Kistrech International Poetry Festival, Kisii, Kenya,
Visiting Lake Victoria and the Tabaka Soapstone Mines
Day 3, Saturday, August 2nd, 2014.
Visit to Lake Victoria
| Lake Victoria, Kenya |
| Ogari Ombuki George |
Today we
explore more of Kenya’s culture and lifestyle. It is the perfect balance to the
seriousness of reading and esoteric discussion of poetry and song. We will
spend the latter part of the morning and early afternoon under the guidance of
Ogari Ombuki George, a lecturer at Kisii University. He will share his knowledge
of Lake Victoria and the Tabaka Soapstone Factory with us.
While we wait
for students and poets to board the large bus that has been offered by Kisii
University, we are presented with a surprise.
The awaited Kistrech Poetry Festival 2014
Anthology is distributed by Kenyan poet, Amos Marcel Nyongesa Tabalia.
He had been in Nairobi seeing to anthology’s successful production. We
excitedly browse the fresh off the press book, then, examine its content
thoroughly.
![]() |
| Kenyan poet, Amos Marcel Nyongesa Tabalia. |
Amos’s absence
from the Poetry Festival is now clear. He has been unable to share his work
with us because of his pre-occupation with the anthology. Here are excerpts from
poems he had no time to present.
The Dreamers
On a couch,
pen in hand,
paper on lap,
she weaves her dream.
Her brain,
her loom,
as she dreams of a new future,
myriads of her mind
recorded on paper.
| Kenyan poet, Amos Marcel Nyongesa Tabalia. |
Night
Commander
Knight of the night,
lightning speed,
traveler of darkness,
ruler of iniquity,
Am the soldier
cursed to traverse
lands of the night.
I shatter records,
speeds that I travel,
I ply ridges and bridges,
the trade of my ancestors,
a spirit that is my blood.
They call me night runner,
the commander of the night.
Upon arrival,
some poets, the Vikings among us, and students immediately decide they would
take a boat ride on the lake.
Knowing that I can't swim, I am not willing to take a chance on such a tiny boat. A cruise liner would be more to my liking.
After some riders are fitted with safety vests, the boat takes off and slowly disappear into the
horizon of the wide lake.
I, the non-swimmer, admire the bravery of my friends, and I am a bit jealous that I can't join this special experience.
At the end of
the wharf, facing the lake, stands one of Kenya’s unusual hotels. As we walk
along the wharf towards the fishing village, we leave the unintended landmark
behind.
As I leave the
wharf with Christopher Okemwa, the festival organizer, and his family, I take
photos of them. We will spend a wonderul afternoon getting to know each other on a more personal level.
Those not taking a boat ride walk around the
fish market and take photos of the surroundings.
There is a lot to see and take in and having this opportunity to do so is very exciting.
Christopher Okemwa, myself, Miariam Mpaata Mellony (Ugandan poet) and Michael
Obediah Smith (Bahamian poet) decide to sample the local fish dish.
We are in the
Luo part of Kenya and fish is their staple food. We pass women cleaning
fish. They are surrounded by storks waiting for scraps to eat.
The storks appear
to be everywhere we turn, even on treetops getting a good view of where the
goodies are.
Before we
settle down to eat, we are led to a pipe-stand to wash our hands with soap
water.
Being in Luo
territory, most of us order
the traditional Luo dish. It consists of tilapia
(fried fish) which comes with ugali and salad (sliced tomatoes sprinkled with
parsley). Others order boiled fish with ugali.
The meal cost
only 3.00 shillings (less than $3.00). I am able to treat a few people to a
fish meal. We drink bottled water as the establishment had no beer on offer.
The name of
the shop, Mama Brian Hotel, is discussed as we have seen several small
establishments with word “hotel” on their signs. One of the standouts for me
was “Butchery and Hotel”.
As we wait for our fellow sea-farer poets to
return, more storks swarm the lake side scavenging for leftover fish bits.
There are smaller birds too.
While women sell or scale fish, some fishermen prepare boats for sailing and others repair or built boats on the shore.
While women sell or scale fish, some fishermen prepare boats for sailing and others repair or built boats on the shore.
Our
Scandinavian bards and students return after one hour. They tell us they had stopped on a little
island and some had gone swimming. The sun’s heat had already dried their wet
clothing. Almost everyone’s face is red or darker from the short baking.
They, too,
decide that they would have a fish treat and we hang around and take more
photos while they eat.
Group, pairs and individual photos are taken before we leave for the Tabaka Soapstone Mines.
And then it is time to say goodbye to this beautiful fishing village which will be forever with me.
Feasting on the Pulse of Lake Victoria, Kenya
(With poets
and students from the Kistrech Poetry Festival, Kenya)
The bus we
arrive in at the shore
is a giant
python unloading its eggs.
Eager to
embrace the new scene
we push out of
its metal bowels,
make a quick
exit.
Before us Lake
Victoria spreads
grey-blue
against an endless horizon.
Some are
quickly drawn to a long boat
at the pier
and soon become its passengers
and disappear
in the lake’s vastness.
We walk around
the shore,
capture scenes
we may never see again,
capture the
life-rhythm of the Luo
on a continent
we might not visit again.
Small boats
linger at the shore
where
impatient storks totter
on long
spindly legs and wait
for women
scaling and gutting fish
to toss
unwanted entrails and gills.
Other storks,
tired of waiting
or full of
catch, perch
like Christmas
stars
atop tall
trees towering
above Mama Brian Hotel
where us poets
and friends
yearn to feast
on tilapia.
