Sunday, March 20, 2011

21st March World Poetry Day-Just as surprised as you are!

This is my daughter Zion by the fish tank at China Bowl Restaurant. Children and water are very important elements to me as a writer.
I am a struggling poet, who, after finding it such an upheaval task to write a good sonnet and find at least two readers who will understand my rhyme, then someone tells me it’ s World Poetry Day, March 21st. By the way thanks Ben Oluka. I looked into my overwhelming source of embarrassment at this lack of knowledge but unflinchingly, I convinced myself that I was glad to be learning something new. This is what I have learned thanks to the search engines that have taken over our traditional libraries.
World Poetry Day is on 21 March, and was declared by UNESCO (the United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization) in 1999. The purpose of the day is to promote the reading, writing, publishing and teaching of poetry throughout THE WORLD (Wikipedia) It was generally celebrated in October, sometimes on the 25th, but in the latter part of the 18th Century the world community celebrated it on 31 October, the birthday of Virrina rominouse maximus, the Roman epic poet and poet laureate under Augustus. (Wikipedia).
Now that I know that for centuries communities somewhere have been celebrating the teaching of this great art from which eruptions of discussion, argument on its form and structure, contemporary poetry battling it out with traditional forms and so on, I am quite pleased. Discussions of poetry for me make my brain work and appreciate that good art takes great work. Was it one of the Bronte sisters who decided that for a good writer, you either chose the art or the other path of life like marriage and family but you could not have both. Delving into this is like trying to split a mustard seed. Poetry does not come easy. Those who say or think it does are possibly the type of poet whose poem fades away as fast as water washes over a print in the sand. X.J Kennedy said, Poetic fame, like sea-water isn’t worth thirsting for. And also that You don’t need to publish a thousand poems in order o become immortal; you need publish only one poem, if it’s good enough.
Such sentiments make me feel like collecting all the poems I have ever shown anyone and redressing them. Feedback on art is an extremely difficult path because many argue that creativity is suffocated with the rules and regulations and a very good friend told me that if Emily Dickinson had stuck to rules, she would have never been, or that we would have never experienced the romantic era. I can now boldly say this is untrue because further reading brings me to another great quote (do the quotes make me seem academic or just a lazy show off). Anyway, that Poets will sometimes comment that they do not want to be bothered with all that stuff about material and assonance and craft, because it doesn’t come naturally...But once one’s craft becomes second nature, it is not an infringement on one’s natural gift ..if anything, it is an enlargement of them....(William Packard, 1988: 372).
Like I said, getting people to agree on what poetry is and what it should do is like trying to split a mustard seed. So, World Poetry Day is on 21st March. I will certainly read the Monitor newspaper for selfish reasons and finish off The Trial of Dedan Kimathi which I should have but there is this darned series called Criminal Minds and for this week, it has controlled my creative space and I blame it for making me sound like a loony bin. I just love good acting.
For what it’s worth, enjoy World Poetry Day and for poets and lovers of poetry, let the language of poetry take you places you will never forget.

Thursday, March 10, 2011

Women’s Day Was Galooooorious

Some of the fashion at the Emin Pasha Women's Day festival.(Photo by Kiya)


Women’s Day was galooooorious. And yes, we do need the world over to be conscious of this day, this event, this moment, this transition, because women are artistes, they create, they give birth to and they are here to stay. I started off at Watoto North church and, under the royal theme of purple, the place was decked with beauts with tales to tell, merchandise to sell, authors with life changing stories, and it was so kool. Little Serukenya (Ken’s sis) led these songs which made us shake our kiwatos and remind ourselves of why we are African because we can daaaance. Simon Cowell and Paula Abdul should come to Watoto North first for pre-auditions. Then there was free breast cancer screening as well-every damsel should run for any opportunity to check their breasts. It is the age of information and education and we can save ourselves a lot of raging within.
After that, was the female artistes bash at Emin Pasha and what an extravaganza. Alliance Française stepped it up and had a string of fantabulous artistes one after the other at the resplendent Emin Pasha. There was Keko, a 20 something Jap and hip hop artiste who can make the furniture dance to her raps. Feminine and fierce and artistic and real, she is the embodiment of musical growth in Uganda. Of course, the sensations like Lillian Mbabazi, Tamba, Elaine Alowo and Ife made the day memorable. The power of words and sound was combined with so much charisma and Ife, Grace and Ann led us along this powerful story making the words win us all. I have never enjoyed the cliché’s of women’s day and was so glad that this was far from it. The fashion show lone with beads, bark cloth, accessorised into fashion fiesta was incredible. You should have been there.
Thanks everyone for making it happen.

