storymoja Hay fest 2012, sawa sawa!

It was an unrealistically beautiful experience. A packed programme with so many fantastic options from Lemn Sissay the larger than life performance poet, Dinaw Mengestu, winner of 2007 Guardian first book award for his novel,Children of the Revolution to Sitawa Namwilie,author of Cut off my Tongue. The 13th to 17th September 2012 will hardly be forgotten.

The poets at Lemn Sissay's class, storymoja hay fest 2012 The winners of the 2012 BN Poetry Award Susan Piwang and Paula Biraaro, attended the festival as part of their prize and surprisingly blew me away when they recited their winning pieces during the poetry gala on the morning of the 14th at the storymoja amphitheater, Nairobi Museum. By the way, that museum puts ours to shaaaaaaaaaame. There you can carry out parallel workshops, play music and charge an entry fee without the fear of the artefacts crumbling under too much wind. During the effervescent Lemn Sissay’s poetry masterclass, he said one important thing, among many. The stage should be the last place a poem should be. Every poet will remember that. And then Dinaw, sigh, what a writer! I told him that he is the type of writer that can easily write with a female protagonist without the readers figuring it out. His first novel Children of the Revolution started his career and from the deliberate and careful way he selects his words before speaking, it is no doubt his career will make him leap bounds. Oh, and he hates these over used words like She smiled. He was like, what kind of smile? It should be specific to the character. I chaired the discussion of his book and fund out, he also believes in writing for social change! Yeiiii!

Bev and Dinaw Mengestu after his writing masterclass The second night we were hosted at a grand dinner at Muthoni Garland’s house (read palace). You have never seen anything like it. The founder of the storymoja Hay Fest cut no corners when it came to building her home sweeter than home. My eyes got drunk with all the magnificence. It was a cosy dinner where I got to talk to Giles Foden who by the way doesn’t talk much, no sir! Curt answers, well, at least I got a photo.

Bev and Giles Foden, author of Last King of Scotland (Muthoni's house in background) Lots of artists, Precious Williams, Lola Shoneyin, Akil,Eurig the Welsh poet, Lauri Kubuitsile, a prolific and most down to earth writer from the continent I have met. Then the unmistakable John Sibi Okumu of Zain Africa Challenge who talks on and on and on, I guess to match his stature. He is an interesting person to listen to. It was gwangamanga mwah mwah mwah. Can there be a Hay Festival in Uganda? You tell me. Susan, Paula and I were the only Ugandans from Uganda , so make sure you're there next time, you will love it-I did!

Some of us at the British Council farewell reception

Betty Kituyi gives birth to yet another poem

I want you to know how happy I am with my little poem, Falling, having taken the third position in this years’ Beverley Nambozo Poetry Award! The prizes were great thanks to our sponsors!

