We sat and we talked about it.
words – flung in the air like daffodil seeds,
like the infamous elephant, filled up the room
remember when you killed the sunshine, and presented me with doom?
when you walked out and came back different.
when you gripped my hand; fists tight,
heart bent, love falling and time spent,
and let it go again
I remember happiness hiding under the couch,
crouched to make her escape
as we battled with words stained with anger
so red it blocked our view.
she (happiness) stepped out of her shoes and onto the sill.
a deep breath, closed eyes, then…
I blamed you for my fleece stained black from following you through darkness
(you are Mary I the lamb,) no longer quite as white as snow;
you blame me for your dull edge and your timelessness,
a knight! coddled by love! And addicted to sighs in the night
and moans!
still… I can never not say I love;
a double edged negative like irony is a double edges sword.
ironic that I am mixed in my affections towards your up and downiness,
that your circular reflex sense is both organised and sanityless,
that our love is the same as our not hate the same way my love is my hate,
the same way the universe is many things and one thing,
and everything and nothing.
Ondi Madete
I am fortunate to have been brought up in a family that loved storytelling, free thought and music. So much strength was passed down to me that I took strength for granted and only learned how messed up the world is after I left home and entered what people call the ‘real’ one. In this real world I got a degree (law of all things) found myself a job (UP Magazine among others) and contemplated the future. It seemed grim. I couldn’t do law- I like my hair kinky (read untidy) too much, and colourful clothes, and justice. And the selfish and greedy nature of the corporate capitalistic machine that Kenya is has me running from employment in general.
But stuck in a time and place where to ‘survive’ one must be employed I search for a means of survival that doesn’t kill my soul. Art, music, literature, storytelling… things I love and until recently feared the world with its sadistic pleasure in hating and hurting would kill. Even a little creative expression is better than one hour sitting in an office doing nothing you love.
My search has led me to sing in the band Yellow Light Machine, start an event services business by the name of Ndio Kweli, run Kiota every few months, an event that seeks to share and bring together Nairobi’s creative community. Writing and literature are a big part of what makes me who I am and are the threads that run between all my projects, and in most aspects of my life. I have no concrete plans for the future. With very little help from me or my motives I am here now and I seem to be going somewhere. I have a disturbing number of blogs each given some attention sometimes and no attentions other times, if I were you I wouldn’t expect any clear direction or motive or point…
Mzururo.wordpress.com
ndiokweli.wordpress.com
vivusviciest.tumblr.com