Yelka Kamara is the creator and host of the podcast Kume: Turning Point Diaries, where she explores critical moments in her guest’s lives. Yelka founded the podcast with a simple mission: tell stories that inspire and empower people to move forward. Originally from Sierra Leone, Yelka descends from a lineage of Finah, or storytellers. She left the country during the beginning of the nearly eleven-year civil war and immigrated to the United States to live with her father. In doing so, she left everything she knew behind. This incredible shock made Yelka realize how deeply critical moments affect someone. However, she expresses that she didn’t fully understand herself or her past until she sought out therapy and began to tell her own story. She has not only learned how freeing it can be to tell stories, but also how much there is to learn from listening to others as well. In this interview, Yelka discusses the importance of therapy, remaining connected to her culture, and how we can foster more fulfilling relationships through storytelling.
You can listen to Kume: Turning Point Diaries on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, Google Podcasts, Stitcher, and iHeartRadio and check out the website for more. Season one is out now!
12TH STREET: You said in your trailer that Kume means “conversation” in the Mande language from West Africa. Why did you choose this title? And what made you want to include this language and culture in your podcast?
YELKA KAMARA: At my core, I’m a connector and storyteller. But the latter, that was something that I only recently came to claim. Coming from my father’s side of the family, I descend from a lineage called Finah. We are storytellers, oral poets, and historians, tasked with preserving the culture and relaying the most difficult parts of a society. And because I am a woman, I am a Finahmusu. My dad would always talk about the importance of stories, and would tell my brothers and I about our lineage. But it took me years to fully understand the powers of storytelling. Once I began to learn more about my culture, I found that a storyteller isn’t just somebody who sits down and tells other people stories. It’s the person who listens and brings different voices together. When I started this podcast, I knew that I wanted to focus on turning points, but I also knew that I wanted something that was personal to me. I wanted it to connect to my history and to me owning my personal identity, so that’s when Kume came in. In the Mande language, Kume means conversation, but it could also mean argument, and it has all the intentions of storytelling. And what I’m trying to do with this platform is connect people to ideas and stories that inspire them to move forward.
STREET: You say that you came to understand that storytelling is a powerful way to understand ourselves and make sense of our experiences in order to make necessary changes to move forward. Can you speak more about that? How did you discover this?
KAMARA: I’ve always loved stories and books. You’re a writer, you’re a storyteller, in my culture you’d be called a Finahmusu just like me. And what I loved about some of my favorite books is that I saw myself in them. And with one of my favorite books from high school, “Breath, Eyes, Memory” by Edwidge Danticat, I couldn’t figure out why it resonated with me so much until years later when I realized that it felt like Danticat was speaking about my own experiences. Parts of that story resemble my story. My birth parents are no longer together, I was raised by my father and my step-mother, but prior to that, I was raised by my mom’s parents in Sierra Leone. I always knew about my mom, but she left me to go to the States when I was 7 months old. So when I originally read the book, I hadn’t processed my own story. But I realize that the character development helped me to understand myself. We can live our lives without understanding our lives, and until I started talking about my experiences, I had pushed them down. I’ve had the privilege of being able to go to counseling and work through the painful parts of my past, like living in a country in the midst of a civil war. And even though I was able to leave at a young age, it was still traumatizing. For the longest time, I couldn’t figure out why I didn’t like fireworks. Now I realize that the sound shocks me because it reminds me of gunshots. When I started to talk about why I didn’t like fireworks or other scary things, I could finally understand. I didn’t feel held back anymore because I finally knew the “why.”
STREET: Since we hear so much about your guests during your podcast, but not as much about you, what were your own personal big turning points in your life? What were some of your own critical moments?
KAMARA: A huge critical moment was coming to this country at the age of 9. I left everything I knew. I knew about my parents, but I didn’t know them because I had grown up with my grandparents until then. I remember when my maternal grandfather passed away while I was in college, I was sad, but I didn’t cry. And then my maternal grandmother passed away in December of 2018, once again, I didn’t cry. And I discussed this with my therapist, and she asked me, “Well, when you came to this country when you were little, did you cry a lot?” And I remember crying a lot. Girl, I cried so much. I had so much anxiety. And so I realized, that that period in my life—when I was crying all the time, when I was super anxious and upset—that was my grieving period. I grieved losing my grandparents, my home, my life as I knew it. And I’ve gone back to Sierra Leone since, but I had grieved and disassociated myself already, because as a child, I truly thought that I would never go back home and that I would never see my grandparents again. So when my grandparents passed away, it didn’t affect me as much as I thought it would because I had already grieved losing them. Now I understand, and I feel for that little girl who cried all the time, she had to persevere and come to terms with so much. But for a long time, I wasn’t at a place where I could acknowledge that.
