PINKPOET KIMANI ON HER ARTISTRY WHILE IN KISUMU 

by ChurchillOngere

She is a poet with witty words but a soft spoken personality. A soft spoken heart. Grace Kimani might strike you as calm, jovial, ordinary lass when you first meet her.  Not till you get to know that she is an accomplished young poet whose works have been featured in two Kenyan poetry anthologies. She is the initiator of two prominent art gatherings this side of the country having started Spoken Heart in Maseno and Lakeside Poetry in Kisumu. Pinkpoet has shared the stage with outstanding poets and artists in the country like Tear Drops, Juliet Wangombe (who wrote President Uhuru Kenyatta’s acceptance speech) and Nasara the beat boxer. Be sure to bump into her at most of the many poetry events in Nairobi. Here’s an interview I did with her through e-mail back in April.

What is it like being a creative in Kisumu?

It’s been four years since I came to Kisumu and the experience has been amazing. I have had the opportunity to grow as a poet and a guitarist while in Kisumu.

When did you start your artistry?

I started performing poetry in 2003 while I was in upper primary. As for my writing, I started writing poetry in 2006 but it was not till 2012 that I began incorporating playing the guitar in my performances.

Have you linked up with any other people who engage in creative processes similar to what you do?

I have met various poets, writers and musicians in Kisumu who have a passion for art as much as I do. Through concerts and monthly artistic events I have had the opportunity to meet talented upcoming and established artist’ in Kisumu.

Being a creative/artist in Kisumu has a lot of challenges. Which ones for example have you faced?

The major challenge I have experienced as a poet in Kisumu has been that of selling my poetry. The Kisumu audience has become more receptive over the years but it is still hard to sell the idea of an exclusive poetry event in Kisumu. There is always a need to incorporate other arts such as dance and music to compliment the poetry to a very large extent. Poetry is yet to secure a strong position in the Kisumu art scene.

How have you overcome these setbacks?

With the help of other poets, we began a poetry lounge in Maseno University known as Spoken Heart. Through this forum we made poetry popular and created an interest for poetry in the region.

Is there good competition in the field of creativity that you engage in?

I would say there is potential for greater competition among the poets in Kisumu.

In your own capacity, what are some of your achievements?

One thing I consider an achievement is the role I played in founding the Spoken Heart  Maseno Chapter. Spoken Heart is an urban contemporary artist’s lounge based in Maseno University. It is a Behavior Change Communication Group within I Choose Life (ICL) Maseno with the aim of communicating behavior change through art. It incorporates poets, writers, visual artists, singers/songwriters and spoken word artists.

It was also during my four years in Kisumu that some of my pieces were published in two Kenyan poetry anthologies.

There is a perception out there that Kisumu artists and creatives are not good enough. Do you agree with this? Can anything be done about this?

Any such perception is misguided. I have been part of the Kisumu artists’ network and there is great talent in Kisumu. The only thing that needs to be done is the exposure of this great talent to the rest of the country and the world.

What kind of support have you got from the people around you?

I have received moral and financial support from my friends and family in my pursuit of success as a poet in Kenya.

Who/what inspires you?

I draw my daily inspiration from life experiences, both my own and those of people around me.

Who do you look up to in your artistry?

Caroline Nderitu, Sitawa Wafula. Phyllis Muthoni, Sitawa Namwalie and Staceyann Chin.

Where do you hope to have taken your career in the next five years?

I hope to have published my first poetry book in the next five years.

Pinkpoet was included in a feature by gigzcampo that profiled Maseno University’s 10 most inspiring ladies in October last year. The anthologies in which her poems were featured are Fresh Paint and The Power of Words.

Click this link to view some of her poems in her Facebook notes.

Mystery Man by Orawo Olave

It rang twice, it felt like eternity,

Then he picked, I felt jittery,

My phone felt slippery,

My throat felt a little bit slithery,

The stars I remember were glittery.

So I talked to him seated beneath the half moon.

His voice still had that touch,

My friends would say, he’s quite a catch,

His first few words sounded like Dutch,

His looks and voice were quite a match,

Him over the phone that night was a perfect patch,

That single peak at the end of a dull plain day.

