To Hell with Globalisation

By Otieno Amisi
http://www.timesnews.co.ke/05dec05/editorials/comm2.html

December 5, 2005

There was a time when farmers could take their children to school, put up a mabati house, and pay dowry for their sons.

In those days, gifts articles like shoes or clothes did not wear the stale smell of mitumba. There were no free-markets, and people went to work in firms or farms, and not to hawk. But that was long time ago, and no one had heard of globalization or the World Trade Organisation.

Next week, Kenya joins other members of the world’s largest trading organization in Hong Kong. World Between 13th and 18th December, trade ministers from the world’s richest and poorest countries will gather at the 6th conference in the Chinese capital.

As they gather to discuss the fate of millions of the world’s poor farmers, the dignitaries and their relatives will be clad in majestic state opulence with four wheel drive fuel guzzlers and full security. They will wear a glittering assortment of garb from the world’s top designers, then, after small talk on liberalization and interministeral jokes, go shopping for rare items from the best of the world’s markets.

But the papers they will sign in Hong Kong could seal the fate of milk, dairy and cotton farmers forever. The outcome of the conference will decide the fate of millions of farmers and workers in Kenyan and other African countries. The conference will determine whether we shall pay more for a spoon of sugar, or whether fertilizer process could go up or come down.

The World Trade Organization is the most powerful legislative and judicial trade body in the world. But its continued promotion of the “free trade” agenda of multinational corporations above the interests of local communities, working families, and the environment, has irked human rights groups and environmentalists worldwide.

Critics of globalization says the WTO has systematically undermined democracy around the world. The argument is that in the ten years of its existence, WTO panels composed of corporate attorneys have protected rich countries while making poor countries systematically poorer.

Controversies about over recent WTO pronouncements. For instance, the organization gas been heavily criticized for opposing a law protecting sea turtles and dolphins. The organisation has also come under fire for being a stumbling block to the European Union law banning hormone-treated beef.

The fury is captured in the words of Karin Gregow of Eco News Aftica, a Nairobi based non governmental organization. Gregow accuses the WTO of undermining democracy and anti poverty efforts. Says Gregow: “according to the WTO, our democratically elected public officials no longer have the rights to protect the environment and public health.” Gregow says the WTO’s immense powers emerge from a structural weakness. “Unlike United Nations treaties, the International Labor Organization conventions, or multilateral environmental agreements, WTO rules can be enforced through sanctions. This gives the WTO more power than any other international body. The WTO’s authority even eclipses national governments,” she says.

The most memorable manifestation of the world’s dissatisfaction was in November 1999, when 50,000 people went to Seattle to demand a more democratic, socially just and environmentally sustainable global economy. The protests, marked by naked demonstrators, succeeded in shutting down the trade talks and derailing the expansion of the WTO.

But the WTO’s anti poor crusade has continued unashamedly. At the fourth ministerial held in 2001 in Qatar, hard pressure was applied on countries to ratify agreements that continue to hurt their own economies. Behind closed doors and away from the glare of media and civil society, African and third world ministers were coerced to sign documents they hardly understood, and which could have far reaching ramifications in stifling industrial and economic development in developing nations.

Since its inception in 1995, the organization has got away by making empty promises on development and the needs of the poorest countries. Recently, it duped the world again to launch the so-called Doha Development Round.

In 2003, the mad carnival moved to Cancún, Mexico, where the rich countries once again sought to expand the scope of the WTO. But a growing alliance of developing countries argued that the unfair global agricultural system had to be cleaned up first, before any more ‘new issues’ could be brought to the table.

It took the suicide of a Korean farmer, Lee Kyung Hae, to draw world attention to the evils of the organization. Hae’s suicide was a summation of the collective rage of the civil society groups and impoverished farmers. It further strengthened the alliance among the poorest countries. The talks fell apart on the last day.

But in 2004, the most powerful countries cobbled together a minimal consensus to get the negotiations back on track by giving false assurances that agriculture would be “fairly” reformed.

In 2005, negotiations are continuing on key issues including agriculture, services, and market access for industrial goods and natural resources, but are mired in deep controversy and suspicion between countries.

Fatoumata Jawara, author of Behind the Scenes at the WTO, describes the involvement of the International Monetary Fund and the World Bank in world trade as ‘callous.’ In her book, she argues that these institutions pressurize poor countries to cut public investment for inputs like seeds and fertilizers, while developed countries continue to provide huge subsidies to their farmers.

“The WTO rules give farmers in rich countries an unfair advantage over their third world counterparts and promotes an unfair and bizarre form of ‘free’ trade, which undermines developing country governments authority to determine their economic destiny,” Fatouma says.

“If you add the lies, intense lobbying, underhand deals and coercion, developing countries stand no chance to better their economies in the current state of affairs,” she adds.

Like most of Africa and the third world, Kenyan economic landscape is littered with the bare skeletons of international political dynamics thanks to the WTO. Anti poor policies have deliberately and systematically ripped off government control on imported goods and opened up local markets for foreign goods without guaranteeing locally produced products similar opportunities abroad. Meanwhile, the cost of agricultural machinery and fertilizers, which are made in the west, has been shooting through the roof, way above the reach of reach of farmers. That international trade imbalances have made rich countries richer and poor nations poorer is clearly seen in the death of cotton, maize, sugar, beef industries across Africa.

Next time you see an abandoned cotton ginnery or cattle dip, do not ask why. Do not ask why you pay more for sugar.

Who will save our languages?

LANGUAGE AND UNDERDEVELOPMENT

By Otieno Amisi

 When in January last year the African Union declared 2006 as the year of African languages, they had not prepared themselves for 

Kenya’s latest onslaught on language and literature.

The AU summit, held in Khartoum, Sudan, resolved that to protect the linguistic and literary diversity of Africa from the

ravages of (neo) colonization, there was need to create and enforce a raft of policies that would be both inclusive 

and supportive of local languages.

It is this context that a recent report that Kenyan universities plan to phase out departments of 

literature (Kwamchetsi Makokha, Sunday Nation 23rd August 2007) is both shocking and disgusting.

 The onslaught against arts-based courses, and especially language and literature, is nothing new in Kenya. 

What is surprising is the nonchalance with which our supposed defenders of language have tended to 

accept harmful and drastic changes 

to the teaching of language and literature. Kenya’s new onslaught on the already besieged study of African 

languages and literature must be condemned with the vehemence that recently accompanied the controversial Media Bill.  

In the early 1990s, a host of pro status-quo scholars championed the abolition of a noble course called Black Aesthetics. 

Since then, our universities, prompted by a few apologists, have proceeded to diminish the place of literature, language 

and culture, and even when they opened up to foreign languages like Japanese, Chinese and French, the focus has been on science.

Now, three decades after Taban lo Liyong, Owuor Anyumba and Ngugi wa Thiongo struggled to hoist African literature

and languages into the centre of higher education, short sighted policy makers are busy perpetuating foreign languages 

and ideology in our schools.

It will be remembered that the literary gurus successfully championed for the creation of a department of literature at 

the University of Nairobi, as opposed to the department of English. 

This development not only widened the frontiers of cultural studies, but also helped place African thought 

and culture at the centre of national and international debate. 

The spirit of the time was that international dialogue could not be complete until Africa was included. 

So Achebe and Soyinka’s worldviews became an integral part of any world debate worth its salt.

It is shocking that nearly two decades after the abolition of the department of English, and 

despite the widely touted growth of democratic space, the phenomenal growth of the media and 

increased political tolerance, enemies of free speech and creativity still abound.

