{"id":1802,"date":"2020-04-14T15:21:38","date_gmt":"2020-04-14T15:21:38","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.iwabogdani.org\/?p=1802"},"modified":"2023-12-21T13:20:16","modified_gmt":"2023-12-21T13:20:16","slug":"christopher-okemwa-kenya","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.iwabogdani.org\/sq\/christopher-okemwa-kenya\/","title":{"rendered":"Christopher Okemwa, Kenya"},"content":{"rendered":"

Christopher <\/span>Okemwa, Kenya<\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n

Christopher <\/span><\/span>Okemwa<\/span><\/span> is a lecturer of Literature at <\/span><\/span>Kisii<\/span><\/span>University, Kenya. He is the founder and director of <\/span><\/span>Kistrech<\/span><\/span> International Poetry Festival in Kenya.\u00a0<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

His poetry collections include <\/span><\/span>The Gong<\/span><\/span> (<\/span><\/span>Nsemia<\/span><\/span> Inc., 2010), <\/span><\/span>Purgatorius<\/span><\/span> Ignis<\/span><\/span> (<\/span><\/span>Nsemia<\/span><\/span> Inc., 2016), <\/span><\/span>Ominous Clouds<\/span><\/span> (Translated to Norwegian, Finnish & Greek; <\/span><\/span>Nsemia<\/span><\/span> Inc., 2018); <\/span><\/span>The Pieta<\/span><\/span> (T<\/span><\/span>rans<\/span><\/span>lated<\/span><\/span> to Armenian<\/span><\/span>\u054a\u053b\u0535\u054f\u0531<\/span>; <\/span>Narcis<\/span><\/span>, 2019), and <\/span><\/span>A Withering Rose <\/span><\/span>(Trans<\/span><\/span>lated<\/span><\/span>to Polish and <\/span><\/span>Bohemian<\/span><\/span> Vadnouc\u00ed<\/span><\/span> r\u016f\u017ee<\/span><\/span>; <\/span><\/span>2019<\/span><\/span>).<\/span> He has also published a short story collection, <\/span><\/span>Chubot<\/span><\/span>, the Cursed One and Other Stories<\/span><\/span> (<\/span><\/span>Nsemia<\/span><\/span> Inc., 2011). He has published three children\u2019s books<\/span><\/span>:<\/span><\/span> The Visitor at the <\/span><\/span>Gate,<\/span><\/span>Let us Keep Tiger<\/span><\/span> and <\/span><\/span>The Village Queen<\/span><\/span> (<\/span><\/span>Paulines<\/span><\/span> Africa, 2010, 2011, 2013). This is in addition to four oral literature texts, <\/span><\/span>Riddles of the <\/span><\/span>Abagusii<\/span><\/span> People of Kenya: Gems of Wisdom from the African Continent<\/span><\/span> (<\/span><\/span>Nsemia<\/span><\/span> Inc., 2011), <\/span><\/span>The Proverbs of the <\/span><\/span>Abagusii<\/span><\/span> of Kenya: Meaning & Application<\/span><\/span> (<\/span><\/span>Nsemia<\/span><\/span> Inc., 2012) <\/span><\/span>Otenyo<\/span><\/span> the Great Warrior of the <\/span><\/span>Abagusii<\/span><\/span> People of Kenya<\/span><\/span> (<\/span><\/span>Nsemia<\/span><\/span> Inc., 2016) and <\/span><\/span>The Oral Poetry of the <\/span><\/span>Abagusii<\/span><\/span> People of Kenya<\/span><\/span> (<\/span><\/span>Nsemia<\/span><\/span>Inc., 20<\/span><\/span>20<\/span><\/span>). He has also written five folktales of the <\/span><\/span>Abagusii<\/span><\/span> peopl<\/span><\/span>e of Kenya in <\/span><\/span>Ekegusii<\/span><\/span> language:<\/span><\/span> Ogasusu<\/span><\/span>na<\/span><\/span> Oganchogu<\/span><\/span> (The Hare and the Elephant)<\/span><\/span>, <\/span><\/span>Ogasusu<\/span><\/span> na<\/span><\/span>Okanyambu<\/span><\/span> (The Hare and the Chameleon),<\/span><\/span> Ogasusu<\/span><\/span> na<\/span><\/span>Okanyang\u2019au<\/span><\/span> (The Hare and the Hyena)<\/span><\/span>, <\/span><\/span>Okang\u2019ombe<\/span><\/span>Okanyang\u2019au<\/span><\/span> na<\/span><\/span> Ogakondo<\/span><\/span> (The <\/span><\/span>Cow, the Hyena & the Monkey), and <\/span><\/span>Kerangeti<\/span><\/span> na<\/span><\/span> Kerantina<\/span><\/span> (<\/span><\/span>Kerangeti<\/span><\/span> & <\/span><\/span>Kerantina<\/span><\/span>). <\/span><\/span>Okemwa\u2019s<\/span><\/span> novella, <\/span><\/span>Sabina and the Mystery of the Ogre,<\/span><\/span> won 2015 Canadian Burt Award for African Literature (Kenya). Its sequel, <\/span><\/span>Sabina the Rain Girl <\/span><\/span>(<\/span><\/span>Nsemia<\/span><\/span> Inc., 2019) was published in 2019.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

