2007|01
www.poetrypotion.com
www.poetrypotion.com EDITED BY ZAMANTUNGWA.PUBLISHED BY ZAMANTUNGWA MEDIA CC Š all rights reserved. no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrievable system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, photocopying or otherwise without prior written permission of the copyright owners: the poets and zamantungwa media cc. all poets retain the rights to their work. any copying or sharing of this work for financial gain is infringement of copyright and will be procecuted according to the law.
editorial
What is poetry?
First, let me attempt to answer what a poet is. Khalil Gibran says that "A poet is a bird of unearthly excellence, who escapes from his celestial realm, arrives in this world warbling. If we do not cherish him, he spreads his wings and flies back into his homeland." So, I guess then poetry is the consequence of this unearthly excellence realised or rather excellence conceived, nurtured and birthed for all to bask in its "unearthly" glory. Living in a world that is filled with senseless terror, constantly we are bombarded with images that prove the ugliness of society. Yet beauty lies dormant unseen between the cracks of our madness. You see, this beauty, this unearthly excellence is everywhere - unseen by most. And beauty ñ another word hard to define - is never one thing; it is always a little bit of this and a bit of that; something like this but nothing like that. And while ordinary society trudges ahead in the rat race fighting for survival: too busy, too tired, too illiterate to stop to admire, take in, immerse itself in its own beauty there you will find the poet. The poet (sometimes dressed as a philosopher often looking like insanity personified) ponders lifeís loves and hates, takes too serious lifeís ills and pains. And in Gibranís words the poet goes unnoticed and unappreciated and with the body battered and wings bruised flies away back into the etherÖ Sepamla, Kunene, Sontonga, Motadinyane, Nxumalo... too many to remember or mention. It is with the need to recognise and cherish this "bird of unearthly excellence" before it disappears that I give you poetrypotion.com. In this first offering, I present poetry, a closer glimpse at poets, reviews of poetry events social commentary and a guide on where to find poetry. In Poetess, I spoke to Jessica Mbangeni - The Slamming Imbongi - I caught up with her the 10th Annual Poetry Africa in Johannesburg. At the same event, in Durban, I had the honour of meeting a real griot, Alhaji Papa Susso check out our chat also in Poetess. In Poetry inJustice, Briggs Bomba contemplates the SABCs censorship tactics and I discuss the lack of an Afrikan economy in Nigger What!? See our event reviews in Poetry Seen ñ believe me the standard is high ñ here we rate the potency of some of our recent poetry events and also let you know whatís happening in the future. And finally, sample some of my favourite poets work manifesting in the ever unearthly excellence of word and visual ñ in Poetry and Visual Poetry. I truly hope that you enjoy this first step and trust that you will not hesitate to offer your thoughts, (praises and criticisms), ideas and send in your poetry, photography and art. Soon Poetry Potion will also accept multimedia work but more on that later. "Beauty is eternity gazing at itself in the mirror. and you are the mirror." Khalil Gibran peace.
16/03/2007
But you are eternity
ikonikafrika
What makes an Icon? Coca Cola, Mona Lisa, Virgin, Mandela, Haile Selassie, the Protea, the Panda, the Kangaroo, the Godfather, Red/Black/Green, Blue jeans, the Jackson Five, etc, etc. They are icons in one way or another.
But what is an icon?
A style icon, for instance, someone like Jackie Onassis or Princess Diana is considered a trendsetter when it comes to style. The way they dressed is considered stylish and classically fashionable.
But what really makes an icon?
In the infamous Greatest South Afrikan endeavour by the SABC we all quickly realised that what's great to one person is horrible to another. We have Eugene Tereblanche being nominated greatest South Afrikan right there next to Desmond Tutu! So, while others may consider Haile Selassie an Afrikan icon others consider him a dictator. What do you think? This page seeks to honour great Afrikans, particularly those that are overlooked by popular history. That old woman who feeds three hundred neighbourhood orphans, that young boy who saved lives should be celebrated right alongside the Nkrumahs, Mandelas and NgoyiĂs of this world.
What do you think makes an icon? Send in your answers and suggestions of who or what you should be given iconic status to
we will publish these in the next month.