Enemies of literature and the arts out there are still legion. What’s more, people in positions of power and 

authority do not give serious thought to the importance of literature, language and culture in national development. 

They are certainly not making any attempts to promote the growth of literature, yet these are crucial elements in developing 

a national conscience.

As a teacher of literature, I am often infuriated when grammar, syntax and other aspects of language are squeezed into 

the pulse of poetry and richness of oral literature and the theatrical intellect of dramatists. 

How do we expect children to appreciate their cultures, national heritage and languages if we continue 

to squeeze the study of literature out of the school system? How do we expect our youth to understand Shakespeare 

if they do not have enough time to study language in the first place? This integration thing is a sham.

By squeezing literature back into the departments of ‘English’ university authorities are no better than the colonialists 

of yore. They are crowding the corridors of higher education with intellectual zombies, an entire generation of semi-literate 

people who are educated, but not, as Paulo Freire would put it, ‘conscientized.’

Many graduates today – whether of the arts or sciences, do not give a hoot about their language, 

history or culture, and therefore by extension, their mother country.

The mere thought of abolishing literature from the formal university system means there are still by far 

too many illiterate people who fear that the study of literature turns people into demagogues, and that the genre turns students

 into critics, rebels and outright saboteurs.

But is it perhaps time to abandon literature? Isn’t the struggle for liberation, with its call to defend our motherland, 

over? If the war is over, was it won, or did we simply give up in despair? 

Why do we throw up our arms and submit sheepishly to modern day imperialism? Or does it not matter that our 

children sip coca cola and chatter incessantly and intimately about European footballers when they cannot 

count five heroes of the independence struggle? Maybe it doesn’t matter?

When I was admitted to study literature at Kenyatta University many years ago, I was forced to study language 

against my will. The reason was that since I was taking education, and was going to be a teacher of literature, 

(it was the time when Integrated English came into the syllabus), I would be better suited to teach literature if 

I also studied English. Though I enjoyed the study of linguistics, I did not care much for the language of colonization.

I loved literature, and I still do. Because the study of literature nurtures creative thinking and instills a sense of 

patriotism. Now, shrewd leaders, like scholars of culture and history, should know that there is a strong 

connection between language and the enslavement or liberty of a people and their capacity for development. 

Apartheid and its nonsense about linguistic superiority is gone, but experiences of African countries since

political independence indicates that there is even greater need to raise consciousness about language and link 

it to development if our nations are to join the list of industrialized nations.

Though science and technology are crucial to industrialization, science alone with a meager sprinkling of the arts is 

not enough.

 The study of literature, especially, props up industrialization by instilling a sense of national pride and a deep 

rooted love for our culture and our peoples. It is even more important that education systems inculcate in people 

this sense of patriotism in both ordinary people and decision makers. 

The Languages of Africa are a diverse set of languages. All over the continent, European languages 

have a great deal of influence due to the recent history of colonization. According to Wikipedia, there 

are an estimated 2,000 languages spoken in Africa. African languages such as Swahili, Hausa, and Yoruba,

are spoken by millions of people. Yet there is little literature in these languages, because conventional publishing

 still puts undue emphasis on print. Educationists and policy makers don’t seem worried that many other languages, 

like Laal, Shabo, and Dahalo, which are spoken by only a few hundred people, may die out unless there is a concerted, 

deliberate effort to promote them.At a time when the abundant linguistic diversity of many African countries has made

language policy an extremely important issue, why should the time allocated to the study of language and literature be diminished? 

In recent years, African countries have become increasingly aware of the value of their linguistic inheritance. 

Recent language policies are mostly aimed at multilingualism. For example, all African languages are considered

 official languages of the African Union. And the growing media space has provided a niche for 

indigenous languages to thrive. But we need to move beyond mere policy and enforce the use and study of local

languages and literature not only in universities, but also in schools.

Language and thought 

A professor at the University of  Yaoundé, Cameroon, Prince Kum’a Ndumbe III, writes:

“Language enables us to articulate our ideas, feelings, faith, dreams and vision of the world. 

Language allows us to recount our everyday, to interrogate our past and plan our future. 

It enables us to articulate constructed thought. And thought is a vehicle of development – or regression.

Thus through the power of  thought and its practical or technical application, discoveries are made, 

acquisitions are preserved, change comes about, predictions and probabilities are programmed.”

Curtailing the study of literature at any level is like tying our children’s tongues, thus killing our languages, 

and with it our cultures, history, thought processes, and national pride. It is a direct, unashamed perpetuation of neo 

colonialism.

 The don argues that the colonial experience of African countries “applied the breaks to the articulation of the 

collective thought of the African peoples, and the coloniser’s language was imposed as the only officially 

recognised language.” 

 He continues, “African languages were condemned to the domain of folklore as ‘vernacular languages’ or ‘patois’. 

Thought that continued to be articulated by individuals in their ‘patois’, was not recognised and was marginalised. 

In the colonial encounter between Europe and Africa in African lands, the articulation of thought thus suddenly 

became a question of contested political power. Thought expressed in indigenous African languages became 

marginalised. It was labelled primitive, barbarous, backward, incapable of intellect, incapable of communicating progress 

or development.”

 One can detect more or less the same hostile attitude towards literature, languages and the arts today. 

Everyone is crazy about science, law, medicine, and if your thoughts are not expressed in ‘scientific’ language 

(read NGO speak), no one wants to listen to you. Every project must be tailored towards some ‘millennium development 

goal.’ The language must appeal to western nations who hold the dollar and the power to vet and fund ideas. 

So anything outside this realm, like national pride and identity or culture, or indigenous knowledge, is shunned, 

even though it may be more important in the long run.

 If you want to understand our obsession with the west, with this polythene bag philanthropy, with visa cards and 

Goldenberg, you need only to look at our education system. Our schools are churning out hundreds of thousands 

of young people for whom ‘home’ and its indigenous language is an awkward, backward, non profit, even non existent 

or meaningless. To many young people, local languages are a lifeless unreality, while by extension, everything foreign

is better, superior, or chic, or ‘cool.’ So fanaticism for the European language, like its football league is frenetic, maddening 

even; young adults speak English with an  American accent, much as they worship English football as if it were 

Gor Mahia or AFC Leopards.

 Any urban chap these days can tell you what Alex Fegurson ate for breakfast this morning, 

even if they have never heard of Moyale or Butere. Or why Beyonce has just had a tiff with her latest boyfriend, 

and will not write two sentences about Dedan Kimathi or Julius Nyerere.

 It is no wonder, then, that we grow up to become mother-haters, impetuous looters of public funds, preferring to 

study and work abroad, always looking for a chance to flee this country,  to fleece this country, and to stash away 

cash in European banks, despite the government’s appeal in the slogan, ‘Najivunia kuwa Mkenya.’

 Only a sustained study of literature can stem this brainwashing, this pandering to western values, this forced 

dependency on importation. Only a more serious attention to the teaching and learning of language will save us 

from this powerlessness that has impoverished us in so many ways.

 Though physically absent, the colonizer maintains a remote-controlled stranglehold over our language, thinking and 

even national planning. Our African people no longer think or articulate ideas in our own languages. 

Does your proposal go against donor wisdom? Do you use ‘acceptable’ language? Do you speak MDG language?

 Europe has thus continued to use its languages to conquer and dominate peoples whose territories remain occupied

not militarily, but by what looks like charitable advice, propped up by philanthropy or even benevolence. 

This state of affairs has been so deeply ingrained in our psyche that many people no longer see it, or simply accept it as inevitable. 