A sneak peek of who mystery man is in open,

I could admit to not having met him too often,

He’s adorable I’d let my cookies burn in the oven,

Just to watch him cause we’d never strike even,

I can’t audition him, he’ll score a ten out of ten,

Sometimes I think to myself; isn’t he too good to exist?

Is your life dark? You could use his brilliant personality,

Counting him a blessing is a definite, not a probability,

His skin marries his charm, a spell that could last for eternity,

He could probably know his worth, or will they call it vanity?

He is the perfect element to counter negativity,

I stare at the sky wondering how such good luck could come my way.

They say everyone has their flaws,

His must be well tucked in somewhere,

As my river of emotion flows,

I feel his presence almost everywhere,

A day cannot go by without the thought of mystery man.

Message from OOGAM

A special dedication to that person who’s phone call makes your blood rush.

Till it hurts by AdrianKibai

There is a way that you pucker up your lips when you are being naughty, it makes my head spin and the only thing that stops me is your warm lips on mine. The taste on your lips is sweetest right after you shower, because then they are fresh, wet and pink-ish just how I love them. I get lost in your eyes every time I look at you. The feeling makes me feel like you are seeing right through my soul. Feels vulnerable. My only way out is to kiss you because only then, can I see your soul too: with my eyes closed. Sorry love the world can’t be fair. What is the fun in that anyway?

When I get angry and fired up, you pop out of nowhere and touch my face. Your fingers run through my cheeks and they land on my lips. Pause. I can’t help pulling you closer and feeling your breath on my face just triggers a power surge. The anger turns to love and I kiss you hard till my lips hurt. My jaws ache at times from the effort. You probably don’t notice it because it is the kind of kiss that is rough yet tender. Succulent and lingering. I do it just enough not to taste yesterday’s supper. Forgive me am partly French. I go deep but not too deep. Just enough to touch your soul: with my lips.

Your lips, my favourite meal. I can’t save myself when you bite my lower lip while I kiss you. Makes me weak at the joints. You bite and suck as you get handsy and all am left to do is wonder whether to tell you to stop or not. Your lips are the reason I would love you even if I was to never see you naked. I can’t promise not to grab your ass when I suck on it. I would be on that straight diet without a worry. Kiss me till it hurts love. Always.

My Insight On How To Organize A Successful Art Exhibition After Hosting One – Churchill Ongere

That I am an artist you probably know very well by now. Well art is about a lot of stuff, and a lot of stuff is about art. A month ago while at an event organized by a marketing company I intern for, I met Byron Menezes. Guy’s uncompromisingly forthright, an altruist and a good conversationalist. Has a lot of experience being here and there you know-with work and places he’s been to. Being the Creative Director at this hosting company, I happened to mention to him some project I was working on. So he offers to provide a venue for a group exhibition that I had to organize in two weeks with his and that of a couple other people. I developed the theme of the exhibition and invited the top artists in Kisumu to come exhibit too. Well here’s my insight for fellow young artists when hosting (like I did) or participating in a group exhibition (like I also did):

»      If you are organizing/hosting the exhibition chose a strategic well known venue or close to a prominent building or street. Also, keep the venue on the ground floor only if it is not further than the second floor. You would be surprised that some people would avoid going to a place just because of the stairs they will have to climb to get to the venue. You know your town, so make sure that the environs of the venue are safe areas and not insecurity hotspots in the town.

»      Have more than enough time for marketing. An exhibition hall without guests isn’t good looking. Send actual art cards to people you can physically reach in your mailing list. Do not over-rely on online marketing. There’s a lot of saturation of information there already. It is critical you have an online campaign too by the sides since you know, this is the information age. Outsource online marketing services if possible. Get a social media strategist or an online marketing company who have the right contacts to invite to an art exhibition and not just any many Facebook friends or Twitter followers. The few recipients of that invitation e-mail have to be an exclusive group of people with a higher probability to turn up during the exhibition than one thousand Facebook invitees who won’t even bother to check the details of the exhibition after they have seen the entry charge.