Okemwa<\/span><\/span> participated at a poetry workshop in Northern Ireland that was sponsored by Poets\u2019 House; <\/span><\/span>participated at the 20<\/span><\/span>th<\/span><\/span> International Poetry Festival in Medellin (Colombia) <\/span><\/span>in 2010 <\/span><\/span>sponsored by Prince Claus Fund<\/span><\/span>; <\/span><\/span>was a guest poet at the 27<\/span><\/span>th<\/span><\/span> Biennale Poetry Festival in Liege<\/span><\/span>(<\/span><\/span>Belgium)<\/span><\/span> in 2012<\/span><\/span>;<\/span><\/span> was again a guest-poet in the 3<\/span><\/span>rd<\/span><\/span>Spring and Poetry Festival in Istanbul (Turkey)<\/span><\/span> in 2018<\/span><\/span>; <\/span><\/span>was a visiting poet at the <\/span><\/span>International Poetry Festival of Hanoi (Vietnam)<\/span><\/span> in 2019<\/span><\/span>;<\/span><\/span> and was a creative writing resident at Faber Writers\u2019 Resid<\/span><\/span>ency in Catalonia (Spain)<\/span><\/span>in 2019<\/span><\/span><\/a> — a residency that<\/span><\/span> gave birth to <\/span><\/span>the<\/span><\/span> collection of poems<\/span><\/span>, <\/span><\/span>Love from Afro Catalonia<\/span><\/span>.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

Okemwa<\/span><\/span> earned his PhD degree in Literature from <\/span><\/span>Moi<\/span><\/span>University, Kenya, with a dissertation titled \u201cA Study of the <\/span><\/span>Kwani<\/span><\/span>?<\/span><\/span> Open <\/span><\/span>Mic<\/span><\/span> \u2018Literary-Gangsta\u2019 Performance Poetry of Kenya.\u201d He also holds an MA and a Bachelor of Education degree in literature from the University <\/span><\/span>of<\/span><\/span>Nairobi, Kenya.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

This morning<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

This morning I woke up<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

With a sense of loss<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

I found silence holding the four corners of my room<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

And a mystery \u00a0<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

A sort of Muse<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

Playing in the light and in the darkness<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

Between the walls and empty spaces<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

I slipped down from my narrow bed<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

Quickly ransacked my suitcase for your photos<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

I couldn\u2019t find any<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

Scrawled down the screen of my phone<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

With nervous fingers<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

I didn\u2019t see one — my cheeks flashed white<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

Looking at the mirror on the wall<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

A sad curve formed at the corner of my mouth<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

My forehead became pale just like a dull day<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

The evidence of hunger<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

For a loved one back home<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

Now seated at the table<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

I sketch your body on a piece of paper<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

An imagination of the woman that I love<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

An expression within me <\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

Of whom I know you have been to me<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

I pencil your foaming lips, whiten your <\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

Teeth, circles twin hillocks on your chest<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

Dot your deep sensuous navel<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

I repeatedly scratch on the pupils of your eyes<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

Making them dilated, adds more pencil<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

On the cheeks to make them dazzling and bewitching<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