 While for centuries, all public support for the articulation of their ideas was suppressed, now there is simply no forum 

for local languages today. The space for local literature is becoming smaller and smaller. Indigenous languages have

 all but disappeared from public spaces and are virtually unknown in administration, schools, media, and even in

the so called ‘acculturation’ churches.

 Our intellectuals still pass through a thinly veiled filter of linguistic domination, perpetuated by the media, 

and articulated in the language of the neo colonizer. In turn, they end up convinced that Africa cannot, can never

 produce original thought to steer progress or development. Ideas of progress can only be articulated in the 

language of the European colonizer. Like MDG and Vision 2030.

 Yet it must be remembered that Africa is only a marginal, peripheral continent, very much of secondary concern in

the global strategy of power sharing in the world. According to this subtly  stated strategy, Africa must be severely 

contained, marginalised, controlled, weakened and dominated in order that the winners of globalisation may 

continue to draw from it what they need to nail their power and globalised supremacy. 

And the killing of African languages is a vital tool for this continued domination.

 African populations do not even really understand this continued global dominance, or are too weak to challenge it. 

They remain for the most part ignorant of the concepts, discourses and programmes elaborated for them at national 

as well as global levels. They did not conceive, and do not even have access to, the debate about the fate reserved 

for them in the framework of globalised competition.

Marketers’ Nite out

Marketers NiteBy William Kalombo The third marketers’ night out dinner in Nairobi this year is scheduled for Friday 7th September, 2007 from 6:30pm at Intercontinental Hotel. 

Mr. Steven Smith, managing director, Eveready Batteries East Africa and chairman of Kenya Association of Manufacturers will deliver the key note speech.

Reservation is on going and interested people should get in touch with Caroline on: 020 – 341 366/93.

 

Kwani gets bolder, goes regional

kwani-cover1.pdf

Actor and don Bantu Mwaura presents a poem at a recent event. With Kwani?, East Africa is not a literary wasteland anymore.

The publication of Kwani04 is a protest note to thieves of free speech, writes Otieno amisi.

At a time when freedom of expression is at stake and everyone is shouting themselves  hoarse over the contentious media bill, the editors of East Africa’s only literary journal, Kwani? have endeared themselves to us in a novel way.

Kwani?04 proves the non profit organization ’s commitment to creating a platform for dialogue in Kenya and beyond. Like its predecessors it is strange blend of  easy reading and  intellectual thought,  intriguing and annoying, playful and serious, incomprehensible in part, fascinating and mind racking, all at once. But the appeal of Kwani? 04 lies in inclusiveness, its easy readability to people of all creeds, religions and tribes.

 

Founded five years ago by Caine Prize winner Binyavanga Wainaina, the organization that gave its name to the journal has proved to be a formidable voice against the media’s enemies.

 

Over much of East Africa, these enemies of free speech have ranged from school book market publishers and their narrow minded editors to national thieves and political leaders wishing to bury their sins in the dark abyss of ignorance. They all have one thing in common: suppressing the fundamental human right of  free expression, free thought and free creativity.

 

Over the last five years, Kwani? has continued to showcase numerous talented, almost spontaneous, little known biographers, poets, cartoonists and critics that traditional publishers wouldn’t touch with a ten foot editor’s pencil. And Kwani? has not only attracted serious researchers and scholars; it even has outright jokers, anonymous entertainers and bloggers.

 

So East Africa becomes a literary garden in full bloom once again. The latest issue is much bigger and better packaged, the design bold, the language vibrant, the themes wide, even weird, even wild.

 

Entries like that of the youthful Ugandan writer Doreen Baingana make the journal representative of the East African literary experience. Kwani?4 is racially and territorially inclusive; from spoken word artist Shaija Patel (Kenyan Indian) mwalimu Steve Partington, (Caucasian?) and journalist Rasna Warah.

 

The launch of Kwani04 at Kileleshwa last weekend would not have been complete without an Indian dance; so Kwani is about the borderless ness of creative expression on the internet, on stage, on print.

 

Among the indigenous new writers is Jackie Lebo, the young chronicler from Iten who is compiling a compelling narrative on the lives of Kenya’s legendary high altitude runners. Andia Kisia and Mukoma Ngugi, who have been featured in Kwani before, also make a return.

 

One significant element of the journal is the editor’s commitment to the fight against corruption and injustice. This issue is boldly dedicated to the late David Munyakei of the Goldenberg whistle blowing fame.

It is a startling reflection of the cultural and tribal diversity of East Africa, from the influence of new technology to the deeply rooted prejudices against each other.

 

The dedication of this issue to a believer in free speech is poignant: the editors are pointing clear that corruption continues to plaque our society despite our political pretences to the contrary. They state categorically that the existence of the greedy political class continues to be an impediment to the achievement of genuine progress for all.

 

Inevitably, the internet plays a considerable influence on writers these days. The journal has a number of ‘blogs,’ a relatively new medium that is intensely interactive and immediate. Here, one can easily see the shades of opinions that readers hold regarding pertinent issues.

 

One such issue that is exhaustively explored in the blogs is tribalism, with specific reference to the love hate Luo-Kikuyu relationship. Readers observe that this ancient hatred dates back to independence, with  bloggers from both communities giving their opinion on what they think fuels this enmity.

 

 

While some of them opine that tribalism is a creation of the older generation, others admit that the tension exists and is a real threat to political cohesion and intertribal marriages. This kind of healthy conversation is what this country needs after years of literary suppression.

 

Sex is a fragile subject in Africa, so the journal’s treatment of same sex relationships in Kikuyu culture is striking. It has a unique paper on woman to woman marriages, which puts to shame the western concept of gay relationship. But there is a rider here: the African woman to woman marriage is not for sexual gratification  but for sake of continuity of the homestead.

 

This entry is most timely, especially because the sex debate has continued to dominate international social dialogue in recent years. In Kenya, a bill to give more political seats to women has just been shot down, by a male dominated parliament, while there are whispers that the Kshs 1 billion Women’s fund is a political game.

 

The ingenuity of Kwani  will get the attention of book hating youthful pass timers and serious literary scholars alike.

Tribulations of an editor

 09o6 July Waringa reports on the tribulations of a journalist.

The fate of one of Kenya’s most promising monthly newspapers hangs in the balance after a senior editor recently quit his job, citing ‘corruption and a hostile working environment.’Mr. Otieno Amisi, a seasoned journalist and graduate of the University of Nairobi’s school of journalism, quit his job at the helm of The Link last week, complaining of poor remuneration and hostile working conditions.

Amisi blames the publisher — the Institute of Civic Affairs and Development (Icad) which is widely respected for chronicling abuse of office and corruption in government — of ‘intellectual dishonesty and abuse.’The 18 month old publication, funded by the Embassy of Finland and the United States Agency for International Development (USAid), has also been experiencing financial trouble since donors withdrew funding last March. A team of auditors has been camping at the paper’s offices in Nairobi’s South C area for the last two months. Insiders say the director, an aspirant for the Bondo parliamentary seat, has embezzled funds to the tune of Kshs. 30 million and bought himself three flashy cars and two mansions in some of Nairobi’s up market residences.

Icad, a respected anti corruption watch dog body founded in 1999, is perhaps more famous for its annual report on the performance of  members of parliament than its monthly newspaper, The Link, which exposes corruption in government and civic society organizations. But insiders say the institute director, Gideon Ochanda is corrupt.

