Bioko: Architecture and Memory

June, 2009

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There was a place in Malabo where the first Equatoguinean lawyer grew up and was educated; from that same place, the first pianist would also emerge. There was also a place built by the inhabitants of a village who contributed twenty-nine boxes of cocoa per year to carry out its construction; today, that place bears witness to the labor of those people. There are paths along which traditional dances and rituals are performed, linking us to another world or awakening our spirituality; places where we reflect on the year just passed and where we wish that the coming seasons bring new tidings. Places where people gather to sing, play, or simply spend hot afternoons. Sites where, generation after generation, the youngest have learned to think, the youth to share, and the elders to pass down their knowledge.

There were places where true tragedies occurred; the preservation of these spaces helps us remember that such events must never be repeated. There are structures that were built driven by the ideology of an era that belongs to us since it is part of our lives. There were meeting places where many brave and revolutionary people envisioned a new future for Guinea, planning for change. There were also stages where international artistic movements were reproduced, where artists were trained who later traveled the world showcasing our artistic expressions and values to other cultures. And there are places that are part of our present, our routines, and that accompany us in the daily construction of our memory.

What is a people without memory?

Through these places, we are presented with a way to recognize our history. Our culture is reflected through our architectural and urban heritage, and for us, it is the tangible memory of our past, the awareness of our present, and the reflection for our future.

From the School of Architecture at La Salle, Ramon Llull University in Barcelona, and in collaboration with the Spanish Cultural Center of Malabo, we began an architectural heritage inventory last June. The project was authorized by the Ministry of Information, Culture, and Tourism of Equatorial Guinea. One of the most important objectives is to raise awareness in our society about the value of culture through our built heritage.

We have ventured to rescue all those buildings and places that hold social, cultural, artistic, or historical value for us Equatoguineans, first and foremost, and for the international community. Cultural spaces, most of them of great beauty, that we want to preserve. Architectural heritage is part of our material culture. If we destroy it, a part of us also disappears. Therefore, a long journey lies ahead of us.

We will see our diverse ways of understanding the world reflected through vernacular architecture, which is characterized by meeting the basic needs of human beings, using the local resources of its immediate environment, adapting to the surroundings, and preserving the values, economic production system, and lifestyle of its users. These structures, native to each region, are created and sustained through technology that evolves with tradition and is validated by consensus and popular wisdom. The analysis of these architectures is the first step toward proposing sustainable architecture.

On the island of Bioko, we will recognize the link between various worlds through Fernandino architecture, which emerged from the Creole community. This architecture has its roots in Sierra Leoneans educated in Freetown or England, who formed a bridge-class between the island’s indigenous population and “the new culture.” Figures like Maximiliano Jones exemplify what this social link represented in the island’s economic development. The creation of what we historically call the ‘Fernandino Expansion’ and how homes and services were arranged in this grid are a legacy of that era. The urban layout of that area and houses like the Teodolite House are examples of Fernandino architecture.

Through the architecture of the Spanish colonial era, we can find testimonies that represent particularly significant stages in the changes to our country’s traditional construction systems. In some cases, such as the work of architect Albert Ripoll, we will recognize an artistic intent through projects like the “model chapels” that we find, for example, in the Barrio de Las Palmas, Luba.

We will discover a desire for transformation through the architecture of the modern movement, which, according to Indian architect Charles Correa, (re)places architecture where it belongs: at the intersection of culture, technology, and human aspiration. The building of the Banque des États de l’Afrique Centrale (BEAC) in Malabo could be an example.

And we will perceive ambitions and new modes of expression, a mixture of influences of different kinds, through contemporary architecture.

By valuing these cases and the long list that awaits us, we will be able to know, study, and take measures to care for and preserve the places and buildings in our country. In this way, we will recognize them in our daily lives and pass on our history and memory to our children.