»      Have a solid promotional pack that consists of a press release (if possible), an art card designed specifically for your exclusive art customers and new targeted professional clients, flyers, posters and an entry form. Also, add an additional information packet with contact details for yourself and any other main event coordinators. E-mail your local contacts: to schools, colleges, art schools, community groups and organizations. Introduce yourself in the body of the e-mail and attach your electronic flyer. Cut costs by sending a simple notification and invitory SMS to 50 of your close friends and family in your phone book. In the text allow them to forward the same text to 20 other people in their phone books. This text should be sent once a week to these friends. The assumption is that since they are people who are used to getting communication from you and support what you do, they won’t mind having several messages from you in their inbox. More importantly, request for contacts from your friends, of top professionals in your town/city and send them customized art cards with the exhibition details. Get to know a bit more about the six degrees of separation and how this can help you market the exhibition more.

»      Have ways of getting feedback from your invited list of professionals so that you know whether they will be able to make it for the exhibition or will need special reservations. Depending on the kind of feedback you will get, make appropriate amendments to the event details and logistics. Remember, it is you who is trying to sell and not the people you are inviting. They know you want to get their money, so take it easy with them. Create a good rapport with as many of your art clients and new guests as possible. Therefore, if ¾ of the invited corporate guests have indicated that they won’t be available on the set dates, why not postpone the event to a date when at least half of the invited guests will be available?

»      Depending on whether the exhibition is invites only, free entry or has an entry charge, have a way of controlling the crowd. Exhibitions are best when organized in a cocktail manner where people meet, network and talk. If you have sponsors, get to know how to treat them during the exhibition and whether they will need some acknowledgment from you during your opening or closing speech in the exhibition. Professionals will not be comfortable brushing shoulders with a bunch of fun seeking teenagers or unruly university students. This kind of mix up shouldn’t extend to the kind of music being played in the background. Keep it jazzy or soulful. Have a rehearsal of the exhibition with your friends and an accredited photographer a day before or in the morning of the day of the exhibition. Notice the loopholes and fix them. Inform artists to be present during the rehearsal so that they raise any concerns they might have about the exhibition set up for example the lighting and arrangement of the art. Get the artists to record the art pieces they are exhibiting, their contacts and accompanying prices. Artist bios shouldn’t miss.

»      If you are simply interested in participating in an exhibition, get in touch with the organizers as soon as you get word about the exhibition. Get clarifications about the exhibition duration, registration fees, medium on display, commissions, mounting of art pieces and other exhibiting artists. This will help you make prior arrangements about transporting your works to the venue and how it will be secured. Do not miss the rehearsal of the exhibition.

»       On the day of the exhibition, be around your art pieces and talk to all guests who appear to be interested in your work. Art buyers like to have a personal experience interacting with the artists who they promote by buying art work from. Receive criticism positively. Do not take negative comments personally. Explain to those who don’t understand your work by giving them your background story about how you started doing art up to where you are now and outstanding experiences during your career. Your story as an artist will sell you more than your work as an artist. Successful people like relating to people who are also successful or appear to have a promising future. While doing all these, STAY HONEST.

I Don’t Know About This by Churchill Ongere

It shouldn’t be funny, I tell myself, how my interests are still scattered all over the place three years after graduating from high school. Not that I feel like I am so old to still be trying out different things but sometimes, during those moments when I sit back and retrospect, I find myself comparing myself to my high school mates who some, to use the example of just a few,  by now, are married and are on government payrolls. (Disclaimer- I do not envy neither do I despise their marital status or employer. I do reviews from time to time you should know). I do have lots of crazy, unimaginable, stretched, secular and heavenly fun while all over the place.

I came out of primary school confident (like my father)  to be a lawyer one day (some friends I graduated standard eight with have this wrong perception that I am probably almost clearing law school now!). Well I started being argumentative ages ago. Four years ago, I came out of high school very sure of not being a lawyer but that I would be comfortable doing anything design related (btw, none of those guys I was with in high school for four good years ever imagined that I would rock dreadlocks. Look at me now!)

Then Political Science happened. I then came into university hoping to get a Political Science degree. I still hope and work hard towards getting one. This coming semester is the beginning of the end of the 8-4-4 homestretch for me.  I do love what I do for a studying though. The discussions we have in class are usually very informative. We end up arguing like our politicians do for example – sitting in the same room with someone who swears he would disown his brother if he found out he was gay. All of my lecturers have distinct personalities that are sometimes the cause of a good, long, large, laugh that brings back interest during a boring lecture. We have NAMES for all of them. *Laughs*

So what happens now that I am almost stating it here that I don’t see myself taking a Master’s Course any time soon? I see myself venturing into radio some time around June 2016 or probably going for an artist residency in some art centre in South Africa by December 2016.