“I was being robbed intellectually. Fellow workers took credit for my project proposals and other work. I was overworked and underpaid. Incredibly, I was a sub editor, distributor, salesman, photo-editor and  proofreader, positions for which I was never paid.” He says his attempts to start a sales and circulation department and streamline the editorial office have been thwarted by the internal fighting in the organization.

Ochanda, however, says he has been dissatisfied with the performance of the entire team – comprising regional editors for Nyanza, (Joseph Ngome) Western (Dorah Nesoba) and Eastern (Martin Masai) for losing the original vision of the paper and engaging in petty quarrels with each other. The institute’s Programme Manager Veronica Nduva says Amisi has been on leave since last month. She refused to respond to any further questions from journalists. But insiders say a hate campaign against the beleaguered editor has been raging ever since Amisi, the more educated of the writers, was made National editor of the paper. They say the campaign is led by Martin Masai, a burly former government reporter who rose to managing editor of the then government owned Kenya Times by publishing public relations stories for political bigwigs.

They also say a sizzling-hot love affair between Ochanda and the pretty but arrogant Ms. Nduva has made it difficult for the staff to live up to the organisation’s ideals.Staff at the institute who requested anonymity say Ochanda, who works full time with a Nairobi based donor organisation, is too busy to give direction to the organization and has let his sexual exploits interfere with professionalism. They accuse Mrs. Nduva of arrogance and high handedness.

Amisi is remembered for pioneering the respected but short-lived literary journal New Age in the early 1990s. He rose from a rural correspondent in the depths of South Nyanza to sub editor at the features desk of the country’s leading dailies. His leadership at The Link was most visible in providing editorial guidance and training of freelance and rural-based journalists. A trained teacher, he also started several school magazines and writers’ clubs, besides writing the paper’s style book.

Started two years ago, The Link is the brainchild of a network of rural based writers going by the name  Kenya Correspondents Association. The association is headed by a seasoned freelance writer, Oloo Janak, who teamed up with Ochanda to persuade the Embassy of Finland to pump in Kshs. 30 million into the project. Ochanda is a leading civic education expert and governance consultant.Intrigues aside, the authoritative 32 page monthly is largely viewed as a classic for Kenya in development and investigative journalism. It also documents development activities in Kenya, focusing on usage of public funds like Local Authority Transfer funds, the Constituency development funds, the Constituency Bursary fund, Aids funds and the Roads Levy fund. The paper’s greatest strength has been its unique focus on rural development news, especially education, human rights, environment and health.Several television, radio and newspaper stations have come up since a new government came to power three years ago.

But while media houses are falling over each other to take advantage of the new wave of freedom, newspaper management is still a tricky business in Kenya. A punitive legislation, forbidding paper costs and low readership means few publications live beyond their first birthday. But many promising newspapers have fallen by the wayside due to bad management practices. Many media owners lack training in media management or business and do not have the money to invest in good managers. Many are simply over-ambitious pseudo journalists out to make a kill on sleaze and slander, while the rest are NGO periodicals aspiring to fill the gap created by a glaring lack of credible weeklies and monthly newspapers.

Often, the print run and quality is low, while the level of editing is nothing to write home about. Moreover, the government still maintains an invisible hold on revenue by influencing advertisers against what are perceived to be ‘unfriendly’ media houses. Though journalists here rank among the best in the third world and the country boasts of a vibrant press by African standards, Kenya’s scribes are frequently underpaid and editors overworked.  Ms. Nesoba has been called from Kisumu to take over the Nairobi position, while Amisi is said to be eying a UN job. 

Reader’s responses on “Write that Story”

Hi mwalimu,

Hi mwalimu, This book (Write that Story) is a must read for any aspiring/practising journalist. It has broken new ground for the profession in the country as a piece written by our very own for our very own. I’ll strive to own the hard copy as soon as it hits the market. Regards. Alex Musumba.

Hi Amisi, I have had the opportunity to read about your new book on feature writing and editing. I was thrilled! I am raring to get a copy of your book. Where can I channel the money? which account number?  James Opiayo Kutai, Nakuru

Hello Mr amisi,

Bravo for your new book though I have not read it but of cause I will make an effort and buy it. Bye. Ouma wanzala, Busia-Kenya.

Kudos omera! This is what i call divine literary progress.poetry’s horizons continue to be expanded.Let poets converge on the altar of creation and experience something like this. This indeed,is an encouragement to upcoming writers. Am with you in this journey all the way.kik isungri. Jacob okech, Nairobi.

On Tue, 14 Aug 2007 20:22:27 +0300 Charles Ibrahim Ombijah wrote:

Amisi, Good evening!! Your book comes handy; I must buy with my pay this month. Kudos Mwalimu! Remember my handwritten manuscript on the play ‘The Canker’ which never went beyond your watchful wisdom in your residence at Homabay in 1998. Surely, Creative Ventures have come a long way!!!! May the blessings of Thou Great Architect, Creator of Heavens & earth bless thou works, Amen. Regards.

Dear Amisi, Thanks so much for reaching out. I was pleased that you are still venturing creatively. No one can deny the determination with which you have pushed on in our rather financially unrewarding field–in such a materialistic environment. You have done a good job of e-publishing. It’s the way for us writers to go. Keep it up. Have a good week Adrian.

New comment by Adrian Onyando

Creative Ventures has endured the test of time and fire. Go for it Amisi! Creativity will never die! We in the creative fraternity are proud of you.

Nature’s Child

Save Lake Victoria 

Look, look

Look to the East and look to the West

Look to the North and look to the South

All you see is nothing but green

A green wide pitch on a once clean lake

And men and women in deadly machete games

Fishing fellow men from precious life

Who will save lake Victoria ?  

Listen listen

To the muffled breathing of the lifeless sea

Listen to the silence of a lifeless life force

All you hear is nothing but despair

A strangled plea of waves arrested in leap

By the tangling, throttling, choking weed

Who will save Lake Victoria?

Listen, listen

To the ululations of Apiny

Listen to her listless footsteps

As she flees from her defeated husband

Cows, goats, riches and all

Women and children and runaway granaries

Who will quell the fury of a jilted senior wife? 

Look look at Nyamgondho the son of Ombare

Pondering his ill fate

Dumb struck by a silent shore

Stuck on his walking stick

Struck by the second wind

Of imminent abject poverty

Who will save wuod Ombare? 

Listen listen,

Listen to the pitiful cry of sea farers

Trapped in the hyacinth In sight but out of reach

So near here and yet so far away

Listen to the pleas of lost fishermen

Unable to bring their catch ashore

Who will save Lake Victoria?   

Who will save Lake Victoria?

Who will save the stranded fishermen?

Who will soothe the scorching fury

Of Apiny nyar Lowo?

Who will save the drowning hippo

And the trapped tilapia?

Who will save Lake Victoria? 

And the muffled Mbuta and the strangled Ngege

Who will hack away the hyacinth

So the fish and the people may be free again

To breathe the clean air of prosperity

And drink of the fresh waters of nam Sango?

Who will save Lake Victoria?  

Come, come

Come my people, come

With your machetes and swords and pangas 

Come from the forests and the hills

Of Gucha andTransmara… 

Come you sons of Asembo and Owila

Come you daughters of Kano and Nyakach

From the shoulders of the Rift Valley

From the plains and the valleys come

Come let’s save Lake Victoria!    

Mother Sango  

To thee I come,

Mother Sango  

Numbed 

by the twang of metal

by the putrefaction of a dying city

by the vain splash of a receding sunset

To thee I come, Mother Sango. 