featured poem
afrika without borders version II
hiding behind the skirts of victimization, little progress pulling the rug from other africans' feet independence no longer sweet freedom still a pipedream porous borders policing people valiantly, all in vain an island of prosperity in a sea of poverty hope hanging by a thread like a broken record africans of all hues prowling 4 meaningful cues claim their motherland from a petit bourgeoisie in afrika people need dreams not borders the pride of madness becoming delusion, lapped up like strawberry & cream power failures are the norm broken fingernails worked to the bone perhaps rent a retiring concord african women sold export double digit growth all round across permeable borders no borders, no drama queens is afrika beyond redemption motho ke motho ka batho i am because you are umuntu ngumuntu ngabantu
Š nyakale mokgosi
poetry seen
Poetry Africa Slam Jams Arts Alive Speak the Mind Vuvuzelas, drums, screaming crowds and scorecards are usual associated with sports like soccer or rugby not poetry. Right? Wrong! This is the Slam Jams, Durbanstyle. Slam poetry is slowly gaining popularity all over South Afrika. Even Joíburg has a Slam Jam, but the way Durban does its Slam Jam is exciting, lively, energetic and wild. Poetry Africa's move to open the 2006 annual festival in Johannesburg in October drew large crowds of poetry lovers to the MuseumAfrika. The Slam Jams opened Poetry Africa in Johannesburg and closed it a week later in Durban. Hosted by Durbanites Eric 'Coolfire' Hadebe and Rose Mokhosi it featured poets Kojo Bafoe (only in Joíburg), Ewok, Lexicon, Mphutlane wa Bofelo, imbongi Jessica Mbangeni and Henry Bowers (from Sweden). If you thought poetry was for silent winedrinking crowds, then you have not experienced this Slam Jam - the crowds are wild, cheering, vuvuzela-blowing, drum beating and constantly on their knees bowing to the poets. Props to the poets, the MCs and Poetry Africa for bringing the SLAM to the Poetry! The Poetry Africa Slam Jams get 4 bubbling cauldrons for a potent potion.
Not much to say about this poetry event, canít even be nice. Arts Alive presented poetry in the 2006 festival, almost Urban Voices style, but with no style ñ at all. The event staged some of the best poets in South Afrika and the rest of Afrika in school-concert fashion one after the other for over three hours without an interval. This event had no form or thought put behind it. They just thought "let's call this a festival but put a poetry session on a big stage". The MC, Julius Makweru, tried his best to entertain the audience but the fact is, the show sucked. If it weren't for great performers like Tumi (of the Volume), Myesha Jenkins, Professor Kwame, Napo Masheane, Chiwoniso and Chirikure, Blindfold and Aryan Kaganoff audiences would have left after one hour. To Arts Alive: (1/2) To the performers: (5) To the audiences for sticking it out: (4)
poetry seen started. I'm ready to take the BUM campaign to the streets! I can see it all, the posters, the BUMper stickers, the buttons - hey, the BUMs will take over the world - Ok, let me first tell you what Iím on about If you have not yet heard of 'My Bum is Genetic, Deal With It!' clearly you are not swinging on the correct grapevine or maybe you are one of those who donít love the Afrikan Bum. BUM is a one-hour theatrical piece conceptualised, written and performed by Napo Masheane, "a beautiful woman with a typical African body" - the PR said it not me. Her quest throughout this play is to recruit other women around the world to join her new political party, BOOTIES UNITED IN MOVEMENT a.k.a BUM, to take a stand and tell their stories to the world about having and loving an African body. If you can relate to the images of beauty and how they mark us consciously or subconsciously then this is for you. As we watched the play, many of us (sisters) could not help but burst into hysterical laughter as we recognised ourselves in the stories played out on stage. By the time we left, I'm sure that many of us were ready to be cardcarrying members of BUM. Not only were we entertained but we left changed inspired, affirmed and celebrated. Ok, so far Iíve forgotten to mention the brothers, they were there too but really I donít know if they could relate, I donít really care - BUM is a subtle call for sisters to totally love themselves. The BUM Forum calls for all booties to Unite! A review of "My Bum is Genetic, Deal With It!" by Zamantungwa Previewed: 21 & 22 September 2006 at the Market Lab, Newtown. Never before have I walked out of a show with a bounce in stride, a smile on my face and a spark in my soul... A man had nothing to do with it. Only a woman, Napo Masheane: poet, actor, playwright, director and (dare I say) BUM master. I hope that Napo realises what she has
Napo says, "BUM is an affirmation of growth and acceptance... a stand against a global talk on how people's bodies should be fixed or reconstructed." BUM was directed by John Matshikiza. BUM was only previewed for two nights at the Market Laboratory before going on an international tour. The play is set to tour South Afrika in the near future; Poetry Potion will keep you informed. Usista u-focussed! lovely website.
Check out Ms Napo's
poetry profile
Jessica Mbangeni the slamming mbongi by zamantungwa
For a while, Iíve had little regard for imbongi of the Xhosa tradition. noise!"
"What's the all the
I've often said.
always interrupt things?" me spoke...
Jessica Mbangeni is a beautiful, gracious, talented, inspiring and inspired imbongi (a praise poet). Daughter, sister, mother, actor, poet, singer - and now, dare I add
"Why do they
ñ Slam poet!
The snob in
at the opening of the 10th Poetry Africa
Although, I shouldn't tell
I had a chat with Jessica
at Museum Afrika about possession, the
you this but, most of the time I don't
Muse, her journey into poetry and the
understand - lesiXhosa sivame ukuba deep!
Poetry Africa Slam Jam.
Too deep! out.
And so, I shut the 'noise'
But every once in a while comes
She has performed
on many stages all over the country including the Soweto Gospel Choir and in
along someone who will change your mind
Victor Ntoniís Mzansi pays Tribute to OR
and force you to sit straight and listen.