But there’s one constant, I have noted, in all of these departures from the previous and present expectations people have of me or comfort-zones that I set for myself – the hunger for conversations that lead to me stepping out of my comfort zone is what drives me. Whenever I am souled into something I have developed interest in,  I dig in really deep. Till my nails hurt. Then I heal real quick! Well, the story of these scattered interests and girls is something else altogether!

SET FORTH AT DAWN: PART TWO by Florence Malouda

Of the continuation of life, passing exams and going to renowned national schools. It was the best four years of life that largely shaped who I am today, my grace or lack of thereof which is very rare by the way…climbing hurdles, occasionally passing math exams and finally passing the ultimate exams in high school which was not a surprise because I read hard anyway.

The initial days of making friends was not a problem, naturally, I got many friends but gradually became withdrawn when each and every situation keeps reminding you, no, something is not a little right with you :D and of answering questions according to the seating arrangements. IT’S YOUR TURN!!! Which one?

Long and excruciating double Kiswahili Fasihi lessons with mumbling teachers, I have nothing against Kiswahili in fact, I’m deeply intrigued by this language. I just wish my teacher was a whole lot more dramatic.

It is now time to go to a qualified specialist. So on Fridays I’ll miss those classes (yes!) to go to town (Lion’s Eye Bank, Loresho, the Ear Unit) with many a great hopes for salvation and behold I’d warned my friends, “Be careful what you say about me now.” They just smiled.

And truly words cannot express the crushing disappointment I had when I got my first hearing aid. It was analogue, the one in the picture above, left and lasted only 3 weeks though my dad came all the way from home at the call from the school to pay a whooping 40k for that was the price of an analogue piece of junk.

When a hole developed in the plastic tube, I could no longer use it. It produced a funny whistling sound that made the class laugh. Then I had to use the spare one, which also, a few days later, malfunctioned! I was in form two by then and had days of Kiswahili lessons to endure till the Friday to go look for the doctor.

But he says, this is a big problem, Florence. I am just a doctor there is nothing I can do I would have to send it back to Germany but it’s not worth it. In my head, me and my classmates invent new hearing aids and set up a factory in Nairobi. And voila! The doctor gives me another analogue pair (above right) for FREE. I still strongly feel that my father should go and claim back the money he had paid earlier.

Anyway I made through my second form and most of my third form, scribbling Kiswahili nonsense in my book during the Fasihi and set book sessions. I do not hate Kiswahili. During a career fair I found a brochure from the Upper Hill medical Centre guys about the more advanced devices of technology and three months later I had me a customized digital gadget from South Africa. Praise Jesus, though they cost a fortune, I was better off.

It served me diligently for almost two years, then one fateful night; I woke up to the sinister feeling of a silhouette was hovering over my bedroom window. Ah I’m just groggy. It shone a spotlight through the window. Ah my sister went to pee and now she wants to scare me. In the morning, the window pane was broken and a couple of my stuff on the table near the window was gone and with them my impressive piece of technology. The silhouette the thief, I hope it serves him well.

Mother flew into a fit of rage but we never found the silhouette. We are now back to where we started but let’s pretend it does not matter. When the figure in the bank reads 100k, we will be fine again. And now, in the pursuit of errant dreams, there are fears that cripple at times for the future is uncertain and the system, it takes a shrewd mind to work around the system and that, I will.

Pain wanders through my bones like a lost fire. What burns me now? Desire, desire, desire. Those words of Sir Theodore Roethke aptly describe my life and dreams. My faith wavers, but only for a while, fears confine me, but not for so long a time. Because I’m a firm believer that the tragedy of life is what we let die inside of us while we live, therefore I will set forth at dawn for my dreams to pursue, whatever it takes, having to face my fears from time to time but cowering not.

SET FORTH AT DAWN: PART ONE by Florence Malouda

Hi, you can call me Bitchfits and I love to listen to people talk. I don’t talk but I make blog posts of my thoughts or status updates or tweets. You want to talk to me? Yes, I’m on twitter. You want to meet me? No, I have a shitload of work to do. I have beautiful eyebrows? Yes, I know.

