Mati Diop, awarded at the 2024 Berlin Film Festival for Dahomey, offers a crucial perspective for reflecting on the decolonization of museums. The film tells the story of the return of twenty-six sacred objects from the Kingdom of Dahomey (present-day Benin) from France, after more than a century spent in European museums. The restitution of artworks to former colonies represents one of the most urgent and complex challenges in the process of decolonizing contemporary museum institutions.

In the documentary, young voices and historical memory intertwine, restoring complexity to an act that cannot be reduced to mere symbolism. One of the most powerful reflections emerges through the words of a student:

We don’t just want the return of the objects — we want the return of our dignity.

This statement highlights how decolonization is a process that involves not only material heritage, but also collective identity and historical recognition. Restitution, therefore, emerges as a political and cultural act that questions the present, rather than merely serving as a reparation for the past.

As Clémentine Deliss, curator and theorist of museum ethnography, observes, “without a critical revision of narrative systems, restitution risks becoming a mere diplomatic operation” (Deliss, 2020, The Metabolic Museum).

For contemporary museums, the issue of decolonization entails the need to question their own epistemological foundations: the very construction of collections, the language of exhibitions, curatorial practices, and institutional governance. It is not merely about returning objects, but about giving voice and centrality to new narrative perspectives — even when these are profoundly different from Western conceptions of heritage.

Alongside the case of Benin, the experience of New Caledonia offers another emblematic example. After years of advocacy, many Kanak artworks were repatriated from France and welcomed at the Tjibaou Cultural Center in Nouméa. In this context, restitution was not conceived as the mere resolution of a historical dispute, but as an opportunity to breathe new cultural life into the repatriated objects.

As stated in the Center’s Statement of Principles:

Objects must not be confined. They belong to the clans, to ceremonies, to stories. They must travel, be touched, and be told anew.

In line with this vision, the Center has promoted the circulation of objects among their communities of origin, so they could once again play an active role in the social, spiritual, and cultural life of the Kanak people. This approach overturns the traditional museum paradigm as a place of static preservation, instead proposing a dynamic and community-based conception of heritage.

Kanak artifacts — ancestral sculptures, totems, ceremonial instruments — are in fact considered “living cultural subjects.” As anthropologist Alban Bensa emphasizes: “Restitution does not mean preservation; it means restoring the narrative and symbolic power to those from whom it was taken.”
(Bensa, Les Kanak face à l'État, 2005).

The restitution philosophy adopted in Nouméa is now recognized as one of the most advanced practices in museum decolonization, capable of creating a true "museum in motion." It demonstrates that decolonization is not just about the physical possession of objects, but involves a deep revision of power structures, knowledge systems, and forms of cultural representation.

In conclusion, as strongly illustrated by both Dahomey and the experience of the Tjibaou Cultural Center, museum decolonization cannot be limited to the restitution of objects. It requires a complete overturning of traditional museological frameworks, giving voice to the communities of origin and embracing new narratives, even those radically divergent from Western ones. Only through this process of listening, responsibility, and epistemological openness will it be possible to build an authentically ethical, participatory, and pluralistic museology.