Let me drink of your deepest springs

Oozing from the radiant moon of early eve … 

Let me bare my broken baby bones

To the morning winds cool and fresh

Let me dance with the silvery fish

in the gentle rhythm of mid day sea.  

To thee I come,

Mother Sango

to my people

Tall as truth

Timeless Healthy and hearty.  

The Sea  

Our sea,

placid, beautiful and serene

a trillion times trillion gallons of raw liquid

lying low beneath a canvas blue

reflecting mysteries incomprehensible

A million million stars at play

round and round a maternal eye

and mountains of waves ferried and hurled

hurled and lulled

on everlasting rock.

Ah! the sea!   

River River on the Rocks 

River river on the rocks

Tell me just how far you’ve come

How many feet have crossed you

Tell me where you go from here

Or why you talk to your self

In that one ceaseless hum   

River river on the rocks

Do you hear those whispers hey

Trees and leaves and grass and cane

Calling, “river don’ go yonder!

Or you break into a thousand foams  

River river on the rocks

Tell me just how deep and cold

Are the waters of your bosom.

Tell me just how much love

Is embraced in your wings so cool. 

Mbita Point

There’s nothing like the feel of wet sand

seeping slowly between your toes  

Nothing like the cool of the clear morning water

over your waking shoulders.  

Mbita Point

There’s nothing quite like the ebb and tide

The lull of the half sleeping sea

breathing in rhythm with the earth waking

slowly… so slowly…

to the chuckle of the red-necked birds.

The gentle waves lapping,

licking the sleepy lips of sea rocks

like a tired a giant hippo

on and on,

on and on,

back and forth

this wave this way,

that wave this way

salient, stagnant, silent, yet

alive and vibrant.

At Mbita Point 

There’s nothing quite like a morning bath

by the beach 

in Victoria’s clear waters

watched by the red-necked Masou birds

and the tired fishermen

returning from the midnight catch

Ah the lone virgin peeping behind the reeds.

There’s nothing quite like a morning bath

at Mbita Point.    

Love songs

Pulsations

The warmth of her heart!

The feel of her pulse! –

The love in her eyes! .

That smile-

for years withdrawn

From public gaze

From ogling eyes-

You could have sighed

To see her by the fire glow

But no so me 

For seeing her thus

I felt her pulse

 with joy and love.

Elusive Treasure

When you sit down to a delicious meal

and in wafts the nausea of undiscovered love

and you haven’t an appetite any more…

When you lay your head to sleep

And your lover’s ghost

breathes in your ear

and you cannot sleep one wink

When you open a book to read

and out pops a once-loved portrait

and you cannot read another line…

When you are rapt in thought

and your mind drifts a far

Into the misty distance …

Your shadow eludes my firmest grip

Your night evades my widest grip

By life’s shores I seek your golden footprints.

Oh return some strength to my battered bones

Oh, refresh my mind with thy mighty picture

Ob, wash my face with fresh milk of your eye

Oh cleanse my breath with your fragrant paste

Oh cover my nakedness with blankets warm

Linda

Chancing upon a pretty rose

One noon day by dusty country bushes

(Is this how people meet?)

I thought I finally found fondness

(Or was it love?)

But tripped and nearly fell headlong

Drunk with the potent wine of her presence.

‘Oops, sorry!’, She said and sighed

Heavy in heart, I said and sighed

‘It’s nothing!’

It was love at fast sight

(A bus came a long

on we hoped, eyes ogling)

Life’s long miles take us far

Over bulging, breaking bridges

Under trembling tunnels of trouble

the duel demands daft decorum

and there’s no letting up..

“We have nothing,” I say, “Let’s quit.”

‘We have love,” she says. ‘Let’s stick.”

Life’s busy buses pass us by

and we must catch up

the weather is harsh

the roses wither…

But we’re up with the dusk

When the winds are dry

and though the bus breaks down again

We’ve learnt to wait and mend

Along life’s endless journey.

Letter From A Park

I got your letter the other day

Sweet memories flooded my demented mind

recreated those sugary times no more shared

By the park ere we bade a tearful bye

I relived those endless nights

of wakeful emptiness

that threatened my sanity

I got your letter the other day.

I got your letter the other day

Re-shed the tearful words we once shared

Re-heard your thundering, expectant heartbeat

Pulping a strange rhythm that lost its beat

You’ll sigh at my sorry sight

as do those who sit by my side these days

I am insane since I got your letter the other day

I got you letter the other day

Your letter demented me

In insanity I beheld your distant reality

and multiplied my sane insanity

My haunted heart ghost-beating

Against the skeleton that’s left of me

since I got your letter that day.

Only your creation’s breath remains

In my shattered remains 

Only the miles of movie-reels

Play on my mind’s screen

Like a jilted lover’s dream

since I got your letter the other day.

I Wish You’d Hide Me

I wish you’d hide me

beneath the sea’s sleepy depths

Leave me

to the crab’s cutting claws

there, choking in the sandy salt,

I’d gladly await death.

I wish you’d hide me

beneath the heavy rocks

of Kit Mikayi

Under the massive granites

of Maseno

there, my nothingness

flattened

l’ d sadly soak in the godly cold.

I wish you’d tie me tight

Drag me behind a rusty rover

Across the rocky Tsavo

my bones,

searing in the heated vastness

would love you

even more.

I wish you’d strangle me

On a web or string of gun

Fly me over the sea

my heart

tumbling down

would beat harder for you.

I wish you’d strangle me

with a long, long rope

Like the railway line

at Daraja Mbili

my heart, shedding tears of blood

would rightfully cry out to you.

And I would  be yours forever.

What, My Love?

What, my love,

and what, sister of my bosom

What is this pain

gnawing at the bottom

of my heart?

I know, I know

Is the waiting in vain

For the one dear one

That vexes my heart so

What, my love, and what

My sweet-heart

are you the precious gem

the chicken seek in the sand?

I know, I know

I shall seek thee in my dreams

Where the milk of your eyes

Glitters like gold

blinding my unbelieving eye

What my love,

and what is this I hear

In the heated market gossip

of women selling omena?

I know, I know

its the pearl in my palms …

shines bright …

eluding the embrace

of my yearning,

mortal fingers.

The Minute Hand of My Clock

The minute hand of my clock

is immobile without you

time stands still

at times like these

when I know

you’re riding on steel

to places far away

I know you won’t come back

But I say to myself

God bless our home

In self defeat

I write these lines

By candle light

Waiting for the advent

Of another boring day

Another day without you

Another you-less day.

Dear Mum

(Presented on the occasion of Parent’ s Day at Homa Bay High School,October, 1996)

Dear Mum,

I wanted to write you a letter

A poem that would tell

of my first days in this great school

Of my joys and sorrows

away from home

Of my first encounter

with learned gentlemen

And these highly educated

sophisticated lady teachers

Oh, how I wanted to write you a poem!

Dear Mum,

I wanted to write you a letter

A beautiful poem

That you would forever remember

For its rhythmic flow

and wordly grace and shine

A poem of my first meeting

with burning Bunsen burners

My pleasure at rediscovering

the laws of physics

My pride of  belonging

to this great institution

And my hope of becoming

a great someone

Ah, how I wanted to write you a poem!

Dear Mum,

I wanted to write you a poem

A beautiful poem that would tell

Of how I learnt to tie my tie

Like Kantai can tie and untie his tie

And how the big boys bullied me ,

And the quarrelsome cooks croaked at me

Like Oliver Twist of the book

And the perfect prefects pestered me

How the tireless teachers tortured me

With wild cats and black cats

And white cats and more cats

And how I quickly ran out of pocket money

And missed your dear delicious cooking

Ah, how I wanted to write that poem!

