Showing posts with label Caroline Mutoko. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Caroline Mutoko. Show all posts
Genge’s got the gangsta edge, but it doesn’t question the system
Published in The East African, Sunday, January 3, 2010
When I first arrived in Kenya, in late 2008 from South Africa, I didn’t know my “bongo” from my “mambo.” I thought, “They are both styles of music”... Sindio? But I learned the difference quickly, through my love of music and radio. So there I was, endlessly fine-tuning the wireless to the myriad stations that congest Nairobi’s airwaves.
I started listening to Classic FM and Kiss FM, morning and evening, and Capital late at night. I got good politics from Caroline Mutoko and a laugh or two from Larry Asego both of Kiss FM. I heard some fantastic late night mixes on Capital and I thought that Nairobi’s dedicated reggae station, Metro FM was way cool too.
The first “bongo flava” track I ever heard was Ali Kiba’s “Macmugo.” I loved the simple beauty of the song, and the poetic sound of the Tanzanian Kiswahili. The fact that I could discern “South Africa” within the lyrics increased my love for the song too … I downloaded the ringtone.
Since then, I have picked up Kiswahili, kidogo, and have enjoyed Bongo flava coming at me from everywhere: In restaurants, bars and clubs, blaring from matatus and kicking from kiosks. It is light, joyous music. It is sweet, and speaks of love and romance; yearnings of the heart. It is both witness and testimony to the fabled “good heart” of the East African people.
Until now, East Africa has enjoyed the sole franchise on Bongo. The songs have been done exclusively in Kiswahili and the productions have been strictly East African. But there are some new kids on the Bongo block...
Nigerian musicians are suddenly doing Bongo. And they’re doing it better than the Tanzanians. Their sound is much cooler than Tanzanian and Kenyan Bongo. They have raised the bar. Their videos have moved away from the ghetto and into the bling — quite refreshing after the endless singing scenes set in Dar es Salaam. This is something East Africa needs to watch out for in both senses, and with the Nigerians doing Bongo in English, they are inviting all of Anglophone West Africa to “buy Bongo.” That is one large market.
So, East African musicians probably need to listen to Bongo flava from Nigeria if they want to see bigger sales in future (and dealing with piracy will probably help a bit too).
But Bongo tunes from Tanzania are in a class of their own. There’s something soft in Tanzanian Kiswahili that the Kenyan version and Kenyan English fail to match. But then, there is something strong in Nairobi Sheng (slang) that the Tanzanian tongue and English fail to match as well...
If Bongo speaks to the heart, Kenya’s Genge music speaks the mind of a disenchanted youth ...
The sound of Genge, sung in Nairobi Sheng, is superbly suited to this hard, unforgiving city. Bongo is soft. Genge is hard. Very hard. And Genge is the genre with which Nairobi may yet make its mark on African music. Genge is Nairobi, just like gangsta came from East Central LA. These are not coincidences. They are the realities from which “ghetto” creativity stems.
So I have recently taken to a diet of Ghetto Radio and late-night Capital. And I have heard some startling music, made right here in Nairobi. I understand Kiswahili enough now to discern the lyrics, but it’s the sheer power of the Genge rhyming slang — whether you understand it or not — that is so potent.
Genge is clever. It is witty. It is irreverent. One song rhymes the virtues of Nairobi’s take-away chickens (read “chicks”). Another, the hazards of Nairobi streets. The genre is edgy, and is looking hard at local life. I mean, Jua Cali is HOT. The first time I heard him, I stopped in my tracks. All I could say was:
“Mambo mbaaaaaaaaaya!” (Slang for ‘This is cool’).
But so far, even with Genge’s realism, not much of it seriously questions the social order. So here’s a trend I would like to see: Genge lyrics that address real issues facing Kenya. There will be some important listening next year if Genge stops skirting and deals overtly with corruption, poverty, unemployment and a despised government. Surely, this is some of what “urban” genres should be about. And even if radio avoids any conflagration, we know that Nairobi’s music pirates will disseminate the message, haraka sana!
Coming from a background of “resistance music” in South Africa, I know what a powerful force for change music can be. Nothing can resist a force whose time has come. And Kenya’s time has come. One way of making the necessary changes known can be through Genge.
The Three “Esses” in Swahili
The response to my “Swahili Primer” in the last blog was absolutely great. All the closet Zulu fans and Xhosa queens came out of the woodwork at the same time. I immediately got questions about Xhosa terms (uQabandini, said with a full-palate click to the front of the mouth and meaning someone who hasn't been to 'school' but still holds strong opinions), and reams of comparisons between Swahili and the dominant local language in South Africa .
Hey guys, I didn’t realize how tsotsi-literate you all are! The only negative response I got was from The Imp, here in Nairobi , who said my blog should carry a disclaimer to the effect that I either accept NO responsibility for my butchering of the Swahili language, or that I accept FULL responsibility for same. Too late now I guess but hey, I’m trying my best.
But what I have realized is that I wrote the Swahili primer at the very end of a writing day and there was a whole lot I left out – some of the most important stuff actually. So here is a little more complete version of Swahili 101 - but is actually only about just three words in Swahili … but three that are absolutely indispensable to know!
First things first, though: The DISCLAIMER … I hereby accept no responsibility whatsoever for any inaccuracies found in this text. This, because I have not just ONE, but TWO Swahili speakers who have checked my opinions and have edited my obvious errors. Having said this, let me blaze away and make a complete Swahili fool of myself, using, as I have, my sub-editors’ remarks as entirely discretionary input …
Of course, I do also have a marginal excuse in noting that Swahili is actually a very ‘hybrid’ language and is infused with Arabic, Portuguese, Persian, a little German, and quite a bit of English. Swahili is a lot less ‘pure’ than the Bantu languages of Zulu and Xhosa found in Mzansi, in the sense that there was little to infuse the Bantu with down there. Of course, the Zulu found on the streets of Jozi is an entirely different matter (which is why I referred to the tsotsi-literacy of some of you!).