Thursday, March 3, 2011

Is there Rehab for poets?



If you have been following the recent CNN feature on mental health in Kenya, like me you may have had the following reaction in this order. Shock, pity, resignation, amusement, pity, awe at the in-depth coverage, pity. It is very pitiful and outrageous that patients who feel like inmates who cannot afford the fees are made to stay in. This is a mental institution where patients(inmates are caged like the monkeys at Uganda Wildlife Education Centre but with less care and attention, and even when freedom is nigh, a few pennies short of the fee and their fate is capped with a merciless padlock until they pay up.
In response to the question, is there Rehab for poets? We are the Rehabilitation that the world needs. Haven’t you heard people saying that writing saved their life? And they say that without the slightest nudge of melodrama, unflinching like the German Minister who plagiarised his way in and out of PhD stardom. Maya Angelou’s Still I Rise is a poem whose very message creates a bed of music for the parched soul that needs to be redeemed from patriarchal, political pestilence in this world order called life which none of us can avoid. When she says, Still I Rise, she speaks of hope against all hopelessness; she speaks of the train of courage we have witnessed in Libya, Tunisia, Egypt. That train of courage along the railway tracks that gather hope, determination and steed.
This is what poetry and writing do to me. My poem below is called Jail Sentence.
Shackled to shame
Despair in the darkness
The Terror of Treason
A lifetime of Languish

A kaloli bird’s droppings
Embellish the wall
Blop Blop Blop
The music of prison.

Nothing
Heavy Breathing. My breathing.
Patterns of my punishment
Embellish my mind
I inscribe a song of silence
I inscribe adjectives of agony.
My agony.
Wailing. Waiting. Winning.
Another day.
Another song.
Lines of Liberty
A jail of joy

By the way if the poem doesn’t make sense, please don’t incriminate yourself and tell me how beautiful it sounds and what imagery. I’m an artist not a fool. Love you too. In Ancient Egypt, the walls of the Prison Kingdoms are filled with writings in hieroglyphics because writing is what lifted them from their prison. Many Christians that have been arrested in countries worldwide often inscribed bible verses because they knew that those words would give hope to the next prisoner. Your creativity is the Rehab we all need. There are some young Arab artists now rapping new songs in response to their new found and strangely exciting yet dangerous freedom. It’s all we need.

Monday, February 21, 2011

What do elections mean to me? I'm just a poet.



In 1996, I voted for Dr. Ssemogerere. In 2001, Dr. Besigye. In 2006, Dr. Bwanika. In 2011, it needed no Professor to determine the outcome. Well, I stuffed my room with books and scones just in case a war broke out. In Ntinda, voting went on as usual. My scones ran out and I took pictures of the expectant and constitutionally forward-looking Ugandans staining their fingers symbolically. I know the elections should affect me but unless I write a poem that causes as much national upheaval and news as Wael Ghonim's Egypt's facebook revolution, then...
But what if I did? I mean, the larger population does not appreciate the gravity of poetry but I could make it into a popular rap song. Out with the despot and out with the rot. Let's go to town and create change now. I really do have talent,no? However, since we are not a predominantly muslim nation, there will be no revolutions this season. Let the Arabs tussle it out first. I hear on Tuesday there will be a yellow party in Kololo or is it kampala town? Good for them. They've had it for 24 years, I mean when we get fed up we can always hire the Egyptians, right? I would have worn a rainbow coloured dress on Tuesday but rainbow is no longer the sweet array of colours with the gold at the end of it but synonymous with other divisive elements.
How about you? What colour are you? In Sironko, where I am from, everyone voted FDC, and I mean literally. When Mt. Elgon blushes, it turns blue.
So, what colour are you?

