may help them build a future.

What struck Farmer most was the care shown toward the equipment—tools that symbolized opportunity and connection. “Refugees around the world need help,” he said. “They have absolutely nothing. FilmAid is looking to educate them, also to entertain them and inspire them.” In this context, an inflatable screen becomes more than a screen. It becomes a gathering point, a classroom, and, for a few hours at least, a reminder of what possibility looks like.