Blundering Introduction to the First Edition:
Swahili is one of the most widely spoken of all African languages (probably followed by Zulu and its variants) and is probably accessible to near 100 million people in the East Africa region alone. However, it is the mother tongue to less than 20 million people. It is the regional lingua franca with roots that can be traced back to the first millennium AD! It is found in use throughout East Africa (Kenya, Tanzania, Uganda, Rwanda and Burundi) but is also spoken to the north - in parts of Somalia and Ethiopia - and as far south as northern Mozambique and Zambia.
The true Swahili people – mSwahilini – are people from “Coast” (province) - as opposed to the coast. The word ‘Swahili’ itself actually derives from the Arabic word for ‘coast’ and the language was originally the main means of communication between the coastal peoples – since the 700's - starting with a few boats landing at Zanzibar.
Today still, the most pure Swahili is considered to be found among the Zanzibaris, thereafter within greater Tanzania, followed quite a way later by the Swahili found in Kenya - with Nairobi Swahili considered to be ‘Sheng’ (Swahili slang) rather than true kiSwahili. I guess Nairobi Swahili is somewhat akin to Jozi isiZulu (hardly the stuff of high literary lexicons and dictionary discourse)! If truth be told (popular Nairobi expression), a journalist can run into trouble with his Tanzanian editor for an over-reliance on Nairobi Swahili!
Interestingly, the Swahili alphabet – formalized in the 1930’s – includes all the letters of the English alphabet except for ‘Q’ and ‘X’ – funnily enough, exactly those letters that are found so commonly in the Xhosa alphabet! Excuse the cultural stereotype, but it seems that the fabled Xhosa penchant for petty pilfering might have played a part here: seeing that mSwahilini were not using the ‘Q’ and the ‘X’ the Xhosa people thought they might look after the letters and place them in safekeeping for the Swahili!
The First ‘S’:
The word “sasa” (transliteration: saa-saa), in true Swahili, means ‘now’, as in “kuja hapa sasa!”, or “come here now!”. But in Nairobi sheng it denotes so much more. The first alternate (short) meaning is closest, I suppose, to the South African use of "Howzit?” and it might well be used when answering a phone call …
The phone rings. You ‘pick it’ (Kenyan for ‘answer it’) and say:
“Sasa?”
The response you are most likely to get is:
“Poa sana ” (transliteration: a ‘breathy’, ‘percussive’ poh-ah saa-na meaning "very good")
And the self-same question follows, again:
“Sasa?”
To which you'll get a:
"Poa-poa sana" if your buddy is really feeling good today.
Another, slightly more correct use of "sasa" is to say "now ... " but in a more 'open' sense.
It's used like:
"Now ... as I was saying"
As a means of re-opening a subject - perhaps a sensitive one - it is spoken softly and has a gentleness and un-intrusive subtlety that is very charming.
The Second “S”:
“Sema” (sair-mah) in proper Swahili means to 'speak' or to 'say something', yet it is used in a very similar way to “Sasa?” It is a more informal greeting than “Mambo?” and it means “What do you have to say?”, or “What’s up?”
Again, as with “Sasa?”, it essentially boils down to “How are you?” and again, the usual “Poa sana ” - or maybe a more moderate "nzuri sana" - is likely to follow.
“Sema?” has to be distinguished from “(Una) Sema nini?” meaning “You say what?”, which is a more direct question relating to what was just said, or to someone’s opinion of something.
My best was when I asked one of my researchers “Sema nini?”, to which she replied:
“Hakuna story” (“There is no story”).
These days I borrow her phrase when it's appropriate - and it seldom fails to raise a laugh.
By way of a small aside, you have to be careful when using variations of the "Hakuna" story ...
Hakuna matata ("no wurries")
Hakuna matatu ("there is no taxi")
Hakuna matako ("there is no ass")
Hakuna Mutoko ("Kiss FM's Caroline Mutoko is not on air")
Just a little laugh. But now for the ‘clincher’ of the ‘esses’:
The Third “S”:
The third “S” – “Sawa” (saa-waa) - is probably the most commonly used word in the Swahili language. Quite simply, it means “Ok”.
Any conversation will be infused with numerous uses of “sawa” along the way and if an arrangement has been made, the conversation will end with “sawa?” (“Ok?”), followed by the affirmative “sawa-sawa!” (“Ok-Ok!”).
In fact, it often closes a conversation or initiates departure, whether or not there has been any intervening arrangement. It is often just a warm, informal affirmation between friends and also suffices for the more formal “Kwa heri” (“good-bye”), which is seldom used.
The term, and its affirmative reply, are accompanied by many smiles and nods!
As a last rejoinder, I have to mention a rather risqué Bongo-Flava tune that made Tanzainia's Professor Jay famous in East Africa. Sung in Swahili obviously, it does the rounds in the clubs but is heard less often on radio, for reasons you’ll get …
It has a chorus consisting of two very short lines:
“HAPO vipi?” (“How is it THERE?”)
“HAPO sawa!” (“THERE is COOL/OK!”)
The sound of everyone singing it booms above the sound system (with “Sawa” being drawn out and sung as “Saaaaaawaaaaaaaaa!”).
The meaning is clear when the last line is accompanied by vigorous butt-wiggling and coy giggling on the part of the gals. Need I say more?