Tambo for the name-change ceremony of the Airport.
"It's like you are taken to another world," Jessica says. "Inyange lesihobe sends you, I didn't choose this." "I'd laugh at my friend who used to praise at church, I'd be so embarrassed," Jessica exclaims.
"How can you dare stand up in front of the people, in the middle of
the program and say your own things!" For someone who used to feel embarrassed by izimbongi, Jessica now takes pride and confidence in being imbongi.
In the footsteps of Ntsikana, an imbongi and prophet,
imbongi celebrates the triumphs of a king and a nation but also speaks up when the king is erring.
An imbongi does not have to wait to be introduced or be put on
the program in order for them to praise (perform).
In most instances, even they
donít have a say when the Muse instructs them to speak. Jessica never chose poetry.
"It was the purpose of god... a lot of the words I
utter, even I don't know the meaning of."
"I want to instil pride in them." Although she had been writing for a number of years, she never thought her 'songs' were poetry.
Friends and mentors encouraged her to write more.
In 1999, she wrote
her first poem, Ugawulayo, for a play - then she thought it was a song.
Jessica
first realised her purpose as imbongi when the "ancient muse of poetry" took over and overwhelmed her.
She was trying to comfort her crying two year old when she
began to recite a poem, the words of which she believes came from a higher power. Ever since then, she acknowledges the Muse and continues to praise, writing and performing mostly in isiXhosa.
For Jessica, writing and performing poetry is like
possession. "It's like you are taken to another world," Jessica says.
"Inyange lesihobe sends
you, I didnĂt choose this." She writes and recites about the positives of this country, praising greatness and good.
She speaks out against social ills - be they politics or morals, she draws
poet profile from her background constantly being fed by the Poetry Muse. to promoting, celebrating and investing in culture.
Jessica is dedicated
When she steps onto a stage,
the audience knows even before she utters a word that they are looking a proud Xhosa woman.
By writing and performing in isiXhosa, Jessica wants to inform us, maintain
our cultural integrity and preserve our cultures.
"The Ancient muse of Poetry lives, so god going to help me deal with this because Iím god myself." In keeping with her work, during the 10th Poetry Africa, she worked with izinye izimbongi of the Tswana, Sotho and Zulu traditions ñ Mandisa Phandliwe, Joe Ntloana and Botsotso Mhlaba, respectively.
They held workshops at high schools.
"Kids are in trouble, if they are not rolling in English. in them."
Jessica states.
I want to instil pride
"You have to be proud of yourself, your indigenous
languages and your traditional clothing.
These are the things that make you who
you are." Jessica also found herself performing in a Slam Jam Add a hyperlink here to Poetry Seen (see the Slam Jam review - Poetry Seen) for the first time. poet as she is, Jessica was sceptical about her first.
As powerful a
Slam Poetry is after all
a style that was created in the USA and influenced by Hip Hop. "The Ancient muse of Poetry lives, so god going to help me deal with this because Iím god myself." And the judges, who were made up the audience, scored her high both in Johannesburg and Durban.
Seeing an imbongi clean up the Slam was really an experience.
This
sister is grounded in her spirituality and culture; her poetry inspires many and will continue to do long as long is... Her favourite poem is called 'Mama Afrika' a poem that salutes Afrikans for being who they are; it talks about peace and standing for truth in the days of struggle.
It celebrates Madiba and all other
influential Afrikans like Mxenge Add a hyperlink here to IkonikAfrika, OR Tambo, Steve Biko, Robert Sobukwe and encourages the generations to come to carry on from where these leaders have left off. "I'm a messenger and a voice of the people," Jessica Mbangeni.
poetry
haiku 101
rap video nuances ornate slave chains air-kissing summer bunnies passĂŠ
haiku 103
beautiful wrinkles across a sagacious face my mama rocks
haiku 120
black is beautiful tight cornrows incite lust dazzles till dust to dust
Š Nyakale Mokgosi
what is freedom of speech if i can't speak my mind?
poetry
Starvation is My Name Starvation is my name. My friends call me Tlala-Fela*, I survive in a Zozo* On the outskirts of Klippies*. I play amongst street kids Our favourite game is nix-mapha*. At night When knuckles knock Against my door, I skop* skotlolo* under matrase* of my house of hunger. Born with-out in the belly of wounded dreams. I only carry death in my heart. My mission is to capitalize On a system of booze and cheap drugs, How I love Poisoning young blood. I hate beggars They expose my true colours I hunger to kill lemigokgo* before they are born Rip their intestines like a ravaging beast Whenever I need to feed. Foreign Whities* Unlike Boertjies* Flash their cameras teeth in my face. I am never ashamed To strike a pose nude as truth On a poverty stage.