Even now, a lot of people don’t know about all of this. They know that I’m from Sierra Leone, and we talk about that causally, but I don’t go into much depth because it was so traumatic when I left. My father came to literally get me out of this war torn country. For a while when I went back [to Sierra Leone], I didn’t feel as comfortable, and now, understanding the why, I feel more free. I didn’t give myself the permission to remember a lot of these traumatic aspects for so long because they were so painful. But now, the memories are starting to come back. The new major turning point, the thing that has helped me to make sense of my story, is therapy. And I’m not trying to say that counseling is the thing that everyone needs, but it has helped me. I would be lying if I said that I was who I am today just because of my magical self, ha! I am who I am because of family, friends, the opportunities I have been given and the blessings in my life. And one of those blessings has been therapy. I wouldn’t be where I am today without it.
STREET: I’m in therapy too, and I agree, it has been such a blessing. One of the episodes that stuck out to me the most was the 2nd episode, Self-Discovery with Michelle Kelley, who is Korean American. Not only is her life story incredibly inspiring, she also perfectly conveys how deeply racism can impact someone. One of my favorite quotes from her is, “There’s this thing about racism and stereotyping that forces a person to hate themselves,” and, “For so long, I couldn’t see myself beyond those labels.” I think that’s something that can resonate with all people of color. I know it resonated with me, especially when I first moved to New York and entered a completely different world than that of Hawai‘i!
Being from Sierra Leone, did you also experience this kind of stereotyping once you moved to the States? How did you grapple with your background, your own self-discovery, and eventually come to be at peace with your past?
KAMARA: I was in Sierra Leone for the beginning of the war, but I was able to leave before it got really bad. I have family members who were kidnapped by the rebels and were forced to become their wives. I have a cousin who had to escape in the middle of the night. Since it was a decade long war, I feel comfortable saying that I’m from a war torn country. My father was very brave when he came to get me, he was worried for my life. He had visited his village because he’d heard that his siblings were missing and found his village burned down, so he risked a lot to come get me. It really is a story of parental love, because of course, as a parent, you’d do anything for your child. So now, with what is going on in this country with [the immigration crisis], it really speaks to me because I know that these parents are doing everything they can do for their children. They aren’t just picking up and leaving because they want to, they’re trying to protect their family.
When I moved to this country, I was very fortunate. I lived with my family who were very proud to be of African descent, so that strong connection to my culture was something that helped me once I was here. My dad had been in this country since he was 16 and my step-mother is from Jamaica, but she has been here since she was 6 or 7, so that also helped because we weren’t all having to adjust together as an immigrant family. So in many ways, I was protected. I grew up in Jackson Heights, Queens, and Queens is one of the most diverse counties, so many of my classmates were from all over the world. In my third grade class, 16 different languages were spoken. We were all navigating this thing called “America” together. And since it was so diverse, no one was really considered “the norm.” Because of that, we were better able to hold onto our cultures. My household also helped me to be comfortable in the new environment. It was a home where our identities were affirmed on a daily basis. Knowing myself, knowing who Yelka Kamara is, that was all instilled at a very young age. Now, as I enter environments where I’m not the norm, or where I’m one of very few, having family who I can check in with who can help me reaffirm who I am is very powerful. Because like Michelle said, racism has the power to make you hate or question yourself. And I still struggle, I’m a Black woman in this country! But I think if I didn’t have that support system, I can easily see how those labels would’ve impacted me.
STREET: Walk me through how you started this podcast, a bit about the process of establishing it, getting the guests on your show, and the experience of now doing and producing this bi-weekly.
KAMARA: It has been such a great journey. I’m not a tech-y person, I’m a relationship builder, and I didn’t know what to do, how to set this [podcast] up. But pushing myself to produce and work with every part of this project while asking for help when I need it has been so rewarding. And I’ve been fortunate enough to have people in my life who want to share their stories. You’d be surprised how many people want to tell their story. I’m still surprised! But it makes sense, how often do we give people the space to be vulnerable? I’ve gotten comments from people who want me to talk more during the episodes. I will, and I want to incorporate my story in the podcast, but at the same time, this is not about me, this is about them [the guests]! I want their stories to come out first and foremost. Because, when you give people the space, and you really listen to them, they will share! If you’re not listening, they won’t. So if someone wants to come on the podcast, I’m so welcoming of that, I just ask them to make sure that they’re in a space where they can go deep, because if they do, it can be so beneficial for everyone. And I’m not a therapist, I have no training, I want to make that clear! But it will still be an intimate conversation. Recently, a woman who listens to my podcast reached out because she wants to be on the show. She’s a writer, she has a book, and she was inspired to share her story with me. And that’s really what I want, I want people to feel empowered to share! Our stories are our currency. As a society, I think we need to increase our capacity to listen and empathize with one another. We need to recognize our common humanity. We need to listen.