I have said it before and I shall go forth effusively again: The WAY the language is spoken, its syblent sounds, and the people that speak it, are all beautiful. Sheng commands my respect as a language that is highly dynamic, widely-used and highly descriptive and I’ll end this piece talking about a truly magnificent use of sheng on the streets:
The term “Mambo mbaye” is used in two completely opposite senses, depending entirely on the WAY it is said. Literally, the term means “Bad news”, but when applied to subjects like the quality of music, aesthetics (human or otherwise), or perhaps to the quality of THC, it takes on the same meaning as the term “wicked!” did in the UK some years back.
It takes this meaning only when the emphasis is placed on the second word, “mbaye” (“bad”), to which the affirmative reply might be “mbaye sana”, again with the emphasis on the second word.
What you're saying here is actually, "this is really good shit!"
When the emphasis is placed equally on the two words, it is to be understood more literally, as in “BAD NEWS”. Again, the reply could be “mbaye sana” but both the words will be spoken in a ‘level’ way, agreeing fully (kabisa) with the observation’s originator. A third, even greater agreement will, in fact, be had by the third-and-final inclusion of the agreement, “Kabisa!” ("Fully!"), in the comments.
And here, of course, the reference might be to a female predator trawling for customers at a downtown club. And, in this case, there will REALLY be NO joke contained in the reference at all!
More on this subject later …
Amani na mapenzi.
B-)
Hey guys, I didn’t realize how tsotsi-literate you all are! The only negative response I got was from The Imp, here in Nairobi , who said my blog should carry a disclaimer to the effect that I either accept NO responsibility for my butchering of the Swahili language, or that I accept FULL responsibility for same. Too late now I guess but hey, I’m trying my best.
But what I have realized is that I wrote the Swahili primer at the very end of a writing day and there was a whole lot I left out – some of the most important stuff actually. So here is a little more complete version of Swahili 101 - but is actually only about just three words in Swahili … but three that are absolutely indispensable to know!
First things first, though: The DISCLAIMER … I hereby accept no responsibility whatsoever for any inaccuracies found in this text. This, because I have not just ONE, but TWO Swahili speakers who have checked my opinions and have edited my obvious errors. Having said this, let me blaze away and make a complete Swahili fool of myself, using, as I have, my sub-editors’ remarks as entirely discretionary input …
Of course, I do also have a marginal excuse in noting that Swahili is actually a very ‘hybrid’ language and is infused with Arabic, Portuguese, Persian, a little German, and quite a bit of English. Swahili is a lot less ‘pure’ than the Bantu languages of Zulu and Xhosa found in Mzansi, in the sense that there was little to infuse the Bantu with down there. Of course, the Zulu found on the streets of Jozi is an entirely different matter (which is why I referred to the tsotsi-literacy of some of you!).
Blundering Introduction to the First Edition:
Swahili is one of the most widely spoken of all African languages (probably followed by Zulu and its variants) and is probably accessible to near 100 million people in the East Africa region alone. However, it is the mother tongue to less than 20 million people. It is the regional lingua franca with roots that can be traced back to the first millennium AD! It is found in use throughout East Africa (Kenya, Tanzania, Uganda, Rwanda and Burundi) but is also spoken to the north - in parts of Somalia and Ethiopia - and as far south as northern Mozambique and Zambia.
The true Swahili people – mSwahilini – are people from “Coast” (province) - as opposed to the coast. The word ‘Swahili’ itself actually derives from the Arabic word for ‘coast’ and the language was originally the main means of communication between the coastal peoples – since the 700's - starting with a few boats landing at Zanzibar.
Today still, the most pure Swahili is considered to be found among the Zanzibaris, thereafter within greater Tanzania, followed quite a way later by the Swahili found in Kenya - with Nairobi Swahili considered to be ‘Sheng’ (Swahili slang) rather than true kiSwahili. I guess Nairobi Swahili is somewhat akin to Jozi isiZulu (hardly the stuff of high literary lexicons and dictionary discourse)! If truth be told (popular Nairobi expression), a journalist can run into trouble with his Tanzanian editor for an over-reliance on Nairobi Swahili!
Interestingly, the Swahili alphabet – formalized in the 1930’s – includes all the letters of the English alphabet except for ‘Q’ and ‘X’ – funnily enough, exactly those letters that are found so commonly in the Xhosa alphabet! Excuse the cultural stereotype, but it seems that the fabled Xhosa penchant for petty pilfering might have played a part here: seeing that mSwahilini were not using the ‘Q’ and the ‘X’ the Xhosa people thought they might look after the letters and place them in safekeeping for the Swahili!
The First ‘S’:
The word “sasa” (transliteration: saa-saa), in true Swahili, means ‘now’, as in “kuja hapa sasa!”, or “come here now!”. But in Nairobi sheng it denotes so much more. The first alternate (short) meaning is closest, I suppose, to the South African use of "Howzit?” and it might well be used when answering a phone call …
The phone rings. You ‘pick it’ (Kenyan for ‘answer it’) and say:
“Sasa?”
The response you are most likely to get is:
“Poa sana ” (transliteration: a ‘breathy’, ‘percussive’ poh-ah saa-na meaning "very good")
And the self-same question follows, again:
“Sasa?”
To which you'll get a:
"Poa-poa sana" if your buddy is really feeling good today.
Another, slightly more correct use of "sasa" is to say "now ... " but in a more 'open' sense.
It's used like:
"Now ... as I was saying"
As a means of re-opening a subject - perhaps a sensitive one - it is spoken softly and has a gentleness and un-intrusive subtlety that is very charming.
The Second “S”:
“Sema” (sair-mah) in proper Swahili means to 'speak' or to 'say something', yet it is used in a very similar way to “Sasa?” It is a more informal greeting than “Mambo?” and it means “What do you have to say?”, or “What’s up?”
