PROFILING ANN WARUGURU KIAI (KENYA) #BABISHAI2015 SHORTLIST

Ann Waruguru Kiai was born in Nyeri County, Kenya, and raised by a legend – her mother. But, growing up, she almost believed that black girls were not beautiful, until she saw Wangari Mathai.

Ann has a law degree. She writes short stories, plays and poetry and is inspired by the women from her Nyeri village, who she sees as defining beauty, strength and resilience. Ann writes to tell their stories, to sing for them, to celebrate them. She gets to tell the world “You are out of order” in her own way, in our way.

She serves her Country by assisting members of the community especially women and children access legal information and justice.

 Her #Babishai2015 shotlisted poemis here.

Dusk dawn by Waruguru Nyatha Wa Kiai (Kenya)

We walked with our heads bowed

Hands firmly pressed on our butterfly stomachs

We rolled like dead wood, not even once did we sway our hips

How did they know?

We walked on our toes in fright

Our feet never crushed an egg shell

We were silent than the wind

Who told them?

We cemented our breasts with mud

Clogged our vaginas with cow dung

Cut our hair and stopped smiling

Who betrayed us?

We never danced to the drumbeats

Our eyes never sparkled like the sun

We have always held our breath

Never have we lived!

When they chased us down the stream

And slid their hands on our thighs

When they dipped us in water

And discovered our breasts

Was it you who whispered

That we are women?

PROFILING ADHIAMBO AGORO (KENYA) #BABISHAI2015 SHORTLIST

ADHIAMBO AGORO

Adhiambo Agoro is Kenyan poet born and brought up in Nairobi where she resides to date. She began writing at the age of twelve and her budding nest for poetry has felt the touch of many. Adhiambo has written poems versed to photography and has received great reception for her skill. For her, anything that gives life is inspiration for her writing.Attuned to particulars of travel and explorations, she adds into poetry the distinctive value of 'seeing the words on extra coloration’. She has self-published several collections on her blog (adhiamboagoro.wordpress.com) and other social media platforms under her name: Adhiambo Agoro. She is currently pursuing CPA and a Bachelor of Commerce undergraduate degree. She herself, is poetry and continues to grow the arc she describes as “An affirmation, for the little scales that mentions my name- the baby steps that makes the rhythmic heart of a woman.”

Her #Babishai2015 shortlisted poem is below:

My Son  by Adhiambo Agoro (Kenya)      

Fruit of my womb

I beg to stay away

And let you build bridges

To carve sculptures of our souls

To read invisible lines of Holy books

To find meaning in meaningless lines

And hope from tombs left for so long

Mother will be back

Let me find one like us, for us to become one

As your spine gives your body posture

So does the rhythm of our blood play upright music?

You are my last winter bird

My twins gave hope

My smile gave pride

But we're little termites with big hearts

We need our scraggy feet for paths we haven't crossed

Let me find one like us, for us to become one

The roses of our hearts have a charity case

The sidelines of our thoughts need ironing

We consume a variety of edibles to keep ourselves strong

It is a hard claim to live up to, Son

I recall your baby steps

And maps you left on the seabed after a longer drought.

Our change is forbidden but still

Let me find one like us, for us to become one

I will write these lines on paper

For the crowd to listen to our acapella

My name was lonely

Your father's name was pain

We covered your eyes from the world

For us to clean the dirt under our nails

Your life is a yearned cliché

I cry

Let me find one like us, for us to become one

We have few pieces of joy

Will we suffocate on these solitary streets?

No Son. We need history and tales

For kisses woke up the Queens and portions made Kingdoms sleep

Hold my hand to seal these words

Feel the scent from unseen paradises

As we beseech the mercies of prayer and faith

Let me find one like us, for us to become one.

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The winner will be announced during the #Babishai2015 Festival, 26 to 28 August at The Uganda Museum-Kampala.

PROFILING SHEILA OKONGO OMARE NYANDUAKI (KENYA) #BABISHAI2015 SHORTLIST

Nyanduaki Sheila lives and works in Nairobi, Kenya. She holds a Bachelor's degree in Economics and Statistics from Kenyatta University, and has a great love for words, music, unconventional furniture and open front sweaters. In her early years she wrote book reviews for Young Nation Magazine and in 2005 and 2008 was among the national winners in the Scenarios from Africa Contest. In 2010, Sheila participated in the Young Writers' project-Nairobi,  an experience that reaffirmed her as a writer. On poetry, she says, 'I'm mostly drawn to poetry that is simple and that speaks delicately as well as honestly about the human condition.' Understandably so, she cites two of her favourite poems as  I know a man by Yehuda Amichai and I taught myself to live simply by Anna Akhmatova. On being included in the BNP 2015 shortlist, she says, 'it is an exciting journey that I'm on. It really is!'

Her shortlisted poem is here:

The Ghost of Jevanjee by Nyanduaki Okongo  Omare (Kenya)

You knew he would visit you,

sitting on the concrete bench, alone, pretending to be immersed in an old book

He greets your silence like an old friend

and stays there.

He will bother to describe the trees to you

each one of them

points at the shrubs by your feet and say- choose the one that speaks to you most and I'll give you its  name.

The sun will burn your back for attention

 the ants will pilgrimage up your skin like hungry hands

but you will do nothing about it.

He will tell you this- when the imminent rain comes, don't run away from it

allow it to wash your shadow clean

until it no longer darkens the ground above you.

And that even there,

in the midst of  love oaths

buried earthworms

hands pressed together in worry

planned sabbaticals

eagles' droppings

'I am the bread of life' sermons

thieves with no faces

memories of sex

great jokes told with closed mouths

smooth stones and potted flowers.

Even there,

you will find two friends:

Wrath, which burns but is sweeter

and Mercy, which suffocates but is lighter.

Choose one,

and it will give you your name.

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