I’m now twenty years old and 14 years ago as I was playing with my friends, I heard the mothers talking, “Sasa darasa zingine atafanya aje?” Yes I was the topic of their conversation. Now I’m in campus and I will be in third year the new academic year this September pursuing a major in Environmental Sciences. I wish I knew where these women are now. See, I made it this far.

“Lakini hizi zingine nitafanya aje?” From that day 14 years ago, I have never been able to shake of that statement. It instilled and still does a sense of dread in me. I get afraid, very afraid, “nitafanya aje?” and then I think of how far I have made it, but I do not get my courage back. Because it is the roughness of the journey, that wore me out, never fully recovered. It just gets worse.

Despite doing a major in Environmental Sciences, my real interests lie in journalism and I am already working on it, with impressive results to be proud of. I was made the editor of the best online Kenyan campus magazine, and to recruit and organize other writers. Yes that’s something! I’m doing it!

It is in the achievement of my journalistic dreams that lies my biggest hurdle, we all have hurdles I know, but some, we cannot jump over and it takes a miracle to climb over with an unwavering faith and courage, which I do not have as I sit here. What is her problem? You ask.

Many years ago, a child sat playing on her own, a short distance from the house in the front yard. Staring with glee at the colorful beads she had gathered and very slowly picks one and places in her ear…oh now I have a beautiful earring. Let me try this other one. Ohhh nooo! It can’t come out; maybe if I push it inside it will come out from the other side. MAAAAMAAA!

Bathe her and take her to the clinic and have it removed. It was. A few years later…as she is getting a thorough beating, “how many times do you want me to call you?” but I didn’t hear you!! “How can you not hear me and Leah heard? Wacha mchezo!” she cries till she throws up. She really has no idea why she is getting beaten.

She goes to her first class in primary school; she is number five, then numbers six then number two. In class two she is number four then number one and number one again. The rest of the classes she is number one, two or three but she is always number one in third term.

2005, at the ear nose and throat centre. Oh she got something in her ear? Which one? But she cannot remember. Let me see if I can find it. No there is nothing inside, she doesn’t know what the doctor is talking about but she is not the one doing the talking so she doesn’t ask. Oh let me check this side and this side, I can’t see anything but maybe I can feel it. He takes a tiny plastic funnel places it inside the ear and hammers it inside.

Ouch!! She cries! Quack!! She screams in her head. Oh whatever is in her ear has moved further inside I can only get the wax. She doesn’t understand, but she says nothing. She also has a chest infection, she coughs up sputum. Oh, do you hear the way she is coughing? That’s why she cannot hear you. I will spray her nose.

He sprays her nose and gives her a mirror to look at the stream of mucus flowing uncontrollably. This is what is making you bad but once your nose is unblocked you will be fine. She nods her head but says nothing. She doubts. Take this handkerchief and blow your nose when you going home. They leave. Her mother looks at her hopefully, your nose is unblocked now? No, it’s still blocked but she says yes, for the hope in her mother’s eyes is gut wrenching.

To be continued…

Maseno University Zoo by Stacey Nduta

Remember that time someone referred to Maseno as a bush university? Well have that in mind as you read this. Now, if you’ve been around for even just several weeks you’d happen to realize that there’s a lot of random vegetation around Maseno University. This has provided wildlife with a space. A very comfortable space where they can carry on with their normal routine lives as if they were in some space in the Congo forest.

We do know how cohabitation with animals simply never works out. Despite established boundaries, one party always ends up cringing into the latter's space which leads to retaliation and eventual annihilation of one of the agreed parties.

Here are some of the wildlife you can find in Maseno University eco-system;

Distant cousins

They are everywhere. In the field, on the trees and even sneaking into our rooms. This is more frequent in Makerere halls where the monkeys swoop in to get a little something something especially sugar, fruits or a colourful item such as a plastic cup (the multi-coloured ones) don't look at me so blankly you know which ones I'm talking about.

Secretly pirating....

Pirating simply means receiving accommodation not paid for. For example, in a room of 4.. You're six instead. I'm sure most of you heard what creepy crawlers  were found in New Sunrise halls (popularly known as Tsunami). Drum rolls please.... Bed bugs...yes you may scream and shout but I speak nothing but the truth. ...How were they discovered?.... Infact Kenya Red Cross Maseno Chapter was to aid in spraying the entire hall to prevent further breeding and spreading...

The little guys...