Again, as with “Sasa?”, it essentially boils down to “How are you?” and again, the usual “Poa sana ” - or maybe a more moderate "nzuri sana" - is likely to follow.
“Sema?” has to be distinguished from “(Una) Sema nini?” meaning “You say what?”, which is a more direct question relating to what was just said, or to someone’s opinion of something.
My best was when I asked one of my researchers “Sema nini?”, to which she replied:
“Hakuna story” (“There is no story”).
These days I borrow her phrase when it's appropriate - and it seldom fails to raise a laugh.
By way of a small aside, you have to be careful when using variations of the "Hakuna" story ...
Hakuna matata ("no wurries")
Hakuna matatu ("there is no taxi")
Hakuna matako ("there is no ass")
Hakuna Mutoko ("Kiss FM's Caroline Mutoko is not on air")
Just a little laugh. But now for the ‘clincher’ of the ‘esses’:
The Third “S”:
The third “S” – “Sawa” (saa-waa) - is probably the most commonly used word in the Swahili language. Quite simply, it means “Ok”.
Any conversation will be infused with numerous uses of “sawa” along the way and if an arrangement has been made, the conversation will end with “sawa?” (“Ok?”), followed by the affirmative “sawa-sawa!” (“Ok-Ok!”).
In fact, it often closes a conversation or initiates departure, whether or not there has been any intervening arrangement. It is often just a warm, informal affirmation between friends and also suffices for the more formal “Kwa heri” (“good-bye”), which is seldom used.
The term, and its affirmative reply, are accompanied by many smiles and nods!
As a last rejoinder, I have to mention a rather risqué Bongo-Flava tune that made Tanzainia's Professor Jay famous in East Africa. Sung in Swahili obviously, it does the rounds in the clubs but is heard less often on radio, for reasons you’ll get …
It has a chorus consisting of two very short lines:
“HAPO vipi?” (“How is it THERE?”)
“HAPO sawa!” (“THERE is COOL/OK!”)
The sound of everyone singing it booms above the sound system (with “Sawa” being drawn out and sung as “Saaaaaawaaaaaaaaa!”).
The meaning is clear when the last line is accompanied by vigorous butt-wiggling and coy giggling on the part of the gals. Need I say more?
I have said it before and I shall go forth effusively again: The WAY the language is spoken, its syblent sounds, and the people that speak it, are all beautiful. Sheng commands my respect as a language that is highly dynamic, widely-used and highly descriptive and I’ll end this piece talking about a truly magnificent use of sheng on the streets:
The term “Mambo mbaye” is used in two completely opposite senses, depending entirely on the WAY it is said. Literally, the term means “Bad news”, but when applied to subjects like the quality of music, aesthetics (human or otherwise), or perhaps to the quality of THC, it takes on the same meaning as the term “wicked!” did in the UK some years back.
It takes this meaning only when the emphasis is placed on the second word, “mbaye” (“bad”), to which the affirmative reply might be “mbaye sana”, again with the emphasis on the second word.
What you're saying here is actually, "this is really good shit!"
When the emphasis is placed equally on the two words, it is to be understood more literally, as in “BAD NEWS”. Again, the reply could be “mbaye sana” but both the words will be spoken in a ‘level’ way, agreeing fully (kabisa) with the observation’s originator. A third, even greater agreement will, in fact, be had by the third-and-final inclusion of the agreement, “Kabisa!” ("Fully!"), in the comments.
And here, of course, the reference might be to a female predator trawling for customers at a downtown club. And, in this case, there will REALLY be NO joke contained in the reference at all!
More on this subject later …
Amani na mapenzi.
B-)
Friends ... Indeed
Wednesday, 28th January 2009
For the last two days I have been bothered by an e-mail I received from a close and loyal friend of mine, my ex-bass player, Nick. Nick has done a lot of work for ad agencies in Uganda and travels to this part of the world quite regularly. He accused me of being a little too glib in my criticism of Kenya, considering where South Africa had gone of late, and particularly seeing as I was a “newcomer to Kenya”. Kenya deserved more respect, he said.
I reacted harshly at first. Then I re-read some of my writing. The potential of being ‘read’ like this has bothered me from the start of my political diatribes. And I can see now that Nick was completely rational in seeing some of my later ranting (this year) as instructions to Kenya from a more ‘enlightened being’. Obviously, these pieces were never meant like that… Kenya, I am sorry for sounding in any way arrogant and bettter informed ... or whatever.
If truth be told, in my writing I have had to constantly downplay my adoration of this country and what I feel for its people (within such a short space of time!). This, for fear of being seen as some kinda weird sycophant. Kenya is an indescribably amazing country with blessedly beautiful people. I am secretly SO jealous of what Kenyans have got here (and you know, Kenyans, that I’m not alone in this ‘expat love’ of your country).
Your nation is very special. And this is before you close the gap between what is and what could be! Let me keep quiet about what could and should be. You can sort that out without the help of me. Kenyans, your spirit is so huge that somehow you triumph over your State-domination. How? I really can’t exclude my weird-freaky-ass-mystical take on it and say there’s just a multiplex “vibe” in Kenya. A vibe that, to me at least, can’t be denied. So much more than a “Hakuna Whatsitsface” attitude …
Closing advert: To become free, a lot of South Africans, of every description, put a lot of energy into hastening the end of Apartheid (in my case, through music and live performance). My children enjoy the fruits of a free (albeit violent) country today. That’s important to me. Kenya, if you are to become free, don’t leave it too long. The time really is NOW. Like it’s never been before. (And my view is vindicated by what I hear and read - increasingly - every day).
Kenyans, if there is no change, what legacy are you going to leave for your kids? You have to secure your basic freedoms now.