Š Kabelo Mofokeng
Glossary* Tlala-fela - only hunger Zozo Ăą tin-house Klippies - Kliptown nix-mapha - a game suggesting no sharing skop - kick skotlolo-an aluminium bowl used for eating matrase-martyrs Lemigokgo-tame/worthless dogs Whities-white people Boertjies-racist white people or Afrikaans speaking
poetry
Mocking Beast The earth opened up Bodies were swallowed up Machine guns rattled, The purple sky Turned red with rage And poured fire upon the earth Children of the soil Ran for cover Like ants to a colony. The day was June 16 When the 7 headed beast mocked students. I grabbed its horns And twisted its neck Whilst the beast bled Mothers cried For their loved ones Buried under cumulus clouds Of a black rainbow nation Fading with in the mist of broken promises. From then till now Sunrays failed to shine Upon the face of Azania. It was the apocalypse On repentance day The gods spoke in Rajahfarian tongues and said: "Death lives within us"
Š Kabelo Mofokeng
poetic injustice
when silence is not golden by briggs bomba
For a long time now, ordinary Zimbabweans have had an expectation that South Africa will use its leverage as the biggest political and economic power in Sub-Saharan Afrika to support the realisation of the democratic ideals of the people of Zimbabwe by helping to resolve the crippling poverty and socio-economic breakdown gripping the nation. While Pretoria has played a direct role in places like Lesotho and others as far as DRC, Ivory Cost, Sudan and so on, the attitude towards the crisis gripping its northern neighbour has been characterised by an unintelligible stance. Officially defined as "quite diplomacy" this practice camouflages the reality of Pretoria's subtle support for the Mugabe regime. The role played by the South African government, its public institutions as well as the South African private sector cannot be described as anything less than a complicity relationship with the regime of Robert Mugabe. The people of Zimbabwe, thus, feel understandably let down by their one key neighbour who could have the greatest influence on the present crisis.
"...this is a very peaceful country, contrary to many reports out there..." Details revealed in the recent Sisulu Commission of enquiry into the SABC only add on to this feeling of great betrayal. It has emerged that certain voices were blacklisted for having particular views on the Zimbabwe crisis. Dr Snuki Zikalala the Managing Director of SABC News and Current Affairs (and a former ANC political commissar) is said to be responsible for instructing the blacklisting. Among those banned from the station are Archbishop Pius Ncube of the Roman Catholic Church; Mail and Guardian publisher Trevor Ncube; Elinor Sisulu, the Media manager for the Crisis Coalition South Africa office and political analyst Moeletsi Mbeki (young brother to President Thabo Mbeki) a strong critic of Mugabe's policies. This is a serious scandal if one considers the fact that the SABC as a public broadcaster has an obligation to provide the public with a balanced view on the crisis in Zimbabwe. Zikalala justifies banning Ncube by saying, "Trevor Ncube has his newspapers which he uses to attack Mugabe everyday and why should I give him space on my broadcaster". He thinks Elinor Sisulu and Moeletsi Mbeki are removed and misinformed. He hasn't had the courage to tell anyone why Pius Ncube should not be allowed to comment on Zimbabwe. Whatever Zikalala says, it doesn't take a nuclear physicist to see that his agenda is to systematically marginalize voices critical of Mugabe's policies from the SABC. This is the latest in a series of evidence confirming how the SABC is violating Journalism's cardinal principle of giving professional and unbiased coverage and instead is acting as a "solidarity broadcaster" for Mugabe's regime. The SABC's coverage of Zimbabwe's 2005 parliamentary elections springs to mind. The broadcaster had a team of 59 journalists in the country whose coverage of the elections was nothing less than a public relations mission for Mugabe and his regime. When Zimbabweans were dismissing the elections as predetermined, citing serious distortions of the playing field in favour of the ruling party, the SABC's main
poetic injustice anchor Hope Zinde shocked Zimbabweans by declaring, within a matter of a few hours of checking into Harare's Sheraton Hotel, that the conditions were conducive for free and fair elections. "The first thing that I have to say", she said in her report, "is that this is a very peaceful country, contrary to many reports out there..." Zinde was saying all this contrary to reports of serious intimidation and violations recorded by local and international monitors. Also remembered is Zikalala's interview with Mugabe just after the elections, where he proved to be a fan of the despised dictator. It was an embarrassing show. Zikalala behaved like a shy schoolboy helpfully avoiding confronting Mugabe with any difficult questions. No questions were asked about the serious violations of the SADC Protocol on elections as recorded by various local and international observers. No questions about the issues of equal opportunities for all parties to access state media, the independence of the Judiciary or the impartiality of the electoral institutions. Nothing about the draconian acts that have seriously restrictive political space, the violence and intimidation, the politicisation of food distribution or the banning and disruption of opposition meetings. No questions about the attack and forced closure of independent press and so on. None of this was important to Zikalala. At the end of the interview, he even complimented Mugabe saying, "it's a very peaceful country and we have seen the economic turnaround ourselves". What peace! Which economic turnaround? For the SABC to take such a partisan stance, it is the most disgraceful thing a public broadcaster that holds itself in high regard can ever do. To have on this very late hour, the likes of the SABC being part of the band wagon playing smoke and mirrors and deceiving the world on the reality of the situation in Zimbabwe today is not just extremely unfortunate but also most dishonourable. If the matter at stake were a sporting match, this would have been just silly. However, in this case, this shameful conduct cannot be anything less than tragic because the crisis in Zimbabwe is now a humanitarian emergency in which millions of innocent lives are at stake.