Shades the hair to make it glossy<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

Cleaves your forehead with two wrinkles<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

(You can\u2019t be young forever)<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

Gives a dark shade to your nose<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

A light <\/span><\/span>colour<\/span><\/span> to your chin<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

Then the neck of a swan to stabilize your head<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

I sit back to examine the finished work<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

My body twitches<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

I move my lips down<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

To kiss it<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

Suddenly I hear a loud sigh from a distant<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

A silent longing<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

A lusty act from a lover<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

With the utterance \u201cl miss you, oh my dear love\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u00a0 <\/span><\/span>–<\/span><\/span>By Christopher <\/span><\/span>Okemwa<\/span><\/span> (Selected from<\/span><\/span> Love from Afro-Catalonia, <\/span><\/span>2020)<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

I Love You Not as <\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

I love you not as one can love a bar of chocolate<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

Or a mango juice or a banana fruit or a mushroom<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

Or as one can love roasted groundnuts <\/span><\/span>in a plate<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

I love you as one can love an exotic dream<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

In which the dreamer is in a wedding costume<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

And his bride is fair of face and is in full bloom<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

I love you not as one can love a moon-lit sky<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

Or a tall tree, or a blue sea or a star in the night<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

Or as one can love a grasshopper, a termite or a butterfly <\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

I love you as one can love a red ray of sunlight<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

When the morning, like ripe tomato, bursts in the horizon<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

And the foot-steps of the last night are long gone<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

I love you not as one can love a song of a bird in the nest<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

Or the whizzing of a wind or the buzzing of a bee that flits<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

Or as one can love the whistling of a tree in the forest<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

I love you as one can love the sound of ghosts and spirits <\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

Who live in the waters of the sea or dwells in the <\/span><\/span>cemetery<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

And is heard rising and falling at night in a puzzle of mystery<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

I love you not as one can love the aroma of fresh coffee<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

Or the smell of raw soil or rotten leaves damped in a pit<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

Or as one can love the fragrance of a rose or a lilac tree<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

I love you as one can love the smell of a lover\u2019s armpit<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

The erotic texture and the feel of its bushy hair<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

The moist and its rivulets of sweat when she is bare<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

I love you not as one can love a genius work of art <\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

Or a sight of a magnificent city sprawled in the sun<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

Or as one can love a new pair of shoes, shorts or shirt<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

I love you as one can love an old tattered photo<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

In which one is a child playing in a puddle of mud<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

With an aura of innocence, honesty and Godliness<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

–<\/span><\/span>By Christopher <\/span><\/span>Okemwa<\/span><\/span> (Selected from<\/span><\/span> Love from Afro-Catalonia, <\/span><\/span>2020)<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

Purgatorius<\/span><\/span> Ignis<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

Hanging in this burning emptiness of retribution, between<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

Death and the final dwelling–in this condition of existence– <\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

I move stealthily like a cat, perpetually on the balls of his <\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

Feet; with the cat\u2019s impression, indifferent aloofness, <\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

My face drooped; in my eyes no light at all. I cry, <\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0\u201cI want affliction and fire!\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

The soiled hamlet from whence I have come, voices rise<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

To cry for the pain and torture that my soul bore here <\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

Aware that my spirit is not fully independent of the stains of \u00a0<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

Mundane effects of wrong-doing, its consequences; neither \u00a0<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

Sufficiently evil to be fated for abyss; but keeps on strengthening <\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 Itself in sanctity here<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

Having no purifications–neither sacrament of baptism, nor <\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

of<\/span><\/span> penance–my venial sins weigh heavy on my soul<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

I cry for pain, fire, to suffer for the rewards of the divine abode–<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

A Garden of delights.<\/span><\/span> I ask to be relieved of my <\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

Earthly baggage; for the pain of joy to be completed, to feel \u00a0<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

blissful<\/span><\/span> mystery of Him<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

I find myself in that condition of mind and feelings<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

When reality gives place to reverie and merges with<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

The shadowy visions of the first stages of <\/span><\/span>purgatories <\/span><\/span>ignis<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

I\u2019ve carried, on clammy hands, venial sins, to be purged <\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

