Stories and Book Talk

Author: Elly in Nairobi

  • Poetry Week – Namatsi Lukoye’s I’m Not Yours to Fix

    Today, this blog features, Namatsi Lukoye.  She’s a poet, writer and performs Spoken Word.

    Here’s Namatsi Lukoye  by Namatsi:

    I would love to call myself a fashion designer but I guess that name is reserved for people who know exactly what they are doing in that profession like Angie (my mum). I am an all round artist; I do basically anything I put my hands and heads on. That said I am an extremely talented copy cat… I can make anything that has a fabric and a stitch on it if I put my mind on it. I am also a spoken word poet and a writer, which gives me a split personality because when it comes to poetry… I write deep and recite with emotion. As for writing, I have had the honor of interviewing some of the highest achievers in my country.

    I’m Not Yours to Fix by Namatsi Lukoye

    There is nothing as terrible as living in a circle,
    when all you want is a dark corner that you can comfortably hide and cry in
    How do you live as an open book when every reader is a critic
    Watching your every step and even when they don’t say it
    You feel it…. the judgement in the eyes as they scroll one word to the next

    (a feel of what’s coming in :- All that I am – Namatsi)

    I am trapped in this circle;
    What i really want well the heavens lied about it
    So I am lost somewhere in paradise… confused
    It is not as it was told…
    The rivers are not clear… pure blood
    The gates are not golden… iced tears
    There is no music… Choir master rebelled!
    And I miss everything,
    Everything I once hated
    Everything that I once believed in…
    Even the silence between us
    I miss the stench of our rotting corpses…
    Even the worms crawling on top of us… I miss it all

    I wish I should have listened to the voice inside… I am not yours to fix
    I am not a mix that you need to solve with your tricks
    Learn this… I am not yours to study or to feel sorry for
    My life is not your politics, don’t pray for me or hope that I will change
    Words floating to the sky don’t have a thing on me! That’s not my cage
    I am not yours to worry about… so let me die in this drought
    Tasteless sorry french kisses you give, what do you know about being a friend!
    I stopped trying and learning how to pretend… am not good at it
    Let’s be enemies, let’s kill these dark melodies
    DIE! DIE! DIE!
    I am not here for you to try correct
    Let my pride be the end of me… because I will not listen to you
    Let me live as I please, love as I want, and if the result is to burn… then let me burn
    BURN! BURN! BURN!
    Till the sky cries and the earth sings
    Let me go to a road of finding me alone
    I miss me every aspect of me! Even the drama queen who held a knife!

    Mimi siwako wa kukosoa, kufunza wala kujaribu kuunda (**I’m not yours to correct, to teach, or to fix)
    Usikose usingizi shida zangu ukijifanya watatua (**Don’t lose sleep pretending you’re fixing my problems)
    I know that I am fragile but aren’t we all… so when I break into pieces
    Stay away, I have elements of the devil himself I could cut you… or worse I could kill you!
    And anyway, how you gonna help me with a knife in your hand
    A log in your eye? And the rejoicing smile you do when you turn away!
    I see you… beneath all your eeeish… I feel you
    I am not yours to fix… I am not yours to fix! And never yours to save
    Poetry has always done that, don’t try compete

    This voice you killed… I want it back
    I am tired of this space… of the light
    I am not a defined script, I make my own way in this journey heading to death,
    Death, that kind cruel friend who smiles at us all and takes us to rest,
    Why is she misunderstood?
    I am not afraid of her…
    Anyway, till trees grow downwards and waterfalls make love to the sky
    In times of misty doubt and clear joys,
    I am on a trip to find me… and I don’t need your sympathy

    **ellyinnairobi: translation

    Poetry Week Thoughts:

    There is nothing as terrible as living in a circle,
    when all you want is a dark corner that you can comfortably hide and cry in
    How do you live as an open book when every reader is a critic
    Watching your every step and even when they don’t say it
    You feel it…. the judgement in the eyes as they scroll one word to the next

    There have been days when I feel like this, facing the world, your family and friends, your community, everyone has something to say about how you’re living, what you’re doing, what you say, and it can get heavy, burden you until you feel the best thing to do is runaway.  When I read this poem, it really spoke to me and the way Namatsi ends it, “>…I’m on a trip to find me...” that right there is the beauty of life and the goal we must all work toward if we’re to find happiness.

  • Poetry Week – Nakitare’s You Break My Heart

    Poetry Week continues….