Under Mugabe's dictatorship, people have been reduced to a nation of foraging paupers stripped of any dignity. Mothers have to endure the pain of seeing their children wail of hunger and not knowing what to do. Workers can barely go through a week on a minimum wage. Communities have to cope without basics like water and electricity. The sick cannot get medication. The vast majority of the population is now destitute and just waiting for God. And what is revolting is that people are told not to complain Ăą at gunpoint! Recently, the world saw shocking images of Mugabe's police brutalising workers
who dared to raise their voices. For simply exercising their democratic right to peacefully march in protest against unbearable levels of poverty, demanding an end to harassment of informal traders and calling for access to ARVs, ZCTU workers were brutalised by MugabeĂs dogs. Footage from the march shows Zimbabwe Republic Police mercilessly pounding arrested workers with baton sticks. The images are so barbaric that they invoke memories of colonial era state barbarism. Testimonies from the arrested workers tell of unrelenting beatings and torture within cells. The ZCTU secretary general, Wellington Chibhebhe, was
beaten until he lost consciousness. The Vice President, Lucia Matibenga, suffered a burst eardrum from repeated clapping and photos show her whole body bruised and blackened. Many others including the ZCTU President, Lovemore Matombo, have broken limbs. If the thuggish behaviour of the police was shocking, even more outrageous was to hear Mugabe audaciously condoning these callous acts. This is the point history must record: the impunity and well-documented cruelty of the Zimbabwe Republic Police has blessings from Mugabe himself. This shows that MugabeĂs exhausted regime owes its survival
poetic injustice to force and coercion. Violence has become the regime's first instinct and in its exhausted mentality, the regime stupidly believes that torturing the messengers will somehow destroy the message. This is the reality that Zikalala and his kind do not want the world to see. It has become the habit of the regime to brutally thwart any protest. Mothers have been beaten and locked up for handing out roses on the streets and peacefully demanding justice. Student activists have been detained and tortured at maximum prisons for defending the right to education. Civil society activists are harassed and frustrated left right and centre. Whatever people like Zikalala do, the truth of the matter is that the voices of protest, as recently expressed by the ZCTU and other brave activists, resonates deep within the hearts of millions of Zimbabweans. The peace that Zikalala and the likes of Hope Zinde preach to the world is in reality a tense silence maintained through guns, baton sticks and the threat of things worse. The SABC's shameful stance on Zimbabwe must be understood as consistent to Pretoria's own deplorable foreign policy on Zimbabwe. The South African government observer missions to ZimbabweĂs disputed elections since 2000 have been the quickest to declare a free and fair verdict and dismiss irregularities raised by other local and international observers. To this day, the South African government has failed to live up to its international responsibility to Zimbabweans, refusing to acknowledge the full extent of the crisis in Zimbabwe. At the same time, South Africa has been the first to frustrate efforts to bring Zimbabwe on the agenda of multi-lateral fora. What one does not understand is why Mbeki fails to act positively on Zimbabwe when it is clear that the degeneration of Zimbabwe has an adverse social impact on South Africa and will ultimately have severe consequences for regional stability. Already South Africa is seriously inundated with thousands of Zimbabwean political and economic refugees escaping the crisis. These poor victims of the Zimbabwe crisis are not even regarded as refugees who deserve protection under international law but just as illegal immigrants who are hunted down like criminals, detained in the most deplorable conditions and deported back to Zimbabwe. In the face of such shameful conduct from Pretoria, an urgent task therefore lies on the shoulders of progressive minded South Africans to extend a hand of solidarity to the people of Zimbabwe. Unequivocal positions taken so far by COSATU, South African Social Movements and recently the Progressive Youth Alliance in support of the democratic struggle in Zimbabwe need the support of the wider South African population. With the ruling elite extending unprincipled solidarity to each other, the only hope and effective counter is principled people to people solidarity. The South African public must call on their government and public institutions like the SABC to account for their disgraceful collusion with the oppression in Zimbabwe. At this hour of greatest need, there is nothing more unhelpful to the cause of democracy and social justice in Zimbabwe than this silence from South Africa. Despite all these odds, Zimbabweans retain the deepest conviction that justice will ultimately prevail over brutal repression because history itself is always on the side of justice. Always. And at the end, Zimbabweans will remember not just the deeds of their oppressors but also the complicity of their neighbours. Uhuru!
Freedom!
Rusununguko!
Nkululeko!
Onward with the struggle comrades!
We shall overcome!
