Haunted

31.October.2010
Halloween here...

I wrote this poem in 2001. I was inspired when I found it today. It was in a printed out email to Diana who used to work with HABITAT in Nairobi. When I was reading it, I at first thought I was reading a letter from Diana to me but it was the opposite. I liked the first line..

Dear Diana,

How are you doing? Just some questions for you and a poem to share. Remember the International Women s Day card woman?

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxon I went. A woman appointed politician had given me two appointments and canceled them. Diana had asked me to see her because she run an NGO dealing with empowering women. ..but I ended up saying.. "..but I am still going strong. You may have read some articles recently in the Nation. One on alcoholism and the devastating effects on women and families. It is the men who drink mainly. I should have said the other was about myself and my work in the villages and my desire to change the way our local councils were run. I was urging young people to go in great numbers into local governance. .. I ended up saying .. "It must be busy towards Istanbul+5.

That was the time. My own letter inspired me many years later. I can tell that I so much wanted help for my project to move young people to run in local councils. And I was doing that myself later in two months because there was a by election. I must write an essay on that interesting experience. My diary was carried in the Daily Nation then in the pages edited by Makokha on Fridays. He got some trouble after he run that article. He was so gracious. He did not share the absolute details. But I still remember the senior editor who was annoyed at my having been so well covered! ha! ha! ha! Nothing stops some of us.


Fools.. stop(**That year, president Moi on International Day called women fools.. and they clapped.... as he spoke. Only a couple of them were disgruntled. It was replayed on BBC for a long time.

We met a woman Mau Mau fighter who was disabled. Pinky Ghelani, then Miss India Kenya organised for a wheelchair through Dr. Thakkar of Avenue Clinic and we got her a wheelchair. It was inspiring to see someone who had not left her houses for years look around the village and smile. The smiling woman said, "let us go to church." Many children followed us around the village singing. This was sad but inspiring too.

Haunted

I am haunted...
By images of women
Who can't move any more.

Women who lie
In social commas
Waiting to tie
The knot with the Full stop.

Women who looked at
the fools stop*
While singing the cheap song
Os some free kingdom
and lost their gait.

They stopped dancing on
African paths altogether,
the load on their back
was too heavy - firewood,
Fire without a flicker for their warmth.


But could they have changed
it for a colorful basket?


Now I'm haunted by
Women sitting on
plastics made by men.
They threw away the sack,
for small change.


I am haunted by deliriously learned women!
I'm haunted by their exclamations and
Question marks?

And still I see immobile women
who were once movers.
Ng'endo, once a Mau Mau figther
Now slithering along her back.

Rose and Rose submerged.
One by a bomb, made by hands of men
The other without shelter, dying
because mean drove the dozers
which demolished homes...

And another and others, imprisoned by
poverty and poor health...no -one to stroke
their tired backs.

Women blind and heavy with child.
Woman sick and child dying and sick too.
Dying of Aids without aid,
-of diarrhoea, tuberculosis burns and pneumonia still,
And many, so many , dying of hunger,
They haunt me all...

Yet
Still must I dream, for the dawn must come.
Must come in Africa too.



Haunted

It is not the camera.. it is the eye

The photographs are beautiful. Look at that Leopard coming down a big tree. Martti Lintunen Finland and made this photo in Kenya and all these wonderful pictures in Kenya. He is published by Gummerus in Finland. He has more than 60 books to his name. His great grandfather was a photographer as was his grandfather. The good eye runs in the family. The book Savannin Sankarit is beautiful. What is splendid about it is that Lintunen has given PEN Kenya the right to publish this book in Kenya, Norway or elsewhere. Thank you for a practical way of showing solidarity with us and helping build our centre Martti Lintunen of Finland.

Thank you very much for the kind dedication to me and our determined efforts to grow! This is great. It is inspiration walking the talk!

Martti Lintunen says that for him a photograph is a way of taking notes.. it is a note he makes and can write from it. Thank you very much M. Lintunen. Soon I will have a photograph of your book put up here!

The other book you gave to me and signed: To Philo Who does not forget. The message is after you saw my poems and how I do not want to forget our history and how people have suffered a long the way. Thanks for that, I did not know it. But more important is to see that you wrote for children who in their lives might have to deal with a very difficult issue. The suicide of a loved one.

Thank you for sharing
for baring what many cover
thank you.

I am very inspired by this kind gesture and the extent to which writers go to give what they have and to share words so that others can find meaning. Thanks.

Afrika's Kup

Afrika’s World Kup is Mandela


By Philo Ikonya
© 18th July 2010


Afrika’s world Kup
is always lifted up,
it’s made of gold from
Johannesburg,
where I mine family tears,
of hope.

In the world today, July 18th,
All hands in service become Mandela’s,
Our mothers and many other winners,
of freedom marathons are lifted up.
daily Our feet of bronze we give in,
to be part in this Afrika that smiles.

So we too, lift her Kup up,
And fill her with own diamonds,
from her waist in the Congo,
and her Angola dances all the way,
enough water in exile,
near the Nile’s extra miles.