This is Lou
country and we
must partake
of this fish eating tradition.
We can tell
President Obama
we have gorged
on the food of his ancestors.
At a
standpipe,
everyone soaps
and
washes their
hands.
There are no
knives and forks
to hinder the
joy of eating.
Gathered
around a long table,
we sit in
plastic chairs and dig into
fried and
boiled fish and tomato salad.
Chunky slices
of ugali sit
like mountains
on plates.
We break off
pieces and
dip them in
fish sauce,
feel the
mashed ugali
glide over our
tongues
and down our
throats.
Friendship and
memories
are cemented
as we relax
into easy mood
during this
communal meal.
The spicy fish
is soon eaten and
we make way
for new customers
waiting to
have a meal.
Exploring
further, we pass time and
wait for the
lake to return our comrades.
They, too,
must partake of the fish treat,
cannot leave
the lake without this rite of passage.
The giant
python sleeps by the roadside
white against
clay-colored earth.
© Althea
Romeo-Mark 10.08.2014
*Talapia-popular
fish of the Lake Victoria region
*ugali – cooked
maize, white corn meal
*Luo- The Luo (also called Joluo,
singular Jaluo) are an ethnic group in western Kenya,
eastern Uganda, and in Mara Region in northern Tanzania. They
are part of a larger group of ethnolinguistically related Luo peoples who inhabit an area ranging from Southern Sudan (South Sudan), South-Western Ethiopia, Northern and Eastern
Uganda, South-Western Kenya and North-Eastern Tanzania.The Luo are the third
largest ethnic group (13%) in Kenya, after the Kikuyu (22%) and the Luhya
Tabaka Soapstone Mines
Our final sampling of Kisii life takes place after our
visit to Lake Victoria. We leave Luo land where people are very proud to share
in the success of US President, Barrack Obama and head back to Kisii Town. On
the way, we stop at the Tabaka Soapstone Mines. We get to see how Kisii locals
contribute in another way to Kisii and Kenya’s economy.
We first visit tourist shops where various objects
made of soap stone are on offer. There are quite a few shops to visit but I
enter the first one because it is a woman who is selling. I feel the need to
support her and her family. I am finally able to contribute to the Kissi
economy by buying elephant, rhino and head carvings, souvenirs, which will be
gifted to family and friends. I also buy a present for one of the students.
Soap stones carvings are quite heavy so I have limited myself to small objects.
Soap stones carvings are quite heavy so I have limited myself to small objects.
After that, we
leave for the workshop where we witness the varying processes which soapstone
figurines and sculptors must pass through. Special utensils are used for
carving.
The process is explained to our guide who then translates it to us.
We watch
women, who sit on grass under a tree, paint the carvings in colorful pinks and
blues and red. When the final painting is done, figurines are placed on shelves
in the factory in preparation for distribution to tourists’ shops.
Imperfect
figures that have been discarded becomes prized take-away presents for students
who cannot afford to buy them from gift shops.
We take a final group photo of poets and students before boarding the bus to depart to Kisii City center where our hotel is located.
| Althea Romeo-Mark and Bahamian poet, Michael O Smith |
Our return
trip is slightly delayed as one poet has gone “awol” but he soon catches up
with the bus as he arrives on a motorbike and is accompanied by a soapstone
carver who had promised him a carving tool as a going away present.
Back at Dados Hotel
Returning to
Dados Hotel, we rest before we have supper. It is followed by our last
presentations and readings by young student poets.
Finally we have a discussion about the strengths and shortcomings of 2nd Kistrech International Poetry Festival.
We discuss its growing pains—the biggest challenge being solid funding.
We discuss ways of making the festival more appealing to guest poets and propose adding a poetry workshop to the 2015 agenda.
It is the
dream of the organizer to be able to pay everyone’s flight and hotel fees and
to have the festival’s journal completely subsidized.
It is the goal
of the organizers to get more local, national and international support for the
festival.
All Good Things Must Come
to an End
I come away
with some interesting food for thought and comments made during our question
and answer periods in response to a particular poem or a presentation.
“Who buries
the dead when the families are dead?”
Jenny Maria
Tunedal.
“Make way for
progress before it deletes you from a file called life.” Aggrey Omboki Monayo
“See me, see
wahala, which kin wahala. De baby come de hala”
A sing and response line from a performance poem in Pidgeon English,
From a poem about a man who commits suicide and is reborn to the same situation
that made him unhappy.
Prof.
Animasuan Kayode Adebanji.
“Writing
myself back together,” after life’s disappointments. Michael Obediah Smith
“The poet sees
poetry as a nation.”
Michael
Obediah Smith.
“Poetry is
getting there; it is being on the way. It is telling a story that is always
incomplete. One must find the right words to complete the journey.”
“Place a poem
in the world and someone will find it.”
“A pen is a
poet’s companion and gives a new meaning to the expression, pen pal.”
“When is a
song a poem? Oral poetry was sung, so one is linked to the other. Poems, songs
and oral poetry have rhythm and repetition. What is it that makes each one
distinct from the other?”
Tomorrow is our final day in Kisii. We will carry its memory with us like
precious water in a demijohn.







Althea...I totally enjoyed this journey..the pictures and the narrative were well synced and I am so wish I can have a similar opportunity. The poetry is reflective. Thank you for sharing.
ReplyDeleteGreat work Althea.
ReplyDelete