To situate the conception of Qwani, as with all other Literary collectives in Kenya, demands that we understand what Carey Baraka said in his 2019 article, “The Kenyan Literary Hustle.” In a conversation he was having with a fellow Enkare Review founder, the fellow said, “In a few years, a new group of kids will come up and decide that the lit scene in Kenya does not work, and gatekeepers be gatekeeping and that we need new names, and they will start something new.”
That was in 2016. Fast forward to October 2022, and a group of eight 20-year-old kids is seated at the rooftop of an apartment building in Parklands, staring out at the sunset. Vindicating the Enkare Review founder as a clairvoyant, the eight kids whine about how the lit scene in Kenya does not work, how gatekeepers are gatekeeping, and decide that they will start something new.
Having only written in their personal blogs, the kids decide to come together and call out to any other young writer at the time who was struggling to break through into the literary scene. Together, they start a literary collective—Qwani—as homage to Kwani?, the older collective that succeeded in making a significant mark on Kenhttps://www.qwani.co.ke/ya’s literary scene.
Their first product—Qwani 01—was launched on April 1, 2023, and with it, they introduced 37 new writers to the scene. The book was a collection of short stories, poems, essays, art/music/ film reviews, scripts, and even pieces written in Sheng (the local lingo).
In Kwani? fashion, the program of the launch contained poetry readings as well as musical performances from other young artists who had volunteered to perform. It was quite a felicitous moment, attended by an audience of 400 people at the Alliance Française Multimedia Library in the Nairobi Central Business District.
At the end of the day, we thought our work was done. However, two weeks later, several attendees sent positive feedback about the session and asked when the next event would be held. This wasn’t something we had anticipated, but we decided to offer the people what they wanted.
On the last Friday of that month, we hosted an Open Mic at Alliance Française Multimedia Library, inviting interested poets, spoken word artists, and even musicians to showcase their craft. Despite it being a rainy day, at least 200 young people turned up to the event, and we had such awe-inspiring performances. We held another session the following month, and it went equally well. By then, we realized we could, or rather should, build a community around this. In addition to publishing literary works, we added Open Mics to our main ventures. With the Alliance Française Multimedia Library offering us their space, we began hosting events every month.
To begin, we had no thematic limits, and so we attracted all kinds of poets and spoken word artists, especially those just starting out and looking to showcase their work. Just like that, it became a cultural hangout, where artists could meet and share ideas as they listened to one another. The additional benefit was that we did not restrict attendance to artists only; everyone was invited to indulge in the performances. Over time, even the performers grew with regard to their craft, and we began seeing prize-worthy work. Even veteran performers such as Dorphanage and Ngartia began attending our shows, much to our surprise!
Soon enough, we adopted themes for each month’s Open Mic. In June this year we marked the anniversary of the June 2024 protests with a poetry session, “Poetry for Protests.” In this session, the participants performed pieces addressing the state’s poor governance, wanton corruption, as well as police brutality.
Hosted in collaboration with and as the launch event of the Africa Is a Country Festival in Nairobi, this was our most impactful session. In addition to the performances, we organized a panel discussion featuring Oyamo Richard (writer, poet, spoken-word artist, and co-founder of Rafinki), Seise Bagbo (performing artist and educator), Clifton Gachagua (author of Madman at Kilifi and Cartographer of Water), Dorphanage (the 34th Slam Africa champion), and Ngartia (storyteller and co-founder of Too Early for Birds, a theater production that focuses on telling Kenya’s history).
In the panel discussion, the panelists spoke about the role that poetry holds in protests. This came two days before the June 25 protests, and notwithstanding the potential threat that came with hosting a politically-charged event at this time, we went ahead with it. And it definitely invigorated many people in the audience to take to the streets to fight for our country.
The panelists reminded us that art is the simplest yet the most unwavering form of conveying our emotions. Artists play a very crucial role in uniting the people through their messages, as well as communicating the society’s mood. We were reminded of the role that Eric Wainaina’s song Daima played in uniting Kenyans in 2002. Or the role that Kwani?’s anthologies played in documenting stories from the 2007/2008 Post-Election Violence. Or the role that Pawa254 plays in protest exhibitions.
The biggest project we had been working on around the protests was the third issue of our anthology—Qwani 03—which was themed “Maandamano.” For this issue, we had called upon writers, comic artists, and even visual artists to submit pieces focusing on last year’s protests.
The book featured more than 45 pieces, among them essays on how best to organize and mobilize protests, poems relaying the mood of the people, non-fictional pieces narrating individual experiences during the protests, music reviews on songs and albums that defined the protests, a photo gallery of images taken during the protests, and even comic art. The plan was to release it in June this year, during the “Maandamano Anniversary @ 1” celebrations.
However, the security risk posed by this book was very high because the proposed launch date coincided with a period when many abductions were happening. Therefore, we have shelved the book, and hopefully we will release it in the future. It will serve as an archive, informing future generations of the events of June 2024. That, clearly, is the duty of artists.