Afrika’s Kup is full,
without the pull of Aids attached.
and AID with strings so strapped.
Look at the sun setting on this Kup,
faded and fading, the biggest star.
But we lift this Kup high,
with pride and love we can!
Mandela the world celebrates you
today,
We, forever!

Happy Birthday Mandela !

World's Cupped Challenges

The Unexpected Nordic Headache



If you do not take pride in the Sami,
display their costumes and ways,
and let us hear their tune in the Maasai,
If you cover lineage thus descended,
How can I expect that you wish me a win,
me a win in our world cup?
Me a stranger darkly knocking at your door?

If at home I cannot accept my tribal neighbour,
and I seek refuge and cry out against racism,
how strange should I say I am,
this is not even Pythagoric, Greek wisdom is
quite straightforward- I fear the finances are not.

Spain has brought the World Cup home, but you tremble
When you hear her name, the next bridge financially shaken,
How should I expect the sound of a continent that mines gold,
diamonds and bronze but remains starving, to ever make sense to you?

But how will your eye pass beyond, beside the singing river in town,
Romany, Romany sing again and again, heads down scarves on,
romance dead, times bad, times hot and cold all the time,
Give me a crown Ma, Give me a crown, give me a kroner,
Just one kroner, my wife and I and my children are starving,
as did our ancestors. Give me a crown Mum on Monday and on Saturday,
every day, Ma.

How can I expect a total, if I never say I know the whole,
How can I hive out a corner, call it my percentage of the age,
How can I then expect those not in the circle,
to sing a song that all will hear?
Who will cover the world with a cupped hand and shout justice?

Philo

Bantu Mwaura's first anniversary, I celebrate his poem The Cactus

I would like to remember Bantu Mwaura with a poem that tells of his strength as a person and thinker. A poem which in hard times inspires me.

Cactus

Sand
Water-less, and
Dry, drrry
Dust
That's the environ

But even then, green
Albeit the sandy dirty green,
Thorny and brutal
Because of the brutal surround
Yet
Fleshy and juicy
Amidst the brutal dry dust

What will!
What power!
What strength!

That will to be
against non- existence
The power to live
amidst death
The strength to grow
against all odds
To strength
amidst all weakness

The cactus
Defies
The social laws.

Bantu Mwaura




Bantu Mwaura will always be remembered in Kenya and beyond for his good work. I will remember him as one who was a sentinel on duty for a people through his pen. May he be in peace. We will live in hope inspite of the pain of his early departure. Shailja Patel, a poet and author of Migritude is spot on with a memorial to be held on 8th May at the Kenya National Theatre.

She posted the appeal below for we must see Makeba and Mekatilili, Bantu's children continue to live the life they lived when their father was alive. Bantu Mwaura left us on 27th April 2009 in comforting Susan and the young family he left behind, we are in solidarity with a great colleague gone beyond the borders of breathing.


Dear Friends,

There will be a first anniversary memorial celebration for Bantu Mwaura at the Wasanii Restaurant (Kenya National Theater) on Saturday 8th May from 2:00-6:30pm. An exhibition will also take during the event. If you would like to present anything during this event kindly let me know and I will pass the information to the organizing committee.

Thank you. Your presence will be highly appreciated. (Kindly invite additional people not included in this listing)

Warm Regards,
Susan Bantu
sbantu@brookhouse.ac.ke
Psychology Teacher; School Counselor and Roundsquare Rep.
Brookhouse International School.
________________________________________

Bantu Mwaura Children Fund
Bantu's family and friends have now set up an education fund for his daughters: Makeba, aged eight, and six-year-old MeKatilili. Bantu was passionate about learning, as a scholar and teacher. This fund is a way to support his children on their educational journey, and honor the memory and legacy of our friend.

This account will be drawn only thrice a year, exclusively to pay for the children’s school fees. Please circulate this information to others who knew and valued Bantu.

Checks, transfers or deposits should be directed to:

Account Name: THE BANTU MWAURA C. E. FUND
Account number: 0151306093400
Bank: Standard Chartered Bank, Moi Avenue, Nairobi, Kenya

For quick assistance at the bank ask for:

Mr. Kinyanjui Kombani (The Business Financial Consultant- Standard Chartered Bank)
Email: Joseph.Kombani@standardchartered.com

Contributions can also be sent via Western Union, PostaPay or Mpesa to:

Mrs. Susan K. Bantu
Cell: + 254 720 318 984
Collection point: Nairobi-Kenya

Any questions can be send to:

bantumwauraeducationfund@yahoo.com

or

Mrs. Susan K. Bantu
Cell: +254 720 318 984)
Email: wanbantu@gmail.com


Bantu Mwaura

Cactus

Sand
Water-less, and
Dry, drrry
Dust
That's the environ

But even then, green
Albeit the sandy dirty green,
Thorny and brutal
Because of the brutal surround
Yet
Fleshy and juicy
Amidst the brutal dry dust

What will!
What power!
What strength!

That will to be
against non- existence
The power to live
amidst death
The strength to grow
against all odds
To strength
amidst all weakness

The cactus
Defies
The social laws.

Bantu Mwaura

Am What did you think? I am so proud am Afrrican!! Watched Good Hair movie?