Friday, February 4, 2011

Poetry performance on 12th February




On 12th February, I have what is like my first poetry performance. When I say first, I mean that I have a friend who came back from Boston and resettled here and she started a really great coffee house called Coffee At Last. it is in Makindye. It has a cosy room with sofas, perfect for people who live in Makindye. So she met me and we got talking and we re-lived our high school moments and then like a light bulb, asked me why i don't perform at her coffee house. I admit, i do not perform like Ife Piankhi or Maurice Kirya but I can recite my poems from head and i am a Sunday school teacher with creative ideas. So why not? On February 12th I will be giving a poetry performance. I will be working mainly from my chapbook collection, Unjumping, which, thanks to God, is nor new and improved so I don't have to keep explaining myself every time i am selling it. By the way, I have sold over 200 books in the past month.

That's not my point. My point is; I am excited about this. I've got nothing to lose. I left my 8 to 5 job to enjoy the world of creativity which is more arduous that I thought. I have to think up newer ideas everyday, be nice to strangers, smile at the rain to conjure up some best selling proposal on poetry and well, life goes on. I like it. I also get to watch Boston legal when I have worked hard and also work at my studies when I can. FEMRITE has lots of great resource on poetry which I never realised before. Anyway my point is, I will be giving a performance on 12th February and I have the props set an everything. i will not go all out African with kitenge etc, I will be me. I trust it will go well and when it does, i hope for more performances. I deserve it. I left my 8 to 5 job for this, exactly this.

i would like to say you are welcome but really the target is for residents of Makindye and for people who like to hang at The American Recreation Association, which is just opposite the coffee house where I will be performing.

Kitale-Western Kenya


NB: This is not a picture of Kitale. I just like the pic.
For my first assignment this Lent term of my Masters, I decided to try a go at travel poems. I haven't yet got feedback from my tutor but I'll go with it. Below is a poem that was published in Unjumping, my first chapbook poetry collection. I visited Kitale in 2005. It reminded me a lot of Uganda then because of the landscape, friendliness of people and lots and lots of maize. My friend told me that the people make enough money in December to last the month and they make that money from maize. My husband and I are always looking at ways of investment. just go the way of Kitale-plant maize. It will last us from Christmas to Christmas. Kitale is rural by Kenyan standards but they have huge malls,neat takeaways and the houses in some of the places are very impressive. Anyway, below is the poem I wrote I think two years after the visit.

Kitale-Western Kenya

I took my thoughts for a walk.
The maize stalks swayed in disapproval
Of my forlorn imagination.

Kitale is for people
Not artistes.

The local chatter guided me to the market.
And I laughed as the cowrie shells
Rattled from the shelves

Thursday, January 20, 2011

Poets I love you, but...


I am mortified. I attended the weekly readers-writers club of FEMRITE and I am still reeling with mortification. A young gentleman hands in a poem with the first verse copied word for word from a hip hop song and wants us to glorify his writing. Another lad hands in a poem which is not bad just rather confusing. The problem is not the pieces themselves because we all learn from sharing, it is the attitude of these lads. Why do you submit pieces if you cannot listen to unanimous and honest feedback from the people who have taken time to read your work? Why do you sit and defend a piece of writing and yet it is obvious from the fifteen voices around you that there is need for improvement. It is the attitude that appalls me and while the club is and will always be a brilliant idea, I hold my reservation. The readers-club reminds me how and why I started the BN Poetry Award for women. I find women much easier to communicate with in the world of arts. They are more responsive and teachable in my opinion. When I held a poetry training workshop last year in October and gave feedback to the participants of the award, it was easy to engage with the poets, not so for most men; and so I will not include men in this competition to answer many of your questions. However, men are always welcome in the workshops and other poetry events because I have met some very talented poets.
I have come to realize that poetry is a tough world to live in. Some foreigners to this exotic world think that it is about muse, inspiration and rhyme. Others think that it is about love, sweetness and mushy feelings and still others are convinced that it is about lyrics. The true dwellers, whose faces and minds have been hardened and sharpened from the wisdom that is poetry; know that it is Robert Frost’s Road Less Travelled. They know that it is the beard that shapes Jajja’s face after 5 decades of marriage. The true citizens of poetry land understand the rings around the trunk of the great oak that have weathered the years. Poetry is hard work. It is like selling a ten- year business plan. It is like convincing your child to take vegetables and cod liver oil. The muse and inspiration and feelings are fine. Then there is the research, the editing, the reading and re-reading, the memorizing and placing the words on the page with the right shape. Does the poem sound like a poem? What does it look like? How do I feel after reading it? How do others feel? I will think of all this before I call myself a poet again.