Poet finds something to laugh about in land and election chaos

Sitawa Namwalie has been on a fast track ever since she had an epiphany and realised she was a poet with a lot to share.

It was Muthoni Garland, a fellow writer and the publisher of Storymoja, who thereafter inspired her to combine her poetry with performance. Not long after that, Cut Off My Tongue was born, first as an awesome collection of her poems, then as a performance that went all the way from the Nairobi and RaMoMa museums to UK’s Hay Festival.

And since then the former award-winning tennis star has gone from strength to strength, continually writing, experimenting with words and big ideas and then dramatising them in various forms and stage shows, the latest of which she performed last Saturday afternoon at an intimate new arts space, called Scandinavian Vintage Furniture in Kilileshwa.

The Journey So Far, unlike her previous shows, was essentially a solo affair although she shared the space with a flutist and guitarist, Abbi Nyizi and Claus Seest (SVF staff and founder) who occasionally added appropriate sound effects. It was an intimate performance with Sitawa animated and alive to all the expressive implications of her words and ideas.

Like her earlier performances, Sitawa’s poetry blends sassy political satire and subtle sarcasm with searing honesty, penetrating insight and charming humour that belies the seriousness of her vision and potency of her message.

A lot of her poetry has to do with identity, especially as a poet, but also as a Kenyan who somehow speaks for a multitude of fellow citizens when she claims “Land is Kenyans’ addiction” and that the citizens have a fixation on names.

She dares to speak boldly about sensitive topics like ‘tribe’ and the 2007 election and the subsequent post-election violence. But then she also has fun with locals’ fascination with mitumba (second hand clothes) and shopping in popular spots like Toy Market in Kibera.

She clearly had the most fun telling her Toy Market tale. But then her finale piece was the most interactive and engaging as she transformed her audience into her chorus chiming in on cue: “We leave our house to go home” referring of course to urbanised Kenyans’ supposed linkage to the land of our grandmothers and ‘gukas’.

Meanwhile, Sammy Mwangi and Heartstrings Kenya certainly weren’t the first theatre people to understand the tremendous comedic power of a man dressing up as a woman and playing a ‘she’ on stage.

Some might say Tyler Perry’s Madea was first, but that ignores the British tradition of pantomime that has to have a man dressed in ‘drag’ or the show isn’t real panto. And long before that men played women in Shakespeare’s day and of course, Greek theatre rarely had women cast members.

But even if Bilal Wanjau (as Bobby) playing Madam Zarah Farouk in Madam Madam Where are you?, madam isn’t the first guy to get a laugh while wearing a wig and woman’s dress, he’s still hilarious even before he upstages the real Zarah Farouk (Lucy Njoroge) who arrives late on the scene and gets mistaken for a nobody.

The real Auntie Zarah is said to be worth millions (supposedly owner of the Kempinski Hotel) and is coming ‘specially from Dubai to give her impoverished nephew Charlie (Lawrence Murage) his inheritance of Sh20 million.

It’s a complicated story, especially as Charlie’s receipt of the cash is conditional on his being 21 (which he is) and married, which he is not.

But all the details unravel in Heartstrings’ typically hilarious style, interweaving heaps of timely local references that tickle audiences’ funny bone and telling a story that reveals some of the cunning survival tactics that poor people employ just to make do.

There’s Bobby aka Zarah stealthily stealing his buddies’ booze, Charlie budgeting for food for his guests with only pennies in hand and roommates Charlie and Jack tossing a coin to see who gets the room when both have girlfriends they want to entertain.

Madam may not be making a profound political or social statement but it’s pithy, witty and poignant all the same.

It’s also aspirational in that many people dream of winning millions overnight. In that sense, Madam could be said to be escapist, but Heartstrings’ fans don’t really care if it’s not politically correct.

Their shows still mirror so much of the ways ordinary Kenyan urbanites survive, which is why audiences consistently come out in droves and why actors like Wanjau can easily shift from Phoenix Players to Heartstrings without thinking twice about it.