    Today, we take a look at a poem by a man named Sammy Nakitare. I visited his blog through a page on Facebook, and found this lovely post.  Visit Sammy’s Blog and show him some love.  He has great talent with words.

     

     

    You Break My Heart by Sammy Nakitare

    You can make the clouds rain

    You can send the sun away

    Ain’t there a thing big for you?

    At least you claim to know it all

    Or so you say you’re my other god

    You speak tiny truths snake

    And I blindly believe all you say

    You break my heart,

    With all your lying.

     

    You break my heart,

    You leave me frying

    You literally placed my life in a pan

    Hot on fire toasting at your mercy

    And you care not about my cries

    I burn in rags as you wow in wealth

    Cursed by the vote I cast

    You break my heart

    you leave me crying

     

    Dreams so big than the skies can screen

    Tears well my eyes thinking about’em

    You break my heart

    With all your dreaming

    Yet I can never be where you are

    Seems designed just for few

    Who never cease to speak of trying

    You break my heart

    With all your trying

     

    You piled power to make souls fight

    Got great tide pulled to your side

    You hypnotize the masses

    With wise witty slogans

    Wicked mathematician

    You confuse numbers to your favor

    Mister politician!

    You break my heart

    You leave me dying.

     

    Poetry Week Thoughts:

    These are powerful words put together to portray the status quo between the citizen and their leader.  Words given by the politicians are powerful and crashing at the same time. They can force the end, bring about change, or just plain unrest among the citizens who put all their faith in the politician.  It is a dangerous cycle, and I love this poem for putting it in such a profound manner.

  • Poetry Week – Ask My Shoes by H-ART the Band

    H_ART the Band
     H_ART the Band
     
    This charming group kicks off our Poetry Week with a song called Uliza Kiatu(Ask My Shoes).  The best part of this song is the play on words, it makes you smile, chuckle and laugh, so effortlessly, that by the end of the song, you want to hit repeat and listen again.
     
    The lyrics are a lament by a man of the struggles he faces dating a young woman who expects the best, and so much more than he can afford.  Yet he does those impossible things, while he faces challenges unknown to her. Love makes you do crazy things. Here’s a look at the lyrics from H_ART the Band’s Uliza Kiatu. Courtesy of Kasablanker
     
    Verse 1
     
    Why is love, makes you do crazy things
    Ask my shoes, uliza kiatu
    And what I went through to buy you those rings
    Ask my shoes, uliza kiatu
    Masaibu ninayoyapitia, kukupeleka dinner
    Uliza kiatu
    Na gatheri ninavyokatafuna, eti ndo ukule burger, pizza
    Uliza kiatu
     
    Chorus
    Ask my shoes, ask my shoes
    Uliza kiatu, uliza kiatu
     
    Verse 2
    Nimekopa nikupe, kumbe wewe ndo kupe
    Nang’ang’ana ndo tule, juhudi zangu bure
    I heard that love should always make us strong
    But how I feel like think that they were wrong
    Ask me why
     
    Bridge
    Nasema taxi nilipe, rent mi nikupe
    Nywele zisongwe Mombasa si twende
    Mapenzi nikupe, mpaka we uridhike
     
    Nasema taxi nilipe, rent mi nikupe
    Nywele zisongwe Mombasa si twende
    Mapenzi nikupe, mpaka we uridhike
     