Dear Mum,

I wanted to write you a poem

A poem that would be the envy of Shakespeare

A poem of bad tempered teachers

A poem of thanksgiving

To our beloved principal

A poem of thanksgiving to you, my mummy,

For all you did and continue to do

But for now, mummy,

accept this simple poem

Till I learn enough English

Then, Mummy,

I’ll write you the real poem.

That will make you think of Soyinka.

Confessions of a battered husband Part 1

My wife of four years has left me and gone to court. I was recently hospitalized for a month, and I am still unwell. For unexplained reasons, she abandoned me in hospital, only coming on two occasions to demand money from me and to assault me.

When I left hospital, I found out that she had taken most items from our house and had rented her own house elsewhere. She even left with my certificates and my laptop computer. My attempts to get our relatives to resolve the problem have so far failed. I have reported the matter to the Police and the chief, but they all appear to have been blinded with her lies and are not willing to listen to my side of the story. She then came with police and relatives and took away the children and every household item. Thereafter, she came at least three times, in turns, at night, with thugs and her relatives to beat me up.I had to move out of the estate because I feared for my life. I was also still too sick to involve myself in a fight, even if I was provoked.

This is the second time she has deserted me. And the second time she has been violent to me. The first time, she attacked me and took away my ATM card, which she used to take all my savings from the bank.

Though my wife is very rude and a bully, I have tried my best to be a good husband to her and a responsible father to my three children. I treat her relatives and friends with the respect they deserve.I have never fought her physically and I have been paying rent and giving her money regularly for the family upkeep. I took an eighteen year insurance for the children. But she has completely failed to reciprocate or appreciate my efforts. I have tried to persuade her to be open and sincere with me, so we can plan together. But she has blatantly refused to cooperate.

When God blessed us with quadruplets in our second year of marriage, my wife received huge sums of money and gifts from well wishers as a result of the publicity this matter generated. But she has refused to disclose these to me as her husband, yet I continued to shoulder all the responsibilities in the house.Recently, I learnt that she received even more money from well wishers by pretending that I am irresponsible, or jobless or unable to take care of her and the children. This was shortly before she left.

I will urge the court to order her to table all the assistance she obtained by pretending that I am irresponsible or jobless or unable to take care of my children. Unless she accounts for all those millions, I shall feel betrayed if the court forces me to pay even a single cent to her.

If I am dragged to court, I will ask His Honour to note that I am a sick man who has been unable to go to work properly for the last six months. For this, I do not have money for medication or decent housing.

Are you a battered spouse? send me an email so we can grieve together.

otienoamisi@yahoo.com

New World, New Words

Otieno Amisi looks at the latest additions to the English language

Computer crime and health remain the world’s biggest preoccupations, if recent linguistic surveys are anything to go by. Health workers and internet users shored up thousands of new words in the last three years, according to linguists at Oxford University Press. 

Thousands of new words and phrases, including those whose use is increasing but may never enter formal speech or print, were picked by experts at Oxford’s worldwide monitoring programme, which helps put together editions of the widely respected Oxford dictionaries. 

Forget politics and the economy for a moment. The number of new words in health and cybertalk is simply staggering, and the word industry is by far the fastest growing sector in the world today. And the world’s fastest and most prolific word factory  – the internet – is unleashing hundreds of new words everyday into world vocabulary. Interestingly, hundreds of those words are derived from a new, popular and dangerous threat — the internet.

For instance, what do you call a person who spends too much time on the internet? Read on. As more and more people get online – not just to search for information but actually to create their own Net content, the latest uses of the Internet are rapidly spawning a host of new words.  

While many non-Netheads will probably have heard of blogs (personal websites similar to diaries) and bloggers (people who write blogs), Webophobes may not have come across wikis or blikis yet.  The world’s largest dictionary or source of information is no longer the encyclopedia. It is the wikipedia, a type of website developed collaboratively by a group of users, and can be easily added to or edited by anyone in a process known as ‘open editing’.  Wikipedia is an online encyclopedia that anyone can contribute to.

A bliki or a bloki is a blog that allows users to edit and add content . Blog is a verb shortening of weblog, which was first used in 1999 before being combined with other words to create new blends and compound words, which are generating even more words in their turn.  These are some recent internet related words just entered into the latest edition of the authoritative Concise Oxford English Dictionary.

·                                 blogdom/blogosphere/blogworld – the world of blogs and blogging. ·                                 vlog (also called a video-blog) – a blog with video footage ·                                 blogorrhea – the tendency to fill a blog with too much trivial material. ·                                 blogroll – a part of a blog listing links to other blogs.

·                                 phlog -  a blog which includes photos But the internet is not the only source of new words. Current English, according to the new11th edition of the Concise Oxford English Dictionary, would be incomplete without words like  abdominoplasty, aerobicized ,agroterrorism, celebutante, crunk, hardscape and mentee. 

Our own Swahili has also added to the growing English language. For instance, you can now say ‘Mzee’ confidently when talking in English without flinching. ‘mzee’ is entered as “noun (in East Africa) an older person; an elder. origin Kiswahili, ‘ancestor, parent, old person’. Increasing worldwide obsession with health matters has added new dimensions to the world’s most respected language. Weight watching has given us new terms like “obesogenic -adj. tending to cause obesity, and therapize, a surgical operation involving the removal of excess flesh from the abdomen.

There is also aerobicized or aerobicised, adj. (of a person’s body) toned by aerobic exercise. And instead of jogging to lose weight, you can go for a form of cosmetic surgery called mesotherapy, n. a procedure in which multiple tiny injections of pharmaceuticals, vitamins, etc. are delivered into a layer of tissue under the skin to promote the loss of fat or cellulite.Other new medical terms include: bleachorexia: an obsession with whitening the teeth
vitarexia: vitamin deficiency
tanorexia: an obsession with maintaining a year-round suntan, especially by using sunbeds
weborexia: collective term for websites that promote anorexia and other eating disorders
yogarexia: an obsession with practising yoga to become or stay slim
manorexia: the ‘male version’ of anorexia (since anorexia is typically regarded as a ‘female’ disorder, even though it affects people of both sexes)
bigorexia: (also known as muscle dysmorphia) people with this disorder believe that they are puny (even though they are very muscular) and exercise compulsively to increase muscle bulk.
permarexia: an addiction to faddy slimming diets
brideorexia: referring to brides-to-be who crash-diet before the wedding so as to look good in the photos 

“If we’re not chewing the fat about this weighty issue long into the foreseeable future, I’ll eat my hat.” muses linguist Catherine Soanes.  There is a fat chance of escaping the food controversy. The debate about healthy eating and body weight has been cooking up a storm.”

According to the Concise Oxford English Dictionary, the entertainment industry has yielded riffage: n. informal guitar riffs, especially in rock music. A excited performer is simply a crunk, which also means a type of hip-hop or rap music characterized by repeated shouted catchphrases and elements typical of electronic dance music like prominent bass.

 In the business world, the growth of customer friendly financial services gets a new abbreviation called SIPP, which is a noun for a self-invested personal pension, a pension plan that enables the holder to choose and manage the investments made. agroterrorism means terrorist acts intended to disrupt or damage a country’s agriculture, while bahookieis Scottish for a person’s buttocks, and marketers can now say their product is ‘best of breed’ to mean the item or product considered to be the best of its kind, while politicians can define their misshaps as blowbacks. 

