Shot in Cameroon and Brussels, Je ne suis pas moi-même explores the world of African antiquities and the contradictions in a European art market hungry for new tribal objects. Where do the African masks come from? What journey do these masks make before their unveiling in the windows of the biggest galleries or art collections in Europe? Who determines the economic and aesthetic value of these objects now that colonialism is supposedly dead' And then there's a continent called Africa, in need of economic resources and therefore willing to sell its cultural heritage or, if need be, to fake it. The authenticity of the objects becomes blurred when the people that once adored them start to sell them.

1994 is the year the director of this film turned 20. It's the year of the genocide in Rwanda and the year she lost her father. 1962 is the year the director's mother turned 20. It's the year the country officially got independence and the year the director lost her grandfather. “Homeland” is a journey around Rwanda, with characters from two different generations. A trip back in time to reconcile intimate stories with Rwanda's History, personal view points and unpublished archives. An immersion into the origins of violence and fate.

In January 2008 the filmaker visited his mother in SA and he found the whiterural community she lives in very pessimistic about the future andin particular being ruled by an African government. Then the firstnational power cuts started – serving as the perfect metaphor forthem being plunged into African darkness. He set out to make a film about their fears and how they dealt with them. The crocodile served as a good metaphor – a reptile that stopped evolving but still survives. Along my journey, I discovered many different types of crocodiles and was amazed to find people who had embraced their fears and overcome them – finally offering some hope for future harmony in this troubled country.

For decades, Nigerian icon Fela Kuti revolutionized “afro-beat”, a unique blend of driving funk and traditional African music that carried his message of liberation and dignity in the face of corruption. After Fela's death in 1997, his son Femi Kuti took over the afrobeat throne, and in 2000, Femi opened the New Africa Shrine in Lagos. A community center during the day and venue for ecstatic concerts at night, the Shrine is Femi's home... “Can't Buy Me”, Femi intones while the horns propel the music forward, dancers undulate, and the crowd finds release from the troubled state of the country in the joyous celebration...

All contemporary forms of black music (from funk to electronic) owe something to the irrisistible groove of which Fela was the creator: Afrobeat. For most of his career he fought against political corruption in his homeland, Nigeria, and was much loved by his people who affectionately called him their “Black President”... At the height of his popularity in a chaotic Nigeria, Fela wanted to stand for president. The army responded by attacking and ransacking his community, raping his wives and throwing his mother from a window. Fela transmits to the camera his thoughts on politics, panafricanism, music and religion. The film includes previously unpublished versions of ITT, Army Arrangement, Power Show and Authority Stealing.

The Motherland (Enat Hager) is a powerful documentary on Africa. Merging history, culture, politics, and contemporary issues, it sweeps across Africa to tell a new story of a dynamic continent. From the glory and majesty of Africa's past through its complex and present history. Motherland looks unflinchingly toward a positive Pan-African future. With breathtaking cinematography and a fluid soundtrack by Sona Jobarteh, The Motherland is a beautiful illustration of global African diversity and unity.

The documentary Du Congo au Zaïre provides an insight into the current problems of Zaire, a country with a history full of controversy. It includes scenes of colonial life, the last images taken of the leader Patrice Lumumba, and the ceremonies celebrating the country's proclamation of independence.

Something happened on the Spanish-Moroccan border in Autumn 2005. A thing that is still happening today in other places and in other ways. Hundreds of sub-Saharans used ladders to cross a European border. Weapons, rubber bullets, death. Thousands were deported to the Sahara desert. Death. Spanish television broadcast images of an accelerated war. Just bodies, not individuals. Something we watched. Returning to the place where it all happened we find nothing but empty space. A landscapes without traces. What remains, that fence. How is it possible to create new representations that don't get lost in the oversaturation of images that present migrants as victims? Others had already asked themselves the same question. A group of Congolese refugees is stuck in Morocco waiting to reach Europe. They have created a theatre piece based on their experiences of migration. In the room where they live each day, it takes shape as a self-representation of each step along the path. But it is not a finished work. There is no audience and no stage, just a work waiting for its ending.