    Chorus
    Ask my shoes, ask my shoes
    Uliza kiatu, uliza kiatu
     
    Ask my shoes, ask my shoes
    Uliza kiatu, uliza kiatu
     
    Spoken Word
    Kitendawili, kitendawili [tega]
    Nilimwonyesha mapenzi akanionyesha mfuko
    Alisema doh ya salon ni thao tu
    Na kwa mfuko nilikuwa na mbao juu
    Alisema anaenda PE
    Akirudi nilimpata akimeza P2
    [alikutega]
    So niko stuck katikati
    Kama stick ya mshikaki
    Nampenda huyu mshikaji
    But kiatu tu ndo inajua stori
    Yaani vile, mi humchocha nimemflash bahati mbaya
    Ju niko na deni ya bob, Collymore
    Yaani vile mi hukanyanga matope kabla nifike kwa lami
    Na ile stress mi hupitia kabla nimbongeshe kilami
    Yaani vile, mi humpandisha taxi
    Then naenda kudandia gari ya moshi
    Yaani vile, mi humhustlia hadi kiatu yangu inaanza kutoa moshi
    Yaani vile, mi humuita baby
    Juu najua nikimuita Njeri
    Hiyo r inaeza geuka l
    Na hiyo moment naeza kuwa nimeispoil
    Yaani vile, nimetarmac hadi
    Timber yangu inaeza geuka Sunder
    Yaani vile, yaani ka ni kukokwa nimekopa
    Yaani ka nikuokoka nimeokoka
    Yaani ka ni tisa nimepigana tu
    Ndo niivishe hiyo figure yake namba nane
    Na hata usiku nipate umenichorea nane
    Toa moja, saba
    Vile nimesag mpaka toja
    Nikamdanganya eti mi naishingi Umoja
    Nikwamwonyesha mpaka mi si mwana vi-oja
    Eti nawork mahakamani kusolve vitimbi za dunia
    Bila shaka mashtaka
    Yaani vile hata vile dunia ikasimama tutasimama pamoja
    Yaani vile, ka mapenzi ni nywele basi we ulinisetia nati
    Yaani vile ka mapenzi ni kikohozi
    Basi bila shaka niko na TB, niko na fever juu ananiumiza
    Yaani vile, ka mapenzi ni mistari
    Basi namwandikia sentensi
    Matenzi mpenzi nakuenzi vishenzi
    Niko chizi, crazy
    Mwizi, wa mapenzi
    Nifunge, am guilty
    Here to testify
     
    Chorus
    Ask my shoes, ask my shoes
    Uliza kiatu, uliza kiatu
     
    Ask my shoes, ask my shoes
    Uliza kiatu, uliza kiatu
     
    Listen to this song here: Youtube Link –  Uliza Kiatu/ (Ask My Shoes) 
     
     
    I discovered H_ART the Band through an appearance on a local television station.  They were doing a live performance and it was hard not to stop and listen.  They’re energetic, and engaging.  I love guitars and the band plays very well, which is always a plus for me.  They’re going far, and I hope to hear more from them as we go.
     
     
    Follow them below to get news on their latest events:
    Twitter: @H_ARTTHEBAND
    Like their Facebook Page: Hart the Band
     
     

     

  • Poetry Week – Reflection

    Angelou_A

    Dr. Maya Angelou – An Inspiring Woman

    Last week, one of the greatest poets, Dr. Maya Angelou, passed on, and it had me reaching for her works.  Reading back on the many great words she’s shared with the world.  Cataloging lessons learned in her life and thought-provoking poems that make us pause.  She’s taught and inspired generations, changed perceptions, and inspired courage with words; she shared her experiences through her poems, giving courage to many. Below is one of her most famous poems:

    Still I Rise by Maya Angelou

    You may write me down in history
    With your bitter, twisted lies,
    You may trod me in the very dirt
    But still, like dust, I’ll rise.

    Does my sassiness upset you?
    Why are you beset with gloom?
    ‘Cause I walk like I’ve got oil wells
    Pumping in my living room.

    Just like moons and like suns,
    With the certainty of tides,
    Just like hopes springing high,
    Still I’ll rise.

    Did you want to see me broken?
    Bowed head and lowered eyes?
    Shoulders falling down like teardrops.
    Weakened by my soulful cries.

    Does my haughtiness offend you?
    Don’t you take it awful hard
    ‘Cause I laugh like I’ve got gold mines
    Diggin’ in my own back yard.

    You may shoot me with your words,
    You may cut me with your eyes,
    You may kill me with your hatefulness,
    But still, like air, I’ll rise.

    Does my sexiness upset you?
    Does it come as a surprise
    That I dance like I’ve got diamonds
    At the meeting of my thighs?

    Out of the huts of history’s shame
    I rise
    Up from a past that’s rooted in pain
    I rise
    I’m a black ocean, leaping and wide,
    Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
    Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
    I rise
    Into a daybreak that’s wondrously clear
    I rise
    Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
    I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
    I rise
    I rise
    I rise

    angelou2

    I love this poem because it is a powerful affirmation, no matter what or whom you meet.   Those things you or I are facing now, those terrible things or wonderful things, those difficult or easy people you meet, if you believe in yourself and stand strong, you’ll rise.  I thank Dr. Maya Angelou for sharing these powerful words with us.

    Poetry is one of the most inspiring forms of art there can be.  A few words, arranged in stanzas, can hold powerful messages that will inspire you and call up an emotion inside you that you didn’t even realize you had.  Poets often describe a situation, a feeling, or an experience so that you have no choice but to agree or disagree or find an urge to discover if that description fits that moment.

    On this note, this coming week, this blog of mine will feature some poems from a few of Kenya’s Poets.  Most of whom have become musicians, changing our small world with their courageous words.  I love music; a good song reaches the soul, so explore with me.