With a single stone, an ‘avalanche’ will start. Right here, right now.
Amani na Mapenzi
B-)
6.15am, Thursday 29th January 2009
I have been waking up very early of late. Never before have I survived on such little sleep. I’m making it through a pretty hectic day with about 5Hrs sleep on average. The UN Environmental Programme’s esteemed Jenny Clover (she of the TV set in her car) says it’s because I’m happy. I think she’s right. But at least some of the reason for my early waking this is the big sound of bird calls coming from the miniature forest that flourishes over the road from the apartment block. I can hear they are small birds, but the range of different calls is absolutely amazing and in the early morning light their music echoes across the small valley, in the absence of vehicle noise. The sound is really quite beautiful so early in the day.
At least some of the reason for my early rise is also the fact that I have to get to work at about 7.30 today to change the costing of a proposal we wrote yesterday, and send it to client before 9am…
I think there’s a spider in my bed somewhere. I have woken up with huge welts all over my body! I wake up to the sound of Kiss FM, having taken to sleeping with the radio on, playing ‘black’ R&B through the night. I like the music so much more than the white rock thing I’m used to from SA.
It’s now just past 6am and Thika Road is ALREADY jum-pucked according to Caroline Mutoko on Kiss FM. They have what they call ‘butterfly’ cameras on all the main routes and give the radio-listening Nairobi public regular traffic updates during the hilarious drive-time show. The Chinese have been widening and resurfacing Mombasa Road. Usually they stop work at 6am but today it seems they are working a bit later and causing a serious jum. Can you believe that already there are enough Nairobese on the roads – trying to avoid the later jum – to create a trufeek jum at a quarter past six on a Thursday!
Yesterday there was a serious fire at the Nakumatt Downtown. I saw the smoke from 10kms away while at the office. Many thousand Nairobese crowded the scene to watch the (much too late) attempts to extinguish the fire – the fire department, just around the corner, took over an hour to respond to the fire call, evidently. The TV footage showed the public having to be dispersed with tear gas as they crowded the scene and flooded all over the entrance to the Stanley (as in Livingstone) Hotel. (A hotel with prints of the most stunning woordcuts and paintings all over the walls).
Kenya's teachers are on strike. I just heard that the average teachers salary is Ksh7000 before tax. They clear Ksh5800 after tax. That’s less than R800 folks (and, as I have said before, Nairobi ain’t cheap!). No wonder they have gone on strike. A few have been arrested and are currently languishing in Nairobi jails. The rest are simply refusing to work. Government says there’s no more money in the fiscus for their needs. One of Kenya's MP’s is, meantime, effecting renovations to his house to the tune of a few million Shillings. And, believe it or not, most parents are fully in support of the strike. They say they would rather pay a bit more in school fees and know that their kids are getting a good education!
Yesterday Kiss took a microphone and tape recorder onto the streets and interviewed some kids, about the State President. The first kid interviewed said “President Kibaki is a bud mun…”, the next said “President Kibaki has to get everything for free…” I guess that gives you some idea of popular (even young) sentiment here!
Caroline has just bought the latest copy of True Love (that same magazine that is published in SA). She is raving on air about the magazine and tells us that there’s an article in the magazine about bachelors who can’t be read. I'm not quite sure what she means. The bachelors are illegible, according to Caroline. I wonder if they are also eligible to find a partner soon, while still eluding one’s ability to read them?
Sunday, 1st February 2009
It has been an event-filled few weeks since I last wrote.
The first bit of news is that I found a house to rent in the greenbelt suburb of Spring Valley (on Spring Hill, really). Less a house than some sort of mansion, the place has an enormous living area, four bedrooms inside and two cottages outside (yet to be ‘done-up’). Entering the place for the first time (following a tip-off from the Maasai 'askari' - security guard - at our offices), I knew I wanted to live here immediately. It is really beautiful. Expensive, yes, but I have found three house-mates who allow me to pay a fairly normal rental on the place. Unfortunately it doesn’t have a pool but the garden makes up for that on its own. And the pair of black kites that are seen continually circling the sky above our roof just add a little extra something. From the sounds of things there are monkeys living close by too.
Spring Valley is home to a lot of those big-ass four-wheel-drive vehicles I have talked about, with red UN, RC and CD (Corps Diplomatique) number plates. The other day, going to work, I also had the big black Mercedes (replete with Kenyan flag) of our neighbour, a Minister of Parliament (ministry unknown), driving behind me. And coming home the other night, I gave a lift to a late-for-duty policeman (replete with Uzzi sub-machine gun) to the road in which said minister lives. Spring Valley Road has security-controlled access, so I guess it is quite safe living here. I certainly feel safe because I have not yet closed the French doors that lead from the ‘master’ bedroom onto the garden. Anyway, as is the style of large Nairobi homes, we have employed our own security in the form of genuine Samburu Maasai ‘warrior’ (those from northern Kenya who look quite a lot like Somalis) who loves listening to reggae on Radio Metro.
And talking of Somalis, I had the honour the other night of meeting Mima – a member of the Somali royal family – and her husband Jon, a Norwegian who is so into, and knowledgable about, alternative technology it’s frightening. Clearly a genius in his own right, Jon has so much to offer Africa … And he’s about to participate in a sort-of Kyoto Protocol meeting being held here in Nairobi from Monday and featuring the environmental heads of 166 countries, or their emissaries (and his company is called Kyoto!). This meeting is being organized by Jaime’s (my fellow research director) girlfriend, Melissa. She promises to send me a summary of proceedings. I’ll try write more about the new global environment agenda as soon as I get the summary from Melli.
Monday, 23rd February 2009.
It’s been nearly a month since I have written. Work has kept me from it.