In my village if you suddenly said you were proud of, in this case it might be about, something, people asked you who asked you? Well, I am not in my village right now and if they did, by the way now they would not cos they wait to hear what I say since am supposed to know, but now the strange thing is that the world might ask the same question!

I actually thought that saying one is proud of race and color and hair was old ... like you know.. James Brown.. Am black and proud.. but eeh? As again they would say at home, eeeh? or iiiii, is it?

Travelling and living in western capitals major ones and also villages in this part of the world.. you re-learn that people have never got too settled with black skins. I am so happy to be in mine.. I do not know if am more African than my caucasian friend Kari but I know from children I have met here and from my own experiences in the west that race/color issues have not come down by degrees ... sad but isn't it true? Well, am not sad! I am so proud and always so happy just to be, that I even envy myself at times! And I love the babies and children who almost always want to jump out of their prams to check if they saw right and am ever surprised by the parents who can never tell why their 3, 4 year old is insisting on lagging behind and they pull them up. I think this rule of do not stare has killed our natural tendencies.. Welcome to Africa! In some rural parts the kids will just run after you and sing.. sometimes they will say mzungu.. not hiding what they have seen.. and you will just have to love it if you want to stay sane ( like my friend) because no one will stop them and they will be many! Natural wonder.

Today am very happy I found this blog.. on an Easter morning.. talk about resurrections! I have always wondered about my African hair! I sing to it cos I love it!

http://www.buzzle.com/articles/dreadlocks-how-to-maintain.html


I have just been getting crazy thinking what we got into with chemicals in our hair and not loving our natural skin ( mine is by the way just in case.. ) and hair. I was so proud to sit and watch Good Hair in Innvik, Oslo during Africa Cinema week just before Easter 2010!! I was so happy that I have been a natural hair girl for so long and only had a crazy interlude which is over.. .when chemicals knocked on all our doors.. But I remember always the frustration of Rose my hairfriend in her hair salon in Westlands! I would get all done and she would be combing every single hair smooth and then I would jump and ask her.. is there anything you can do to make it rough!! to make it "kinky looky even if silki!?". She would eye me troubled.. locks were not common, I was supposed to be trendy...in a posh embassy office! Then I got my last quarter of hair in the nape.. dreadedd.. and in Central Province when some women discovered it as I went about doing some social work, they asked me if I am Mungiki as did police in Nairobi last year.. now that I have a full head of locks seemed to think!

And before that Rosie as we used to call her, had coped with doing my hair by washing it and then plaiting it immediately.. even when it had chemicals and undoing it after drying it to give me a wild and kinky look... and it had worked for sometime!! And then, after 2007 elections with the violence.. I cut off my long hair.. all of it!! and now feeling so happy that campaigns and social work where dress mattered like that.. and not in an office.. i could lock my hair.. I did that! Someone did it for me.. I could not wait for the first growth to lock it! My hair is soft and I had a hard time locking it and am so happy to know that unlike people believe.. it can be so clean and healthy.

I now wash and style my hair on my own.. cannot believe it.. but this is what made me so happy when I watched Good Hair and sat there seeing the tortured heads of our sisters and brothers.. and human hair! I had never put this extension of human hair on my head!! I simply could not believe the price and the name! And I always asked my friend Rosie why it was called Human Hair? And she always told me it was from horses and etc.. cos something would make me think if it it human hair.. it should be my own..

Ooops.. in Good Hair I get to discover this is...is... human hair and is shorn off women in India!1n the temple.. Oh, no!

But this is hair thing is a big industry.. and it does get to women most! But look if you can have 1 000 dollars on your head.. well, you are free.. but for human hair extension.. you know, it shocks me! The women who give their hair in India get nothing.. it is the men who trade in it mainly in suitcases!! It all gets so terrible for me.. But you may continue wearing your huge hair.. the world haas made us think that is the only way of being. And, yes, I remember my caucasian friend in California also wearing a blonde extension.. it is not a black and white thing but Chris Rock who does the investigation in the movie does not go there! But the lesson is there.. let's at least save kids from havoc on their heads with chemicals.. and let us get them from the beginning to affirm, " MY hair is afro, kinky or whateva.. even locked but i love it!" In Kenya, it is not allowed for kids to go to school in dreadlocks.. but some escape with chemical treatment!!

For so many, we thank Ocampo and ICC for ....

... moving fast to deal with the Kenyan situation because it was shameful that Kenya fell this low through the work of those elected to look after the people. I hope the expressed desire of the ICC to open up the Kenyan case means real thorough work that leaves our nation healed at least by the attempt to give justice!

I was shocked that we fell this low.. and have never recovered from this and like most Kenyans, the post poll violence of 2007 became an ugly reminder of the fact that we have not yet build a nation even if we got independence in 1963!

May this woman who is standing outside a church in which many were burnt alive be heard above! May her cries be a shrill reminder of shame to those "leaders" and local people who did not attend the memorial ceremony including government ministers and MPs a year later at the church because they said they were not invited! They should have been there to hold a burnt nation in their hands as one! And many of us Kenyans can say along with this woman and others who were killed that we too did not invite these calamities to our land!