Of them, being only momentary pain, then soon be on my <\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0Way to Olympus<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

Here it comes, like a clap of thunder, or like a magic spell<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

Light one moment and darkness the next\u2014a big fire! <\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

Burning brightly, spreading everywhere. I scream, \u201c<\/span><\/span>burn<\/span><\/span>me!\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

I hear those assembled in the hamlet from whence I have<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

Come, singing, raising their sacrifices up for my sake–<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

To <\/span><\/span>be<\/span><\/span> purified<\/span><\/span>.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 <\/span><\/span>-By Christopher <\/span><\/span>Okemwa<\/span><\/span> (Selected from <\/span><\/span>Purgatorius<\/span><\/span> Ignis<\/span><\/span>, <\/span><\/span>Nsemia<\/span><\/span> Inc. Publishers, 20<\/span><\/span>16<\/span><\/span>)<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

Tufts of the Tall Grass<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

I have always wanted to know<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

Where the Maker<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

Of air and soil lives<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

Erecting those pillars high up<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

To hold the firmament in place; in pain<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

Sobbing Himself out so that we may have rain.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

I look up to the sky where<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

A thick pile of clouds hangs<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

The blue only glare<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

Giving little clue.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

I walk down to the riverbank.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

Fagged out by many centuries<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

Of creation work, He would be there <\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

Washing the cake of dust<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

Off His body; the plashes and purls play on<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

Monotonously, the brown waves<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

Swirl and churn up<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

But I don\u2019t sight a torso, a toe<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

Of a man swimming to the shore.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

In a splendid fury<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

I walk through the mystery of the night<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

So as to bump into Him, vexed<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

He will retort;<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

My figure, spectral in a wash<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

Of moonlight, sight a tall black shadow<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

Spring forward<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

Not of the Maker<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

Not of an angel<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

But of a desperate mortal in search of truth.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

I stop abruptly to listen<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

To the wind\u2019s soft song, picking<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

Out its notes carefully, one at a time<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

Feeling the inflection and the varying texture of its tempo<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

And suddenly\u2014oyez! His voice<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

Awesome, yet soothing and caring<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

Emerge slowly, eerily<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

Out of the dark green tufts<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

Of the <\/span><\/span>tall<\/span><\/span> grass<\/span><\/span>.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 <\/span><\/span>-By Christopher <\/span><\/span>Okemwa<\/span><\/span> (Selected from <\/span><\/span>Purgatorius<\/span><\/span> Ignis<\/span><\/span>, <\/span><\/span>Nsemia<\/span><\/span> Inc. Publishers, 20<\/span><\/span>16<\/span><\/span>)<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

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Christopher Okemwa, Kenya Christopher Okemwa is a lecturer of Literature at KisiiUniversity, Kenya. He is the founder and director of Kistrech International Poetry Festival in Kenya.\u00a0 His poetry collections include The Gong (Nsemia Inc., 2010), Purgatorius Ignis (Nsemia Inc., 2016), Ominous Clouds (Translated to Norwegian, Finnish & Greek; Nsemia Inc., 2018); The Pieta (Translated to […]<\/p>","protected":false},"author":4,"featured_media":3821,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_exactmetrics_skip_tracking":false,"_exactmetrics_sitenote_active":false,"_exactmetrics_sitenote_note":"","_exactmetrics_sitenote_category":0,"footnotes":""},"categories":[171],"tags":[],"book_author":[],"book_publisher":[],"acf":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.iwabogdani.org\/sq\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1802"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.iwabogdani.org\/sq\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.iwabogdani.org\/sq\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.iwabogdani.org\/sq\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/4"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.iwabogdani.org\/sq\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1802"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/www.iwabogdani.org\/sq\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1802\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":3820,"href":"https:\/\/www.iwabogdani.org\/sq\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1802\/revisions\/3820"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.iwabogdani.org\/sq\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/3821"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.iwabogdani.org\/sq\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1802"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.iwabogdani.org\/sq\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1802"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.iwabogdani.org\/sq\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1802"},{"taxonomy":"book_author","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.iwabogdani.org\/sq\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/book_author?post=1802"},{"taxonomy":"book_publisher","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.iwabogdani.org\/sq\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/book_publisher?post=1802"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}