Briggs Bomba is a Zimbabwean activist; he can be reached on To comment on this article write to - a selection of comments will be published in the next month.
featured poem
Give ME Love (Cry of a Common Man)
give me love, donít gimme sex I've seen too musch of that Besides, I donít wanna waste my sweat Gimme strength and the knowledge I need to enhance my consciousness Gimme love so that I can find peace within myself Give me education, give me skills So that I can increase my abilities To compete for job opportunities Gimme a job so that I can pay the bills And feed my seeds. Gimme love so that I can find peace Gimme love, donít give me an empty bag Filled with promises Get me a piece of land So that I can build myself A home where I can lay my head. Gimme work so that I can pay the rent I need books to read, give me libraries Don't give me lies, give me the truth please I don't need you weapons, donít give me guns Give me schools, give me all the necessary tools That I need to school the youth Gimme love, so that I can find peace And spread it in all the streets. Give me access to insight So that I can promote and exercise Protect and realise my socio-economic rights Pleeze, don't privatise my right to a decent life Give me clinics so that I can take care of the sick and weak Don't feel pity for me, I don't need your sympathy Gimme love, don't give me charity Show me some solidarity Show me love, show me some humanity Give me peace, give me justice and equity So that I can change my poverty dominated reality Gimme love so that I can find peace And spread it in all the streets.
© Righteous the Common Man
poetry
Levi's Generation Child of foetus Enemy of deceivers Make you believers You provide retrievers Reap-assessors Re-posses Truth not scriptures Non-acceptors Non-pleasers Forget givers Mother Teresa Over achievers Live teachers Armies can't defeat us Time turned spectators Eighty-fivers in wait for wealth not dealt us We the takers Never ask us To wait for kindness Of those that rape us They rob us Then lock us Up in sanatoriums Then feed us Fashions, which only hinders Natural thought process Impress us Empresses Intrigues fascinate us With exotics us Exalt us Mesmerise us Look like us Think like us Focus on black Barbie doll image by us U too can wear Strauss U too can wear Strauss U too can wear Strauss Levi's generation Buys freedom expression Fake emancipation Figment imagination Realisation lies true Defy you Deny through Time Mind lost Blacks boxed Levi Strauss cons Joe dons
poetry
Stop nothing Coz still laughing Pons still mopping up Spilt milk Give it The poor to drink Make 'em think They didn't blink See past winks It stinks We can't all be rich Reach for a dream Go mainstream Start to skeem White wash clean Being civilizing Biting real Commercialising Sympathyzing Eventually we're all rising Pimping housing self Seeking wealth Ten-percenta Money spent on Immaterial backdrops Shop 'til you drop The confidence spot Dot t's Line eyes carve ears Hear what appears Not said Right not read Born not bred Scorned not scared Souls porned not paired For the latest gear to disguise our fear The latest gear to disguise our fear
Š Yoliswa Mogale
remembering
Sekou Sundiata:
writer, poet, performer and educator
photo
Sekou Sundiata (born Robert Franklin Feaster in Aug 22 1948) died in July 2007 from heart failure. He was 58 years old and lived in Brooklyn, New York. Sundiata, a multi-faceted writer and performer, was considered the father of the spoken word movement. He wrote plays like Udu and Blessing the Boats; he also recorded his poetry in albums like The Blue Oneness of Dreams and Longstoryshort. He performed all over the world and in South Afrika in 2006 at the Urban Voices Poetry Festival. He was a writing professor at the New School University of Manhattan. May he rest in peace... his voice and words will forever live.
poetry
Dr Capitalism I am dr capitalism The godfather of isms and schisms I stand for individualism monetarism and westernism Yesterday when I was in a state of primitivism I was then called feudalism no, not thy communalism I robbed Africa with violence, slavery fraudulence and colonialism I rule with the church, market, state nepotism, commercialism and imperialism I am dr capitalism the godfather of isms and schisms I fight aetheism and paganism with my God-complexism IĂm God I make guns to kill internationalism I come with war macarthyism to wipe out communism I contest anything and detest everything about socialism I discourage all from activism bolshevism and radicalism I am dr capitalism the godfather of isms and schisms I don't mind stalinism because that's still europeanism IĂve no sympathy at all for africanism or pan-africanism I divide with partisanism sectarianism and tribalism I undermine unity with cabalism elitism and factionalism I stifle oneness with homophobia xenophobia and racism
poetry
I am dr capitalism the godfather of isms and schisms I lynch thy ubuntu/botho or humanism with americanism To me, blacks stand accused of barbarism, cannibalism and heathenism I demote so-called 'rastafarianism' and promote materialism I plant democracy, white supremacy consumerism and egoism I breed greed, lies, alcoholism ageism, spiritism or Satanism I am dr capitalism the godfather of isms and schisms I sex so much that I am accused of sexual hedonism I invade anywhere and conquer everywhere with sexism I belittle, negate and ridicule womanism with machoism I denounce and renounce demonise and refuse feminism I hardly recognise womanĂs rights due to male chauvinism I am dr capitalism the godfather of isms and schisms I gave birth to Calvinism fascism, nazism and Zionism I dig globalisation and privatisation no not collectivism I build a racial and class society without egalitarianism I spread prejudice, injustice militarism and neo-liberalism I oppose afrocentrism with force, rape and eurocentrism.