I am due to fly to Entebbbe, Uganda, this Sunday as part of a week-long Trade Mission to Kampala and Kigali, Rwanda. Through the East Africa Association, I have set up a number of meetings with people who might be interested in research in their part of the world. I will likely be most enthused when I return and promise to write furiously. Can’t wait.
Moving into this house has been an amazing experience. It has given me a sense of real belonging here and has made me feel that much more comfortable than before (if it’s possible for me to feel more comfortable). Sign of this, perhaps, is that I have got me a lovely ‘girlfriend’. I won’t breach her confidence here, but suffice it to say that Brenda is an amazing woman who I would never have imagined to meet in Kenya. Whatever her soon-to-start contract in Dubai might bring, we have had more fun in a short while than either of us has had in years. She is a part-time model and a rather gifted artist and stylist. She is also a born mimic who has me in stitches with her take on local politicians (and also a few friends of ours). She is really quite special and I suspect (Dubai aside) that we will be together for a while still.
Returning swiftly to my new resident status in Kenya (while still waiting for my permanent resident permit)…
I am increasingly asked, by intrigued Kenyans, about how long I have been here. I am now myself amazed by the fact that I have been here for a mere eleven weeks! I feel like it’s been years already! I feel like I somehow came home and that I am meant to be here. I have numerous local, Kenyan, friends – many of them through Brenda - yet I still get amazed on a daily basis at what I find here. I love this place. It just has SO much going for it.
What is REALLY amazing to me is the fact that I am understanding a great deal of Swahili in daily use. My researchers rattle something off to me and somehow I get the gist of it … They laugh.
Meantime, what other news of Kenya (habari ya Kenya)?
… so much is news that it’s hard to cover it. Brief notes follow:
Shopping in Eastleigh, among thousands of Somalis, Ethiopians and Sudanese. Nothing you can't get for quarter the price you'll pay in town. Every woman wearing a head scarf. Burkas, burkas everywhere, and not a face to see. Brenda warning me that if I take a picture I will get stoned. "But I'm stoned already, baby..." The road through Eastleigh is not a road but a pitted and potholed passageway where busses vie with hand drawn 'trailers' for command of the space.
Going out to Brenda's half-completed house (next to another, very opulent house) in the distant Ngong Hills ... Buying furniture (hand made queen size bed, in mahogany: R800) along Ngong Road on our return. Having supper at Brenda's aunt - owner of a modelling agency - in Kileleshwa. Recognising the differences between Maasai taxi drivers (in regular clothes) versus Kamba drivers versus Luos ... etc. I'm getting to 'see' the differences very clearly. Much laughter in assent when I ask the ethnic question... Buying a puppy - that looks Shepherd but isn't - on Peponi Road. The puppy's name is Moshoeshoe (after the King of the Basotho people) and she lives (of her own choice) under the elephant ear plants in the garden. (And talking of elephants ... a hilarious correction to my earlier assumption about elephants and Nakumatt... Nakumatt is actually derived from "Nakuru Mattress Company" and has absolutely nothing to do with elephants! Thanks, Kairu).
I have recently seen a few live bands that have been pretty good. On Sunday night at Black Diamond I saw a singer who has a voice that would fool the most ardent Marley fan. On the Wednesday before I saw a band at Club Afrique that would scare most pro bands in South Africa (yet they have one gig per week and play to small audiences).
So much more I could talk about ... Later.
Regarding the house mates: Rachel: she of dinner party and South Sudan technology consulting. Sheetal: an Asian Kenyan woman who consults in North Sudan on behalf of her principals in Italy. Then there’s Bob, a well-rounded and informed American with experience in drug and alcohol rehabilitation who is looking for work at an AIDS orphanage or similar (as an unpaid intern if necessary, he says).
Currently, Rachel is in the Sudan. Sheetal is about to embark on the same trade mission as I, and which I mentioned above. And Bob is in Kisumu, having some sort of assessment as a manager for a ‘home’ on the coastal border between Kenya and Tanzania, on Lake Victoria. Brenda and I have just been hanging out at home. I have been going to work and working hard - through lunch and into the night. Hence, so little time to write!
There is so much I want to tell you esteemed readers. But I guess, for now, this will have to do. Back to reviewing some proposals, writing some e-mails, and generally making myself worth Jane’s while…
In closing, here’s a poem I wrote a little while ago:
CAN YOU IMAGINE
Just like the tears of freedom
shed with Madiba,
Wembley Stadium, 1990
I’d still like to be here
(and cry)
when again
I can be a part of Afrika
that proudly says:
“Free at last, we’re Free at last”
KENYA,
CAN YOU
IMAGINE...
Africa!
the world
will shake!
Mapenzi sana
(Lots of love)
B-)
For the last two days I have been bothered by an e-mail I received from a close and loyal friend of mine, my ex-bass player, Nick. Nick has done a lot of work for ad agencies in Uganda and travels to this part of the world quite regularly. He accused me of being a little too glib in my criticism of Kenya, considering where South Africa had gone of late, and particularly seeing as I was a “newcomer to Kenya”. Kenya deserved more respect, he said.
I reacted harshly at first. Then I re-read some of my writing. The potential of being ‘read’ like this has bothered me from the start of my political diatribes. And I can see now that Nick was completely rational in seeing some of my later ranting (this year) as instructions to Kenya from a more ‘enlightened being’. Obviously, these pieces were never meant like that… Kenya, I am sorry for sounding in any way arrogant and bettter informed ... or whatever.
If truth be told, in my writing I have had to constantly downplay my adoration of this country and what I feel for its people (within such a short space of time!). This, for fear of being seen as some kinda weird sycophant. Kenya is an indescribably amazing country with blessedly beautiful people. I am secretly SO jealous of what Kenyans have got here (and you know, Kenyans, that I’m not alone in this ‘expat love’ of your country).