And when Aids strikes a family and they won’t talk about it, we can simply call it an elephant in the room, for  a major problem or controversial issue which is obviously present but avoided as a subject for discussion because it is more comfortable to do so. 

For the builders, there was landscape, but now there is ‘hardscape’ for man-made features used in landscape architecture, e.g. paths or walls, as contrasted with vegetation. So in comes hardscaping .

 Young people under training by a mentor are now called ‘mentees’, and when they are foolish, they become ‘twonks’ who may need urgent ‘upskilling.’  The world of theft is not left behind. There is shoulder-surfing, a term for the practice of spying on the user of a cash-dispensing machine or other electronic device in order to obtain someone’s personal identification number, password, etc.

So someone inching too close as you withdraw cash from the ATM is a ‘shoulder-surfer’. Back to the computer world, zombie refers to a computer controlled by a hacker without the owner’s knowledge, which is made to send large quantities of data to a website, making it inaccessible to other users. 

Cybercriminals are those who seek to subvert the Net for their own gain, break into computer systems, or defraud gullible people. All illegal activities in the virtual world are called Cybercrime and their perpetrators are variously called crackers, scammers, black hats, cybercrooks, spear phishers or 419ers (419 is the section number of the Nigerian penal code under which email scammers are prosecuted in that country). 

Graham Bell is ‘mteja’

A look at cellphone etiquette by Otieno Amisi
There are times when I want to call Alexander Graham Bell, the man who invented the telephone.

I want to tell him how much pain his invention has caused the world. But the old man is always out of coverage area and his phone seems permanently switched off. It is not even on voice mail, and he doesn’t take messages. What a pity for a man who has helped brought the world closer.

Much has been said about the wonders of the telephone. It was perhaps the boldest step in getting the world to become a global village. Sounds could travel faster across the globe, and radio and telephone soon became a reality.

The mobile telephone, with its increased accessibility and affordability, has made the village much smaller. But it has elevated the village wag to monster status. Rumour and falsehood, like suspicion, have acquired the wings of telephony and have gained momentous powers, threatening our once blissful, ignorant, but peaceful coexistence.

Today, thanks to the mobile phone, the unsightly chain of  tense or broken marriages is rising because of  romantic, pseudo poetic short messages written by love struck admirers.  We meet such crazy people all the time, everywhere, and we unwittingly give them our numbers.  

We  hope they and our partners will be sober enough to understand that this is merely inevitable social intercourse, and that a mere number on the phone book or the occasional ‘lewd’ message is no threat to our solid commitment. The list of infidels caught lying to get an excuse for being late for work is longer than the River Nile.

The wonder gadget appears to have brought all manner of undesirable relatives and nasty friends even closer – In one big embrace and for the worse, of course.

In the not so distant past, you could keep away from those you owe money or didn’t like for some reason by simply avoiding their paths or pretending to be dead. Now all your debtor needs to do is press your number and hear your croaking voice pleading for mercy, and you are nailed.

But what has shocked me is the way Kenyans use the telephone. In a popular morning radio, programme a jealous, love-lorn caller rings up a radio station with what she considers ‘big news.’ Between sobs, she complains bitterly that her partner is having an illicit affair. She goes on to provide a number of the suspects.

Then the programme host calls the victim and promises them a paid up holiday at the coast, or a special dedication of some love song, if only they name their lover. Without much thought, the cat is out of the bag. Sometimes the two foolish rivals are left to tear at each other, as the whole country listens in the early morning quiet. I have no problem with the innovative and hugely popular programme. But it is such a shame for people to wash their dirty linen in public.

Most people only find out the name of the caller and what the call was all about after thy have been ‘busted.’The hullabaloo about freedom of expression aside, I believe if someone has a bone to pick with their partner, the last place to do so should be over the radio. Imagine the pain, embarrassment and disappointment it causes everyone who knows both of you.

Besides, it is never the radio host’s business to resolve the conflict, so why not go to a counsellor instead?  

Cell phone etiquette is an endless list of common decency manners that should be observed by all of us. In today’s media-driven society, it is surprising that adults, almost as if they were children, must also be taught proper cell etiquette. The first rule that is constantly broken in telephony is that of confidentiality. Talking too loudly or too animatedly on the cellphone is not only a nuisance to others; it lets your secrets out to anyone within hearing distance. And if you are on radio, knowingly or unknowingly, it is a national shame.

It is rude to interrupt a conversation by answering a cell phone, but people do it all the time. It is unforgivable for phones to ring in a theatre, meeting room or classroom or in quiet libraries, but it happens all the time. And when a driver’s cellphone rings, I get this feeling he is being genicidal. Do you?These days, cell phones even come with digital cameras.

The grandeur of many occasions have been ruined by all manner of amateur photographers struggling to take pictures from all angles. Some of these unflattering pictures end up on web sites and can be further displayed in inappropriate places.

When I was a teacher a few years ago, we dreaded the scientific calculator, the television and the video, which we saw as a distraction of students’ attention. I do not want to imagine what agony teachers are going through with the proliferation of cell phone games, multimedia messaging, e-mail, music, radio and Web browsing that come with mobile phones today. Students already use text messages to pass answers to one another in examinations. It is no longer necessary to hide paper notes in your inner wear as some of us once did. 

Good Telephone Habits

Whether answering the phone or making phone calls, using the proper etiquette is a must in order to maintain a certain level of professionalism. Proper etiquette leaves callers with a favorable impression of you and your work.You’ll also find that others treat you with more respect and are willing to go out of their way to assist you if you use the proper etiquette.
 

Answering Your Phone

§         Answer your calls within three rings.

§         Always identify yourself when you answer the phone.

§         Speak in a pleasant tone

§         Listen actively and listen others without interrupting.

§         When you are out of the office or away from your desk, forward your phone to voicemail.

§         Use the hold button when leaving a line so that the caller does not accidentally overhear conversations being held nearby.

§         If the caller has reached a wrong number, be courteous.  
Making Calls

§         When you call someone and they answer the phone, do not say “Who is that?” without first identifying yourself: Say, “This is _______. Who am I speaking to?” §         Say what you want clearly and quickly.

§         When you reach a wrong number, don’t argue with the person who answered the call or keep them on the line. Say: “I’m sorry, I must have the wrong number. Please excuse the interruption.” And then hang up.

§         If you make appointment to call someone, do so promptly. If you will not be able to talk to them at the agreed time, call to postpone. Do not make the other person wait around for your call.

§         Leave a number/message for someone to call you back. 

Amisi’s new book of poetry reviewed

Adrian Onyando reviews Otieno Amisi’s poetry 

East African publishers and their readers have made the personal anthology something of a literary anathema. With the few exceptions of the so-called established poets like Taban lo Liyong’, Micere Githae Mugo and Jared Angira, poets generally do not enjoy seeing their works in print. Consequently, Taban’s diagnosis of literary barrenness in East Africa still holds true especially in the realm of poetry, and particularly in the sub genre of the personal anthology.

Part of this predicament is attributed to poor readership and the resultant small market for such works. The East African literary market is largely school textbook oriented, and by some kind of strange logic, editors and educationists have decided that only anthologies of mixed authorship can meet the criteria for set-books. Apart from denying us the rewarding study of a single, imaginative development and behaviour, this practice also creates myths for its own self- justification. Foremost in this myth -making process is the assumption that only a mixed anthology is representative geographically as well as thematically. It is not always the case.