Š Zwelethemba Twalo
ikonikAfrika
Poetry at it's best is when it approaches ritual.
The lazy artist tries to divorce intellectual activity from artistic creation
Prof Willie Kgositsile
q&a
Alhaji Papa Susso:
G R I O T by zamantungwa
AfrikaĂs tales, triumphs and failures are etched in our bodies, in our souls. They ooze out of our pores in poetry, art, song, dance, music. They are carved in our mothers' and fathers' wrinkles and calloused hands - untold. They live in our conscious and subconscious memories... Many like to think that our story only began with the 'white explorers'; they like to say that only with the arrival of the written word did we record our story. Of course, so much is a mystery about darkest Afrika, but that is only because she prefers it so.
You see, Afrika sends out her story in a way that is relevant
to her people and so Afrikans sing, dance, make music and art - and she lets them think it's only to cope with our miseries and celebrate our joys. Alhaji Papa Susso, a griot and poet, attended the Poetry Afrika (2006) bringing with him stories older than time.
A griot is the keeper of a peoples story going
as far back as thousands of years. Poetry Potion: Tell us about your name?
to keep his spirit in the family.
Alhaji Pappa Susso: Alhaji means pilgrim,
the father of the son cannot call the
a Muslim man who makes the journey (the
name of his father directly, it is
Hajj) to Mecca, it means you have completed
disrespectful - so my father would call
the five pillars of Islam.
me Pappa.
Pappa:
it
is part of our tradition that when you
And everyone got used to the
name Pappa.
have children one of your sons should be named after their [paternal] grandfather
Now
Poetry Potion: What is a griot?
q&a Alhaji Papa Susso: A griot is an oral
in accompaniment.
historian of West Afrika.
mother.
We come from
She learns from her
the Mandikas, the descendents of the old Mali Empire, centred in Timbuktu (Mali). When the empire died some of them migrated
Poetry Potion: What is the role of a griot?
to Senegal, Gambia, Guinea Bissau and
Alhaji Pappa Susso: A griot composes
Ivory Coast.
commemorative songs and performs at
Griots have a very important
role to play; they are people who we rely
important tribal ceremonies like weddings,
on to keep the history of a people through
naming of the child and rituals.
music.
can come to you and say "I've come to
They play a 21-string instrument,
A griot
the kora, passed down from generation to
sing praises to you."
generation.
a song that praises your family, you are
You have to come from a
And he will create
family of griots and you only marry another
expected to give him something in return
griot.
So, traditionally you learn how
but if you don't he will go and compose
to play from your father or your brother,
insulting songs about you and your family.
it is by heredity.
You can't even take him to court because a griot has the right to say anything
Poetry Potion: Is it only men? Papa Susso:
about anyone.
No, we have female griots
with a different role.
It is the duty
of a male griot to play the instrument
Poetry Potion: Is there still a place for a griot in the 21st century?
and narrate the histories of the people
Alhaji Pappa Susso: Yes, the griot is
while the female griot sings and dances
still strong in my country (Gambia).
Griots like elders, izimbongi, izangoma and izanusi have been in existence since time immemorial - recording our history, speaking out against social ills, celebrating our greatness, carrying our culture and traditions into the future.
In other Afrikan
countries, these people are still held in high esteem while in others if they are demonised and have almost disappeared into the past.
In West Afrika, the Mandika
people (also known as the Mandingo) revere, respect and raise griots.
Alhaji Pappa
Susso has also recorded two albums and continues to tour and perform all over the world.
festivals
Time of the Writer International Writers Festival 19 - 24 March 2007 School Short Story Competition The 10th TIME OF THE WRITER International Writers Festival will be hosted by the Centre for Creative Arts from 19 to 24 March 2007, featuring a diverse selection of writers from South Africa, Africa and the rest of the world. Readings, presentations, discussions and debates will take place each evening at the Elizabeth Sneddon Theatre, University of KwaZulu-Natal, with a wide programme of day activities in and around the city of Durban. A central focus of the festival is to encourage reading and writing, particularly among the youth. Time of the Writer invites learners to begin submitting material for the short story writing competition to be held in conjunction with the festival. Learners are invited to engage creatively with a theme of their choice. Please make your submissions by no later than MONDAY, 19 FEBRUARY. Please note that entries must be fictional stories and not critical essays. A maximum of 5 pages (preferably typed) are to be written in English, Zulu or Afrikaans. Illegible entries will not be considered. Entries may be faxed, hand-delivered or posted. Please allow 2 weeks for mail to reach us. Winners will be awarded a cash prize of R1000 and given complimentary tickets to attend the festival on an evening where they will be handed their prizes. If you are a learner and would like to be involved in this competition submit your stories, together with your school's name, teacher's name and your school telephone number to the Centre for Creative Arts. Entries may be hand delivered to the Centre or faxed to 031 260 3074 or posted to: CENTRE FOR CREATIVE ARTS UNIVERSITY OF KWAZULU-NATAL DURBAN 4041 For more information on the festival or the competition, please contact the Centre for Creative Arts on 031 260 2506 or visit our website: www.cca.ukzn.ac.za
poetic injustice
NIGGER WHAT!? by zamantungwa
So manje nay' indaba...