Birds at Queen Elizabeth National Park, photo by BNN, 2009 The evening of 29th June 2012 when I read my poem to the guests at the poetry evening, I felt like giving birth to it. The message in the poem coincided with the pain of loss of my village mates in Bududa village who had been buried by landslides. At that moment, my poem carried hope for me and for my people and that meant so much to me. My people needed to hear those words ‘ I am learning from the weeping clouds that falling isn’t dying.’ Maybe there is meaning to this death in my village. May be death is not an end. I keep thinking. Since the award, my poem has been shown off to friends, family and organisations and it feels like sharing a new precious baby to the world: My friend Theresa Wolfwood from Canada says it is a powerful poem with no word out of place. Sumeet Glover a UK based poet and a friend to Terry, wrote a lovely commentary about the poem and wants to feature it on his website: www. global poetry.com These are his words: “ yes, I do remember this poem, and it was very much on my mind to reply to that email of yours from few weeks back. I was yet to spend time reflecting on this poem, but on the top of my head, I believe it's a beautiful poem. It is a celebration of feminism and it talks of the freedom every woman deserves, especially in Eastern and African societies where gender roles are strictly restricted. After reading this poem a few times, I thought "only if every woman had this sense of inner and outer freedom to just be whoever she wants to be". So yes, it contains a very powerful message for male-dominated and bigoted societies. On the other hand, it contains a very feminine and engaging sense of hope for other women to let themselves out, to breathe free, to let the rain fall, to get drenched in its waters and to walk home. The essence of this poem is a fearless 'awakening' to a woman's freedom. If there was a choice, this poem could also be renamed "fearless". Only if every woman had this freedom! That is my final thought, especially after I recently heard of my cousin sister in Delhi. Her husband has now turned slightly "kind" to give her "permission" to see her mom once in 4 months. Anyway, she has a choice she doesn't want to take. So "Falling" has an important place to let the fears and terror of women to fall away. I went to the Southbank Centre on Friday last week, and attended "African Utopia" debate. There was a panel of journalists of African descent debating how the West is so ignorant about Africa and how only about 20 or 30% of African population has access to Internet. Therefore, I wanted to ask you, if Betty may be interested in having this poem published on Global Poetry site? (the copyrights remain with the authors, GP doesn't hold any copyrights to others' works) I believe this will be a very important voice for African women, and women in general.’ FEMRITE used falling as a table tent that was marketed in restaurants, hotels, bars schools to promote the literally week of activities from 9th – 13th July 2012. Beatrice Lamwaka and Barbra Oketta used it with students of Jane Francis Secondary school in Masaka during their school visit where it was discussed and recited on 28th July 2012. My friend Cathy, a professor of literature at a university in Kuwait has promised to share the poem with her students! For a small poem that began at a kitchen sink to travel these vast distances and find use and meaning to different people in a small period of time, is quite a profound experience for me! It is like a mother watching her child grow and accomplish his dreams. I am extremely delighted and encouraged by the BN Award. Thank you so much for giving a forum for the inner voices of Ugandan women to be heard! Congratulations Beverley for this great effort!

The Winner is Susan Piwang with The Music Man

The Music Man An old man sits by the street corner Cradling an old guitar in his weathered hands. His calloused fingertips skim over the strings His leathery palms cup its wooden base. Between the two, man and instrument I cannot tell which one is older. His eyes are closed in reflection His guitar is silent in anticipation Meanwhile, the world waits in silence Birds soar in the sky The leaves whisper in the wind And the people keep rushing by. And then he plays. His fingers race over the frets The guitar vibrates rebelliously He hums It thrums Between the two I cannot tell Which one is in charge of the music. The music! It stops the pulsation of my heart It burns the deepest corners of my soul It breaks the barriers within And shatters the silence without Earth is trapped in a sphere of symphonies Life is paused in a glass of rhapsody All is well within that moment of eternity While he plays. His voice is deep and rich His tune is strong and thick His heart is bleeding through the notes His life is breaking amidst the tones And I am pulled along Breaking and bleeding with his song. And then he stops. The spell is undone. All is as it was. Nothing outside the ordinary And once again he is an old man Seated by the corner Cradling a guitar (Which one, I wonder, is older?) His eyes are closed in reflection His guitar is silent in satisfaction The birds still soar in the sky Silence hushes the rustling leaves And the people keep rushing by. THE MUSIC MAN! WINNER OF THE FOURTH BN POETRY AWARD, 2012. This poem, The Music Man, was written by Susan Piwang and emerged first in the fourth BN Poetry Award. The judges agreed that it was strong, beautiful, transporting readers to a new place. Susan Piwang wins 500 USD, a fully paid trip to the Literary Storymoja Hay Festival in Nairobi in September 2012, an autographed copy of Half of a Yellow Sun, by award-winning author, Chimamanda Adichie and an autographed copy of Eliyeena’s Sorbonne-a novel infused with poetry, by Hannah Saint C.A Nanyanzi. The award was proudly sponsored by Stichting Doen. June 29 2012 www.bnpoetryaward.co.ug