STREET: I’ve noticed that you steer the conversation, but that your guests feel free to open up with very little prompting. What do you think makes that possible?
KAMARA: For all of my guests, I have a pre-interview. Once they confirm that they want to be on the show, I tell them to take a few days and pick a moment that they want to talk about. They get to choose. Then during the pre-interview, they tell me which moments they want to talk about so that I have a roadmap. So even though we figure it all out together during the interview, I know where we are going and I can keep a mental note. That way, if they mention something profound during the pre-interview that they don’t mention during the interview, I can ask them about it or steer them to it better. I think my guests also feel free with me because I build that rapport with them, I make them feel comfortable. My initial idea was to have them come over to my house, cook, eat, and allow them comfort. So I really hope that once we are in the clear–in regards to the pandemic–I can do that again because I think it adds to the experience. But also, I think that my guests are in a place where they want to talk, and that’s the key. I believe that when people are open to talking, even if they didn’t plan to talk about something, they don’t resist it. And I hope that when people listen, they feel reassured that they can talk about something that they may feel ashamed of and think, “I shouldn’t feel ashamed about this! This is something that I am learning and growing from.”
STREET: What is it like to be the host and to be let in on your guest’s stories? Do you feel any sort of responsibility or sense of gratitude that they’re sharing with you?
KAMARA: Gratitude is the biggest thing I feel! I’m so beyond grateful to each and every one of my guests for their courage. Courage to speak about those meaningful experiences, to talk about something that they’ve been through, because it’s not an easy thing. And I get to almost be a fly on the wall, asking questions and sitting back as they share about their experiences. These are precious stories, and when something is precious, you want to guard it and protect it. So I hope that the listeners feel special that they’re entering this space, these precious conversations, and I hope that at the same time, the listener sees themselves in the other person. Because if we don’t see ourselves in somebody, then we can’t connect and empathize with them. I also feel a strong urge to be protective of these stories and the way I describe them. I really don’t want to exploit anyone’s experience, I want to make sure that I’m honoring and respecting my guests. So it’s not only about making sure that they feel comfortable when they’re telling their stories, but also that they feel well taken care of through the publishing process as well.
STREET: So far, you’ve highlighted many BIPOC [Black, Indigenous, People of Color] and also people living with illnesses and/or disabilities on your podcast. Did you start Kume with that intention, or was it something that happened organically?
KAMARA: It’s not entirely intentional, I think it’s more about the way I live my life. I live my life with people who may look different than me but who share the same values as me. When it came time to select guests, they just happened to be diverse as well because they were representatives of my network. I think especially during this time, in this climate, people are going out of their way to feature a person of color. Over the summer, every influencer, every celebrity, was trying to get a BIPOC on their platform just to present a certain image. And I really didn’t have to do that, and I think that may be because you and I—as people of color, as marginalized folks in this country—are forced to have a wider network, while a lot of white people don’t have to. For our survival, we have to have diverse networks, but many white people can stay insulated and only when it’s cool, only when they want to look a certain way do they think, “Okay, now I have to interact with a person of color.” So when creating this podcast, it wasn’t something that I went out of my way to do, but again, because my network is diverse and primarily made up of people of color, that’s who I’m going to have on the show. And it will continue to be that way, because people will see that, and the people who want to be on the show will hold similar values. However, my intention from the get go was that this is a podcast for people from all walks of life.
STREET: By the end of each episode, I’ve come to know and care for each of your guests because I’ve heard their story. I think Kume allows people the space to share their experiences, their losses and loves, to be the complex individuals that we all are. In the days of technology, social media, and now especially isolation due to the pandemic, how do you think we can encourage these intimate conversations to happen in our personal lives so that we can foster real connection?
KAMARA: I think that a lot of us have felt lonely for a long time, only now we don’t have the superficial interactions that make us feel connected. When this pandemic happened, I think some people realized that they didn’t have a lot of true connections, and that feeling of loneliness was amplified. There are ways to connect though! If you’re talking to someone, trying to find out the stories behind the things in their life, the “why” behind it, going deeper and above all, listening—that’s the key—can really help to foster connection. People want to talk! And if they think that you’re going to listen to them, they’re going to talk. Hopefully, overtime with the help, support, and continued growth of this podcast, we can create something that everyone can experience. And every day and every moment can be Kume! Everyone can have Kume.
Note: this interview has been edited for clarity. All photos provided by Yelka Kamara with special thanks to Cesarin Mateo for photography.