  • Drumbeats : Romance Novels set in East Africa

    I’ve read romance novels since I was old enough.  I used to steal my mom’s stash of weekly stories from Reader’s Digest, so old, that I don’t think they publish them anymore.  Then it was the high school romance books; from Sweet Valley High series, Mills & Boon, and Harlequin Romance, graduating to authors such as Nora Roberts, Linda Howard, Johanna Lindsay, Christine Feehan, and others. My bookshelf tells a story of a love for romance that grows with time.  So much so, that I have delved into writing myself, wanting to create heroes and heroines that will resonate with the people around me.

    Born in Nairobi, Kenya, it’s been tough to find any books set in my city, with characters living the life I’ve known, going through experiences in a setting I understand.  My city is full of culture: a culture that gives so much color to life,  I’ve always thought that romance stories written with characters in my region would be exciting to read.  Last year, I ran across a blog post/call for submissions by Storymoja.  It was a query for stories set in East Africa, romance stories meant to meet the same genre found in my favorite Mills & Boon, or a Harlequin Romance.  I was excited and thrilled, so much so, that I submitted my own story to them in late December. (Here’s my hope that I’ll get a response from them. ^_^) Lol.  My hope aside, Storymoja has released an exciting series of stories called Drumbeats.

    I have gotten the chance to read a few of them.  I have to say, I’m so privileged to share Romance stories written by East Africans for East Africans.  Here are some of the titles that are now available as E-books on Amazon.

    Best Laid Plans Book Cover

    Best Laid Plans

    by  Vaishnavi Ram Mohan

    Roshni thought she had her life in perfect control. Everything was as she’d planned it, including her engagement to long-time friend Shiv. But a series of unplanned encounters in the unpredictable Nairobi traffic with Nyagah changed everything. Nyagah was the opposite of everything Roshni thought she’d want in a man. So why did he make her heart race? Why did she look forward to their meetings more than anything? What was it about him that made her defy all her rules? And why was she toying with the idea of breaking off her engagement to the perfect-match, family-approved Indian man and hooking up with a Kenyan man whom she knew only from a few traffic jam meetings? This is an urban love story set in contemporary Nairobi.

    Available on Amazon, Get it Now!

    This story quickly became my favorite.  First, it’s set in Nairobi, second, a culture crash was in the offing, lots of stereotypes to get through for Roshni and Nyagah.  Roshni is so orderly and straight-laced, her relationship with Nyagah starts to a smashing start, I couldn’t stop reading it.

    HEAVEN ON EARTH

    By Hilda Gathanga

    Caroline was finally getting her life on the right track. She had a thriving tour business, great family and friends, and was happily single. In fact, men were the last thing on her agenda. Until handsome Andrew walked into her office, and the unthinkable happened: she fell in love with one of her clients! But can Caroline risk everything she has worked for and give into the charms of Andrew? Can she put her trust in his promises of heaven on earth? And does she dare entrust her heart to a man once again, especially one who has a very odd philosophy about dating and relationships?

    Available on Amazon Get it Now!

    This story is also set in Nairobi. I loved the progress of budding love, those first moments you’re so shy and unsure, to the end where decisions have to be made as the relationship strengthens and becomes something the heroine can’t live without.  Beautiful story.

    Stuck Together Book Covers

    STUCK TOGETHER

    By Vaishnavi Ram Mohan

    Alisha Oketch’s worst nightmares come true when circumstances force her to move in with Alexander Bonaparte Obanda. She’s fun-loving, wild, and carefree. Her dictatorial flatmate, Alexander Bonaparte is prim and proper, super-organized, and in Alisha’s opinion, super-annoying. Arguments and fights follow as their polar opposite personalities collide. Yet, somewhere amidst the squabbling, a romance begins to blossom between the two. So, can two strangers stuck together really find love with each other? This is a humorous romance set in a Nairobi college campus.

    Available on Amazon Get it Now

    Cranes Crest at Sunset book cover

    CRANES CREST AT SUNSET

    By Dilman Dila

    Kabita, a beautiful Nepali doctor escapes from an arranged marriage to serve in a remote village in rural Uganda. In this village, she hopes to put to rest the haunting memories of her forbidden love and shattered past. But the peace she so desperately seeks seems elusive now, as she finds herself falling in love with Steven, a handsome African herdsman. Is she foolish to reject the advances of a fellow doctor for an idle herdsman painter? And is Steven really what he seems to be? Should she follow her heart or mind? Will Kabita finally find joy or will her dreams be shattered again? This is an intense love story set in rural Uganda.