over a year ago, I came across a book with an interesting title - CAPITALIST NIGGER - and I bought it. I read the book. Finished it. Thought deeply about it. And now, though still unsettled and kind of confused I am certain that if Afrikans are to survive, it is time for a radical change. Capitalist Nigger, written by an Afrikan living in America, aggressively and repetitively declares that Afrikans are consumers; incapable of (or rather lazy at) manufacturing innovation, and that we, solely, are responsible for our own 'backwardness' and poverty... In many ways, I agree entirely with Chika Onyeani (the author) - all the technology I own is made in Japan, China, Taiwan and I don't know of any Afrikan or Afrikan state that can make any of it - let alone invent it. My clothes, shoes, accessories are made in China and Taiwan. The taxis I use to commute are made in Japan or Germany; the cars I have sat in are made in Japan or Germany. The music CDs I listen to (including South Afrikan music): the record companies are mainly white owned, the CD pressing and distribution is white owned. The food I eat... think about it. As brutally stressed in the book, if we Afrikan's are to avoid extinction we need to get over our 'poor'-selves and become Capitalist Niggers. We need to learn from the Europeans and Asians by being determined, ambitious and risk-takers ñ start to own our economy. Own our economy by inventing, making, buying/selling for ourselves - what in Kwanza is expressed as ëCooperative Economicsî. See, this is the gist of Bab'. In Afrikan culture, you do not address an elder by their first or last name but you either attach before their name Bhuti (brother) or Baba (Father) depending on the age group the addressee is part of. Onyeaniís book. You need to
read the book for yourselves because this is not a review. Since reading this book, I have become frighteningly aware of my consumerist ways and of those around me. I am very worried because although I see the problem and can articulate it, I do not have a solution for it. Actually, it is not the solution that is hard to find, itís isibindi Courage - isiZulu! Courage to take on the mammoth task knowing that this turn-around may not be achieved in my lifetime. Approximately 99% of all that I buy goes out of my community directly into the white community - the USA, Europe and 80% of this 90% goes to China, Japan and Taiwan. Ironic how sikhala ngama 'we complain about...' - isiZulu Fong Kong while just about everything is a Fong Kong! For us to do something serious and obvious about this it would mean to be naked, sleep out in the open, not eat or drink
poetic injustice anything, not listen to the radio, not use public transport or any vehicle... Bab' Onyeani even suggests this in his book. See, SA is suffering with staggering numbers of unemployment in the clothing industry, the mines, other manufacturing and services industries. People with serious skills and experience, with degrees and no experience, and with no degree or experience are unemployed - I'm talking abo-darkie Afrikan, 'Coloured', the indigenous folk not umlungu or ibhunu né. I've been thinking that these jobless peoples, particularly the retrenched folk in the clothing and mining industry surely, have enough skill and experience to start their own factories and mines. I'm thinking the peoples from the manufacturing industries can start a revolution to kick out China, Japan and Taiwan made things. Is this impossible? Ridiculous? Easy? We have people going around claiming how Afrikans invented this, that or the other. Allegedly there is so much that we have invented that has been stolen from us - the light bulb, rap, rock, jazz, the internet. So much for our inventions, we can't lay claim to the development and the ownership thereof. Ok, so maybe we need to start talking about ownership how does the best-selling musician start to own the music industry from studio to CD duplication? How does the fastest athletic start owning the sport industry from sports clothing to training facilities? How do the filmmakers start to own the film industry from broadcasting to the video stores?
You see this battle is huge! And Afrika is struggling to get involved.
But where can you start, you may be asking? Start by patronising Afrika wherever you can - in fact, make it a point of finding out who owns the business where you spend your money. Continue to use the taxi, as it is a black-owned industry. In business, look for Black Suppliers. Eat at black-owned food outlets. Wear black designers. The bigger things like technology and sciences are going to take longer ñ it means people being steered toward science and maths, being told the truth about what they can do with these subjects. It means young artists learning the business of art and working towards owning and controlling their intellectual property. It means children learning the business of money while still young - how to balance the consumer with the producer, owner and controller. This, however, is a two-way so even our Black business men and women out there need to come to the party. Make your product available to udarkie; treat your Afrikan customers as you treat you white customers. Ever been served by an Afrikan waiter or cashier (or had an encounter with a security guard) with a bad attitude and the minute a white customers brother or sister switches on the charm? Then you know what I'm talking about. Strive to be accessible to your Black brothers and sisters instead of turning them into coons the way some so-called black products are advertised to their market. It wouldn't hurt a bit to drop the prices some - there are so many Afrikans you will not miss the 'niche'. But do not drop the standard, that's exactly what makes us think 'if it's got a name I canít pronounce and it's expensive then itís good'. Just imagine how much more we would all be enriched, without being in debt or giving in to being BEE tokens. Think about it. Improve on it. Discuss it with others. Try it.
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