Your nation is very special. And this is before you close the gap between what is and what could be! Let me keep quiet about what could and should be. You can sort that out without the help of me. Kenyans, your spirit is so huge that somehow you triumph over your State-domination. How? I really can’t exclude my weird-freaky-ass-mystical take on it and say there’s just a multiplex “vibe” in Kenya. A vibe that, to me at least, can’t be denied. So much more than a “Hakuna Whatsitsface” attitude …
Closing advert: To become free, a lot of South Africans, of every description, put a lot of energy into hastening the end of Apartheid (in my case, through music and live performance). My children enjoy the fruits of a free (albeit violent) country today. That’s important to me. Kenya, if you are to become free, don’t leave it too long. The time really is NOW. Like it’s never been before. (And my view is vindicated by what I hear and read - increasingly - every day).
Kenyans, if there is no change, what legacy are you going to leave for your kids? You have to secure your basic freedoms now.
With a single stone, an ‘avalanche’ will start. Right here, right now.
Amani na Mapenzi
B-)
6.15am, Thursday 29th January 2009
I have been waking up very early of late. Never before have I survived on such little sleep. I’m making it through a pretty hectic day with about 5Hrs sleep on average. The UN Environmental Programme’s esteemed Jenny Clover (she of the TV set in her car) says it’s because I’m happy. I think she’s right. But at least some of the reason for my early waking this is the big sound of bird calls coming from the miniature forest that flourishes over the road from the apartment block. I can hear they are small birds, but the range of different calls is absolutely amazing and in the early morning light their music echoes across the small valley, in the absence of vehicle noise. The sound is really quite beautiful so early in the day.
At least some of the reason for my early rise is also the fact that I have to get to work at about 7.30 today to change the costing of a proposal we wrote yesterday, and send it to client before 9am…
I think there’s a spider in my bed somewhere. I have woken up with huge welts all over my body! I wake up to the sound of Kiss FM, having taken to sleeping with the radio on, playing ‘black’ R&B through the night. I like the music so much more than the white rock thing I’m used to from SA.
It’s now just past 6am and Thika Road is ALREADY jum-pucked according to Caroline Mutoko on Kiss FM. They have what they call ‘butterfly’ cameras on all the main routes and give the radio-listening Nairobi public regular traffic updates during the hilarious drive-time show. The Chinese have been widening and resurfacing Mombasa Road. Usually they stop work at 6am but today it seems they are working a bit later and causing a serious jum. Can you believe that already there are enough Nairobese on the roads – trying to avoid the later jum – to create a trufeek jum at a quarter past six on a Thursday!
Yesterday there was a serious fire at the Nakumatt Downtown. I saw the smoke from 10kms away while at the office. Many thousand Nairobese crowded the scene to watch the (much too late) attempts to extinguish the fire – the fire department, just around the corner, took over an hour to respond to the fire call, evidently. The TV footage showed the public having to be dispersed with tear gas as they crowded the scene and flooded all over the entrance to the Stanley (as in Livingstone) Hotel. (A hotel with prints of the most stunning woordcuts and paintings all over the walls).
Kenya's teachers are on strike. I just heard that the average teachers salary is Ksh7000 before tax. They clear Ksh5800 after tax. That’s less than R800 folks (and, as I have said before, Nairobi ain’t cheap!). No wonder they have gone on strike. A few have been arrested and are currently languishing in Nairobi jails. The rest are simply refusing to work. Government says there’s no more money in the fiscus for their needs. One of Kenya's MP’s is, meantime, effecting renovations to his house to the tune of a few million Shillings. And, believe it or not, most parents are fully in support of the strike. They say they would rather pay a bit more in school fees and know that their kids are getting a good education!
Yesterday Kiss took a microphone and tape recorder onto the streets and interviewed some kids, about the State President. The first kid interviewed said “President Kibaki is a bud mun…”, the next said “President Kibaki has to get everything for free…” I guess that gives you some idea of popular (even young) sentiment here!
Caroline has just bought the latest copy of True Love (that same magazine that is published in SA). She is raving on air about the magazine and tells us that there’s an article in the magazine about bachelors who can’t be read. I'm not quite sure what she means. The bachelors are illegible, according to Caroline. I wonder if they are also eligible to find a partner soon, while still eluding one’s ability to read them?
Sunday, 1st February 2009
It has been an event-filled few weeks since I last wrote.
The first bit of news is that I found a house to rent in the greenbelt suburb of Spring Valley (on Spring Hill, really). Less a house than some sort of mansion, the place has an enormous living area, four bedrooms inside and two cottages outside (yet to be ‘done-up’). Entering the place for the first time (following a tip-off from the Maasai 'askari' - security guard - at our offices), I knew I wanted to live here immediately. It is really beautiful. Expensive, yes, but I have found three house-mates who allow me to pay a fairly normal rental on the place. Unfortunately it doesn’t have a pool but the garden makes up for that on its own. And the pair of black kites that are seen continually circling the sky above our roof just add a little extra something. From the sounds of things there are monkeys living close by too.
Spring Valley is home to a lot of those big-ass four-wheel-drive vehicles I have talked about, with red UN, RC and CD (Corps Diplomatique) number plates. The other day, going to work, I also had the big black Mercedes (replete with Kenyan flag) of our neighbour, a Minister of Parliament (ministry unknown), driving behind me. And coming home the other night, I gave a lift to a late-for-duty policeman (replete with Uzzi sub-machine gun) to the road in which said minister lives. Spring Valley Road has security-controlled access, so I guess it is quite safe living here. I certainly feel safe because I have not yet closed the French doors that lead from the ‘master’ bedroom onto the garden. Anyway, as is the style of large Nairobi homes, we have employed our own security in the form of genuine Samburu Maasai ‘warrior’ (those from northern Kenya who look quite a lot like Somalis) who loves listening to reggae on Radio Metro.