    Available on Amazon, Get it Now!

    I love the poetry in this story, from the first line to the end, there is love for the village in the author’s words, so much so, that it shines in Kabita’s every description.  It was easy to get lost in this one too.

    So, the books above are a small taste of Nairobi, and a setting in rural Uganda, written with such poetic words, it was easy to fall in love.  I can’t wait to see what other titles Drumbeats produce.  Great Job, Storymoja Editors!

    What are you reading?

  • Bitter Sweet

    Harsh realities find us when we’re least expecting them. A few minutes ago, her world had been perfect. Sitting in her cousin’s living room, cheering on her country in the London Olympics marathon, she was visiting to see her cousin’s new baby. The plan was to have lunch, play with the baby a little, and then go on her merry way back home.

    An hour into the marathon, casual conversation flowing lazily, like a breeze on a very sunny day, a new visitor comes in. He takes a sit, introductions are brief, and he’s part of the family in some way. Suddenly the conversation sails away from the lazy flow, storming off to the ugly side of the world. Her country is apparently at war, helping a bordering country try to fix its problems and the man seated across her is neck deep in it. Literally, he sleeps in a hole in a trench at the front line. He tells tales of watching the stars, marveling at their beauty, the next minute; he is defending his country’s freedom with rounds of fire toward an enemy who is as determined to kill him.

    Hundreds of enemies coming at him, more fighting, sleepless nights, bombs bursting over his head, more trenches and holes. Suddenly, watching the marathon seems so useless, such an insipid exercise compared to what he sacrifices on a daily basis. Harsh realities hit home in such strange moments. As he leaves an hour later, she murmurs,

    “Stay safe,” her tone silent, soft, full of regret. But, his eyes are jaded, he has seen too much to feel the soft, his soul is hardened by the brutal human nature he meets daily fighting for our comfortable lives.  Our sweet freedoms that we enjoy without much thought for his discomfort.

    Her country almost wins the Olympic Marathon, and although they come in second, she’s grateful for one little thing she can smile about. That and the happy baby who has finally emerged after hours of sleep, dripping with innocence, not knowing that at the borders ravaged souls defend the country they live in. She holds the baby close and prays that the baby never knows, never has to deal with the harsh realities of life.

  • A Sardine in a Delicatessen Store

    She walked briskly along her street, headed home.  She was late; it was almost nine o’clock, the night pitch black, the street lights barely lighting her way.  Hands folded tight against her chest, she bit her lip and trudged along the uneven path leading to the farmhouse.  She cursed bureaucracies for the umpteenth time today.  Trying to find a job in this ridiculous economy was akin to a guerrilla war.  Men in suits ambush your character when you least expect it. She closed her eyes in frustration.  She wished her old job would pay her severance, two more days and she was going to be poorer than a church mouse.  She’d be happy to have even ten shillings for fare to get to the following interview.

    There was no way to tell if she’d gotten the job she’d interviewed for this afternoon.  The suits in charge had played hardball, warning the group of interviewees that some of them wouldn’t get picked.  A painful pang swept through her, and she prayed for luck.  She prayed…her walk slowed, and she wondered if her god was listening.  Berating herself for wavering, she continued her brisk walk and earnestly prayed.  Just maybe…she would get the job.

    She finally got to the farm’s green gate.  It was Monday, her day to make dinner.  She locked the gate with a sigh.  She’d promised she’d be home earlier.  Obviously, that hadn’t gone so well.  Her brothers would be giving her a lecture.  She slowed down on the short walk to the house.  She stopped at the front door and took a deep, bracing breath, preparing herself for a lecture.  She opened the door, removed her shoes, and gasped when she glanced up.

    A cheerful atmosphere filled the living room, and beyond that, the dining table was laden with delicious food.  The scent of roast meat filled her nostrils, and her stomach rumbled in appreciation.  Her older brother rushed to her and hugged her in greeting.  He smiled wide, picking her up and twirling her around.  He told her he was happy she was home and led her to the living room. 

    Her younger brother pressed a fresh cup of coffee into her hand.  The lecture she feared never came.  When she sat at the dinner table to eat with her brothers, her father brought her an envelope from her previous employer.  She opened it with a frown, having given up on receiving her severance pay from that company.  She was surprised as a sardine that went to sleep in the ocean and woke up in a delicatessen store when she pulled out a check.  Her severance money, she smiled in elation.  Maybe her God was listening, after all, she decided.  There was hope.