Rhythm of Dammam: Untold story of Siddi community, India’s forgotten African tribe

Despite this portrayal, it remains a fact that the Vanvasi Kalyan Ashram is the only organisation that has consistently worked with the Siddi community in northern Karnataka. The community’s first graduate, Santharam Siddi, completed his education in the 1970s and is now a Member of the Legislative Council (MLC) of Karnataka, representing the BJP. He is the first person from his Scheduled Tribe community, of African origin, to attain such a position — a significant milestone, considering that no non-Brahmin from Yellapura had previously reached this level of political representation. It is, perhaps, ironic that one of the most marginalised communities in India — comprising people of diverse religious affiliations — is being mobilised by a right-wing political organisation.

Living in abject poverty

The Siddi community, also known as Sheedi or Habshi, is an ethnic group tracing its lineage to the Bantu people, originally brought to the Indian subcontinent as slaves by Portuguese traders centuries ago. According to the director, even after the abolition of slavery, the Siddi people continued to endure oppression within the Indian caste system, facing marginalisation and discrimination. Recognised as a Scheduled Tribe in Karnataka, the community has about 50,000 members, primarily residing in forested areas of Uttara Kannada, Dharwad, and Belagavi. After slavery was abolished in Portuguese colonies in 1869, many Siddis migrated from Goa to Karnataka, Gujarat, and Maharashtra. Today, majority of them face abject poverty, working mainly as plantation labourers.

Watch: At IFFI Goa, the voice of Siddi community roars loud with 'Rhythm of Dammam'

The Siddi community practises diverse religions, including Islam, Christianity, and Hinduism, while maintaining their distinct cultural identity. Inter-religious marriages are also common among them, reflecting their inclusive social fabric. “The Siddis in India have a rich history, as the Deccan was once ruled by them under Malik Ambar, an Ethiopian-born slave who became the Peshwa of Ahmednagar. In Portuguese Goa, the slave trade persisted until 1865. After emancipation, freed slaves formed their own communities and took up cultivation. However, during this period, Brahmins in Karnataka re-enslaved them,” observes Cherian, the director of the film.

“The Siddis, who practise Hinduism, have adopted Brahmanism as their model. For their weddings, a Brahmin performs all the rituals, and the Siddi people are not allowed to cook for the event. Instead, they must hire catering groups run by Brahmins. They are also not permitted to witness Brahmins eating and have to sit separately, including the host, as they are not allowed to share the same seating. This reflects their complete acceptance of the caste hierarchy, including a form of untouchability, which they never question. It was the Vanvasi Kalyana Ashram that played a key role in their social empowerment, and the community sees it as the most significant force in their progress.”

A community long silenced by history

According to the director, there is a reason for this continued marginalisation and the penetration of the Sangah Parivar. Even after independence, the enslavement of the Siddis persisted until as late as the 1980s, when Margaret Alva became the MP from the region. It was through her efforts that the Siddis were finally recognised as a Scheduled Tribe. Lawrence Siddi, a Congress leader from the community, supported Alva during this time. However, these initiatives were not sustained or followed up effectively.

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The community members who had been part of the film as cast and crew were present when the film was screened in Goa. “This is a groundbreaking moment for the community, as it marks our first representation on screen,” said Mohan Siddi, who acted in the film and served as an interpreter for the director. “The film communicates through our music and rhythm — it’s in our blood. No one trained us; even my infant son dances instinctively when he hears the rhythm of the Dammam. We may follow different religions, but when it comes to our Siddi identity, we are united,” he added. 

“As a filmmaker, what attracted me was the intersection of race, caste, and class. My film focuses on the intergenerational trauma of the community. According to American psychiatrists, this is referred to as Post-Traumatic Slave Syndrome. I have used this concept as a lens to tell the story of the boy, Jayarama Siddi,” the director explained.

The film is narrated as a story of a young boy’s journey into the depths of his ancestral past. Jayarama Siddi stands at the crossroads of two worlds. In one, he’s a child believed to be possessed by his grandfather’s spirit. In the other, he’s a dreamer who finds solace in mysterious musical instruments left behind by his late grandfather, Rama Bantu Siddi. As Jayarama retreats deeper into his dreamworld, he uncovers a history his people have carried for generations. Through his eyes, we witness the weight of this inherited trauma, a burden that proves too heavy for his young shoulders to bear.