And talking of Somalis, I had the honour the other night of meeting Mima – a member of the Somali royal family – and her husband Jon, a Norwegian who is so into, and knowledgable about, alternative technology it’s frightening. Clearly a genius in his own right, Jon has so much to offer Africa … And he’s about to participate in a sort-of Kyoto Protocol meeting being held here in Nairobi from Monday and featuring the environmental heads of 166 countries, or their emissaries (and his company is called Kyoto!). This meeting is being organized by Jaime’s (my fellow research director) girlfriend, Melissa. She promises to send me a summary of proceedings. I’ll try write more about the new global environment agenda as soon as I get the summary from Melli.
Monday, 23rd February 2009.
It’s been nearly a month since I have written. Work has kept me from it.
I am due to fly to Entebbbe, Uganda, this Sunday as part of a week-long Trade Mission to Kampala and Kigali, Rwanda. Through the East Africa Association, I have set up a number of meetings with people who might be interested in research in their part of the world. I will likely be most enthused when I return and promise to write furiously. Can’t wait.
Moving into this house has been an amazing experience. It has given me a sense of real belonging here and has made me feel that much more comfortable than before (if it’s possible for me to feel more comfortable). Sign of this, perhaps, is that I have got me a lovely ‘girlfriend’. I won’t breach her confidence here, but suffice it to say that Brenda is an amazing woman who I would never have imagined to meet in Kenya. Whatever her soon-to-start contract in Dubai might bring, we have had more fun in a short while than either of us has had in years. She is a part-time model and a rather gifted artist and stylist. She is also a born mimic who has me in stitches with her take on local politicians (and also a few friends of ours). She is really quite special and I suspect (Dubai aside) that we will be together for a while still.
Returning swiftly to my new resident status in Kenya (while still waiting for my permanent resident permit)…
I am increasingly asked, by intrigued Kenyans, about how long I have been here. I am now myself amazed by the fact that I have been here for a mere eleven weeks! I feel like it’s been years already! I feel like I somehow came home and that I am meant to be here. I have numerous local, Kenyan, friends – many of them through Brenda - yet I still get amazed on a daily basis at what I find here. I love this place. It just has SO much going for it.
What is REALLY amazing to me is the fact that I am understanding a great deal of Swahili in daily use. My researchers rattle something off to me and somehow I get the gist of it … They laugh.
Meantime, what other news of Kenya (habari ya Kenya)?
… so much is news that it’s hard to cover it. Brief notes follow:
Shopping in Eastleigh, among thousands of Somalis, Ethiopians and Sudanese. Nothing you can't get for quarter the price you'll pay in town. Every woman wearing a head scarf. Burkas, burkas everywhere, and not a face to see. Brenda warning me that if I take a picture I will get stoned. "But I'm stoned already, baby..." The road through Eastleigh is not a road but a pitted and potholed passageway where busses vie with hand drawn 'trailers' for command of the space.
Going out to Brenda's half-completed house (next to another, very opulent house) in the distant Ngong Hills ... Buying furniture (hand made queen size bed, in mahogany: R800) along Ngong Road on our return. Having supper at Brenda's aunt - owner of a modelling agency - in Kileleshwa. Recognising the differences between Maasai taxi drivers (in regular clothes) versus Kamba drivers versus Luos ... etc. I'm getting to 'see' the differences very clearly. Much laughter in assent when I ask the ethnic question... Buying a puppy - that looks Shepherd but isn't - on Peponi Road. The puppy's name is Moshoeshoe (after the King of the Basotho people) and she lives (of her own choice) under the elephant ear plants in the garden. (And talking of elephants ... a hilarious correction to my earlier assumption about elephants and Nakumatt... Nakumatt is actually derived from "Nakuru Mattress Company" and has absolutely nothing to do with elephants! Thanks, Kairu).
I have recently seen a few live bands that have been pretty good. On Sunday night at Black Diamond I saw a singer who has a voice that would fool the most ardent Marley fan. On the Wednesday before I saw a band at Club Afrique that would scare most pro bands in South Africa (yet they have one gig per week and play to small audiences).
So much more I could talk about ... Later.
Regarding the house mates: Rachel: she of dinner party and South Sudan technology consulting. Sheetal: an Asian Kenyan woman who consults in North Sudan on behalf of her principals in Italy. Then there’s Bob, a well-rounded and informed American with experience in drug and alcohol rehabilitation who is looking for work at an AIDS orphanage or similar (as an unpaid intern if necessary, he says).
Currently, Rachel is in the Sudan. Sheetal is about to embark on the same trade mission as I, and which I mentioned above. And Bob is in Kisumu, having some sort of assessment as a manager for a ‘home’ on the coastal border between Kenya and Tanzania, on Lake Victoria. Brenda and I have just been hanging out at home. I have been going to work and working hard - through lunch and into the night. Hence, so little time to write!
There is so much I want to tell you esteemed readers. But I guess, for now, this will have to do. Back to reviewing some proposals, writing some e-mails, and generally making myself worth Jane’s while…
In closing, here’s a poem I wrote a little while ago:
CAN YOU IMAGINE
Just like the tears of freedom
shed with Madiba,
Wembley Stadium, 1990
I’d still like to be here
(and cry)
when again
I can be a part of Afrika
that proudly says:
“Free at last, we’re Free at last”
KENYA,
CAN YOU
IMAGINE...
Africa!
the world
will shake!
Mapenzi sana
(Lots of love)
B-)
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