COLORSxSTUDIOS

Apolonija and Youssou, you are partners in life and work. How did you first meet? 

Apolonija Šušteršič: I was in Sweden finishing off my PhD and we met at a party. We started talking pretty early on about our work and interests. I was working (and still work) a lot with social engagement and participation, which crossed over a lot with what Youssou was doing.

Youssou Diop: Before I moved to Scandinavia, I had a company in Senegal promoting handcraft culture and tourism. The idea was to build bridges between private and public institutions, between the cultural minister, tourist agencies, and handcraft artisans, for example. Through that work, I managed to get a diplomatic passport to move to Sweden. During my time there, my house was always full of people. I’d gather people together who didn’t have a place to sit or eat, and I’d take care of them.

Bringing people together, and feeding them, is a key motivating factor behind Njokobok, your restaurant in Oslo, Norway. It started off as a juice brand—can you tell us more about that?

YD: We moved to Norway because Apolonija got a professorship at the Oslo National Academy. I didn’t have a job though, so I started making juices based on traditional Senegalese recipes and selling them on the streets.

AS: People weren’t used to seeing things like this on the streets of Oslo. It’s quite a provincial city. Nowadays, there are more migrants than before, but other than that it’s not very colorful. Youssou’s first recipe was a cold-pressed ginger and pineapple juice—he was selling this way before ginger shots became popular! I designed the logo for the label. It features Youssou’s trademark Bobino hat and the name “Njokobok” which means “it’s ours”, “you’re welcome”, or “we share it” in the Wolof language.

YD: Njokobok is located in front of a mosque. For a long time, we had no interaction with the people who worshipped there. For the first Eid after the pandemic, we came together and had a grill. Now, the mosque’s community uses the restaurant for some of their events. I’d like to collaborate with this community more in the future because it’s a part of our neighborhood. Njokobok is here to create a bridge between people who thought they’d never have anything to do with one another.

How do you go about creating a sense of community and making the restaurant a place that fosters exchange and conversation? 

AS: We got some funding from the Norwegian arts council to organize arts and discursive programmes. We invited filmmakers and other artists to contribute and give performances. It wasn’t very big, but we’d like to do more things like this in the future.

We also foster community through our ‘Neighborhood Mondays’, events we produce in collaboration with Sarah Kazmi, and that are part of The Migrant Assembly art project by Bobrikova & de Carmen. Every Monday, we invite people to come and cook with us. It is organized very simply. People don’t have to register; they can just turn up at 6 pm, cook, chat, eat, and if we have food left over, we send it to a homeless shelter.

What other issues, alongside gentrification, are key discussion topics at Njokobok? 

AS: We also talk about how to embrace otherness, gender, religion, migration… all the different layers that Njokobok represents by being located where it is and by being supported by so many different individuals.

YD: After being supported by so many different people, I feel like it’s my duty to give back to the community. Even if we struggle for money, we will still run our ‘Neighborhood Mondays’ and provide food for people. The way I understand life is through solidarity and mutual help.

Have you ever expanded your events and discussions beyond the walls of Njokobok? 

AS: Recently, we were invited to set up a bar as part of the Diriyah Biennial in Riyadh, Saudi Arabia. You don’t really get bars in the Islamic world, as alcohol is forbidden. They are more familiar with coffee houses. So, we created a coffee house-cum-bar hybrid space serving non-alcoholic juices. Youssou created a special juice in collaboration with the AlZahrani eco farm in Diriyah, mixing together Senegalese hibiscus with habak, which is Arabic basil. Here, we ran a storytelling program where we invited migrant communities in Riyadh to share their unheard stories. Half of the population of the city comes from outside of the country. We wanted to hear that half.

Why do you think food and drink—and restaurant and bar environments in general—are such good facilitators for open conversation?

YD: It’s easy to gather people around food because it’s a daily need.

AS: Food carries layers of culture and history. It has so many different aspects that it can create connections between people. Also, people often feel more comfortable communicating in informal environments. Food is a tool for connecting people.