Otieno Amisi has commended himself to us by presenting to us the consummation of the merits and pleasures of a personal anthology. Back to the Future is hardly individualized: It is the kind of collection which proves that the personal is also societal, and that a single collection can grapple with so many issues as to be representative of the continent’s poetic concerns.

The first poem in the anthology, Thirty Years of Africa opens the ground for the critical assessment of post independence Africa. Thirty years of independence are crucial for they point to the direction Africa will take in the new millennium, basing our judgment on how well we have dealt with our manifest problems, which include the after effects of colonialism and the side effects of modernity.

In Amisi’ s realistic estimation, not only have thirty years of dismal performance failed to eradicate the banally publicized problems of poverty and strange diseases, but have also ushered in new sets of problems heard in the resounding of heavy boots, guns and bombs, and also seen in the plight of refugees (A Refugee Song).

For a sensitive poet like Amisi, it is appropriate to present Africa in a series of unflattering metaphors like the disorderly law making parliament, a ring of mightily fit bully boxers, a jungle, and of course that other name for disorder -the Kenyan matatu taxi.

The misrule in our leadership of course, will for long stand as a monument of shame and degradation in Africa’s troubled history. Amisi does not hesitate to show the leaders in their true picture: hypocritical, arrogant and even downright silly.

If only beggars would brush their teeth  juxtaposes the erratic leadership (ironically on an urgent nation -building mission) with the self-created social problems manifest in the begging “’street families” and the squalor of their condition. The insensitivity of the government official’s self assurance and the pride of his destructive activities ironically climax in his flight from the reality he has created to a posh home and a deceptive future:

My dear Musso, Take me home To the other city Where I belong. The city of the future  

If lack of vision is a hallmark of African leadership, so is tyranny, which is designed to prop it up against the possible popular uprising. In Elephant Song the poet uses that jungle symbol of absolute rule — the elephant — to give hope to the repressed masses. One can detect Martin Luther King JR’ s hopefully prophetic message in Amisi’ s song:

Free at last, free at last, We are free at last!

It is these streaks of hope that make Amisi’ s works more than just poems of protest or victim narratives. The evils and their perpetrators are seen more as belonging to an ephemeral stage in our history marked by something akin to labour pains preceding a new birth.

Thus while a poem like The Grand March ends not in the intended freedom but disillusionment borne out of compromise of principles. Elephant Song is indeed a victory

song, consonant with the mood of optimism which graces even the bleakest poems.

What emerges here is clear: the poet reserves the right to prophesy doom, but is also observant enough to point out the first gleam of light in the morning of a new era.

While the struggle for justice and social freedom may be long drawn out, there are other  concerns, which require immediate action. Both A Tough War and Save Lake

Victoria are wake-up calls against a dreaded disease and the disruptive water hyacinth weed on Lake Victoria. The tone of urgency and rhetorical devices indicate the fight should be underway and that the poems should be transformed into work songs:

It is a tough war, a tough war And a global thing ’tis now we can fight, Fight right now’ or never  

It is informative to read the author’s preface that such a poem as “Aids” was composed in a workshop situation and later presented as a choral verse in the schools music festival. Talking of functional poetry, one would ill afford to gloss over these work(shop) songs, however few they are, for they provide the link between the poet as an initiator of and mobilizer for social action and the poet as an active participant in the events of his day.

Salient features in the history of Kenya do not escape the poet for their symbolic significance. Thus Saba Saba riots in Kenya (Saba Saba) is a local event but with universal ramifications, for it expresses the second wave of liberation struggle in Africa (which in Kenya led to the first multi-party elections). The same universality claim can also be laid to Violence Without Robbery and For Robert Ouko, which talk of political murders bedeviling the modern African state, particularly Kenya. The poet probes into the riots and the murders, offering implications and publishing the authors of the hineous acts:

Now we know who killed him

Now we know who killed him… …

To be in the know in such a context as the killing of a popular politician or clergyman (as were Dr. Robert Ouko and Bishop Alexander Kipsang Muge) is itself courageous, for the knowledge itself is an offence punishable even by death. And the victims acquire the status of a martyr on the altar of justice.

If African writers have made much of politics and society in their works, so has Amisi, but the thrust of his poetry also lies in another direction. Nature, with and without its symbolic value, provide a fertile ground for the poet’s exploration of different moods.

Dispossessed, alienated and frustrated, the poet’s heart finds sanctuary in nature, which is characterized, generally, as the vortex of beauty and tranquility (The Sea, Rainbow Song). invincible dignity and glory (The Rocks of Kit Mikayi) and the unfailing hospitality and protection of home (Mother Sango, and Nyandiwa).

Between being a lover of nature and being an environmental activist (as in Save Lake Victoria) is only a thin, blurred line; and the poet takes advantage of all the possibilities, emotional and thematic, offered by nature.

However, in relating nature to the society, the romantic appeal wanes and we come face to face with the slime and grime and the madness reflected in a single river (Nyandiwa). In a nutshell, the poet’s love of nature, particularly in the water masses, is neatly tempered with his sensitivity to the evils in the society including environmental pollution.

It is in poems in which the poet defines his role that we again notice a convergence of different concerns. The poet’s life is a dangerous one because of his fighting nature and the unpopularity of his profession. (The Artist Lives Dangerously). He is principled, and oriented toward a just cause, but is not immune to the frailties of the talented personalities:

Let poets heap unmeant praises On tyranny and corruption For leaders, being God’s choicest sons Are hard to come by And His Excellency is only one  (…Let poets Sing)  

Apart from being the conscience of the present-day society, the poet is also the custodian of a glorious past. So entrenched is the poet’s love for the past that one could say that the only place to find authentic values and happiness is in the traditions. The title poem “Back to The Future” argues for a return to the past- “Give the pumpkin another chance..” for the side effects of modem civilization far outweigh its advantages. The poem entitled” Happiness” also emphasizes on the value of traditionalism, complete with its music, symbolized in the nyatiti. One could contrast the spontaneous dance of the nyatiti to the heavy, artificial and dreary dance of development in the poem “The City”.

As one who has found use of the rejected cornerstone of traditionalism, the poet leads the way in homecoming, rather like Okigbo in “Heavensgate“. For instance, in the poem “Mother Sango” the poet is a prodigal returned to a watery presence. Echoes of Okigbo’s Mother Idoto are all too obvious. Amisi’s indebtedness to Okigbo is expressed in the poem ‘To Chris Okigbo’ in which he tries to immortalize the poet by paying tribute to his literary-cultural career.

As a literary grandson of Okigbo, Amisi also engages in universal themes such as love and its precariousness, the values of sexuality, and the warmth of human companionship.

These poems by Amisi are about Africa in all its aspects- politics, nature, emotions, society and culture. They ring with tones rich in melody and rhythm -sound is arguably Arnisi’s strongest mettle. In the simplicity of the diction and syntax lies profound meaning to be gleaned through wit and irony. The language sometimes sounds like nursery rhymes even when the themes are serious

My learned brother, he too sings.

The song of the torah

Ten are too many

Ten are too many

Some appendages must go

(“I. Hear My Mother Singing..”.)

But it would be unfair to fail to mention that Amisi’ s language is in character and its oral ring reminds us that we have come closer home, to Africa, with its troubled politics and vibrant culture. These poems will go a long way in introducing the student of African poetry to the rich variety of African poetic themes and styles all through one poetic personality -Otieno Amisi.

Adrian Onyando, a lecturer in Creative Writing  at Egerton University, Kenya, is author of over thirty creative works, including fiction, nonfiction, and poetry. Amisi’s poems are available on: www.poemsfromkenya.blogspot.com