Everyone loves Jerry from Tom and Jerry. I mean the little guy was cute and smarter than Tom. Rodents are common in an eco system especially this one. Infact, in Vet farm ...not having at least one rodent is a miracle worth thanking the Lord for. These guys are little but quite annoying. My roomie once spared some slices of bread only to find two halves and pellets of shit on them. As if it's his/her signature; a way of letting us knows s/he was there. All we could do was sigh and shake our heads because getting rid of our little guest would make the house vacant for more rodents. Oh well if you can't beat them...join them.

Even during SabaSaba I'll Stay in this ghost town of a campus -  Stacey Nduta

In Kenya, there's a day set aside to remember those who lost their lives in the name of multi-partism. It's known as Saba Saba simply because it happened on the 7th of July (7th month of the year).

Tomorrow is the D-day and the opposition has huffed and puffed for the past few weeks of peaceful rallies (chaotic riots). Many fear that the riots may be used as an excuse to inflict pain and injury to any Kikuyus (any non-Luo).

Being a student in Maseno University, which is a stronghold for the opposition, one can easily understand why I would be hesitant to spend Saba Saba here. I have watched many taking advantage of the insecurity rumors and take to their heels to their home sweet home. The student population has significantly decreased. Infact most residence halls resemble ghost towns (creepy hollow music in background). And yet I remain in my dilemna; to leave or not to leave.

Nevertheless, I do believe that one should never be driven by fear or deceitful inciting. Hence I choose to stay to prove that I believe in Kenya. Not just as a country but in it's people. Surely, as much as hooliganism is contagious; being led straight into the abattoir is a special case of stupidity.

So I think I'll stay put. Even if all my three roomies have left. Even if I think all Kikuyus have abandoned this ticking mine zone. Even if I'm becoming abit paranoid. I will stay put in this ghost town of a campus.

WORLD CUP WIDOWS AND SINGLE LADIES by Elizabeth Muthama

So the world cup has been running for 25 days, is there any of you who feel it’s been like a decade, especially ladies? Please watch out, don’t answer that out aloud- you might be stoned but don’t worry I got your back. When the first whistle was blown in Brazil and the games began so did the problems of married women and dating ladies whose husbands and boyfriends started dating football. One of such is my friend Betty now married for 2 years.

Bearing in mind Brazil’s time zone, while the games are played it finds Kenya in the wee hours of the night. And this has changed my friend’s story. After 4 days of her husband coming home late she decided to accompany him to one of the matches, where Portugal faced Germany. The date started badly with him complaining that Betty took too much time in the mirror. With her makeup half done and not sure about her dress they both left for the match in the nearest bar. Betty publicly announced she rooted for Germany and of course she did that to show support for her husband. But she loved watching Ronaldo anyway and silently supported Portugal. The match went awfully wrong when Portugal scored in the 80^th minute; Betty inadvertently celebrated and was met with furious eyes of her date. And her lamest excuse was, “I did not know, you mean that it’s not Germany? I thought it was”. Apart from making a fool out of herself, she had earned herself a week long frown from dear hubby.

Maria is my second friend to whom world cup has brought nothing but stress and endless thoughts. Just before the world cup her husband used some of their savings to buy a flat screen television and went digital with GoTV. It’s true he did not ‘hama’ (digital migration) even when the government threatened to switch off analogue television. During every match he invites his three friends whom Maria has to cook something for. She stays up late to serve them, tries to sit and enjoy football but being a fifth wheel is worse than going to bed to get some sleep. Just when she falls asleep she wakes up frightened by the shouting and screaming coming from the living room. Cursing she throws a pillow over her head to quiet the noise, when calmness kicks in sweet hubby calls her to serve them more drinks, as if their house is a bar and her the bartender.

That is what my friends’ life for the last 21 days has been like. You are wondering what my experience has been like? Well girl talk has been filled with too much ‘my husband is not spending time with me’ stories. I want to talk about clothes, shoes, that workmate that sucks investments and skin care products, not about selfish husbands who have turned their wives to world cup widows. So there it is I can’t wait for the world cup to be over.  

What is your world cup experience? Share with B.A.M.U and enjoy the remaining world cup days responsibly.  

This blogpost was prepared by Elizabeth Muthama. She is one of the founding members of BAMU, is a script writer and is a third year Development Studies student.