Artist: Chumba
Label: SoundAfrica
Year: 2008

How it got on my CD rack
Apparently I'm talking about this album released six years after it was released by Doris Chepchumba Tanui, aka Chumba. It just got to my CD rack two years ago. And that's an interesting story. 

I was sitting in a restaurant in Nairobi and heard this wonderful, soulful song. I suspect it was "Ongerip emet nyo," because it's my favorite. So I asked the waitress to find out who was singing. The first thing she asked was if I was the same tribe. Goes to show - we're so tribalist that even music isn't a human, universal language in Kenya. Would the waitress have asked the same if Beyonce was the artist?

What I like about the album
This is a truly Kenyan and African sound. The songs are in several Kenyan and international languages, including Kiswahili, Kalenjin, Kirundi, Luhya (her words, not mine), Lingala, Taita, Pokomo, English and French. Also, I was quite pleased to know that Chumba has roots in Maroon Commandos, and it shows in the quality of the sound and the songs. The guitar solos are extraordinary, reminding me what I loved about Maroon Commandos when I was younger.

Like I said, "Ongerip emet nyo" is my favorite song. I always go for the mellow, and this one is nice, with good guitar work and pleasant wind instruments. And that goes for most of the songs - the winds (flute, sax) and the guitar work in most songs takes me back to the good old days of listening to the singing Kenyan soldiers.

The themes are also great. There's a good dose of love songs, but I think the most fun to listen to is "Unakumbuka," sang by a woman whose husband has fallen on good times and then abandoned the family that stood with him through the tough times. This CD is a 12-track treat.

What I don't like about the album
The sleeve of the album has editing mistakes that should have been sifted out. For instance, the sequence of the explanation of the songs does not match the sequence of the songs on the CD.  And the sequence matters for listeners who do not speak the languages. Also, the gap between each of the tracks is too short, so the songs almost flow into each other without a break. Readers not used to the genre and style of rumba may find the songs long, although the good thing is that the instrumentals are quite good.

I look forward to listening to Chumba's other albums, if only I could find them. She's difficult to locate on the world wide web. But she was one of the Kenyan artists featured at the recently concluded Smithsonian Folk Life Festival.

Author: Henry Ole Kulet
Publisher: Longhorn

One of my favorite scholars, Lani Guinier, uses the miner’s canary as a symbol of the link between the fate of the most vulnerable amongst us and the rest of the society. When miners were underground, it was difficult for them to tell if air was getting too toxic to breath, until it was too late. So they would go into the mines with the bird, and when it started to show signs of distress, the miners would know that they should exit the mine as quickly as possible.
Just like the canary, the herds – of wildebeest, elephants, rhinos, hippos or cattle – in Henry Ole Kulet’s latest novel Vanishing Herds, remind us of the danger posed by our destruction of the environment. Trust me to begin by saying that the novel is a love story of Norpisia and Kedoki, a newly wed pastoralist couple trekking across the country to Kedoki’s home village in Nkararo. Kedoki wants to take his wife to settle in his home village where he has not been for years. The two had been brought together by a trauma during their childhood when they both lost siblings to cattle rustlers. Although the marriage seems to be arranged, the relationship blossoms into love as Norpisia accepts to go with her husband to her new home.

The trek turns out to be hazardous. The couple encounters raiders who seriously injure Kedoki, and the wild animals have become unusually hostile and “angry” towards human beings, due to the destruction of the environment. Human beings have ravaged trees, including the sacred Medungi forest whose entry was forbidden by the elders. When the herds were not angry, they simply were not there, a sign to the human group and its livestock that pasture was difficult to come by or that rivers were about to burst their banks.

What I found beautiful about the narrative is the way myth and science complement each other. For Norpisia, her dreams and her apprenticeship under a prophetess/medicine woman enable her to sense when Mother Nature is not happy with humanity. There are scientific reasons for the drought, dried up rivers and floods, but the mythical terms add the sense of immorality and taboo to what we people do to other members of our universe that do not speak. For example, the laibon decreed that if a tree was cut in Medungi forest, the “blood of the felled trees would flow into the rivers, turn them red and poison man and beast.” The power of such instruction causes Kedoki and his friends to take a detour around the forest.

The communal spirit is another wonderful motif of the book, with Masintet and Lembarta – friends of Kedoki – joining to help with the herd, and Kedoki keeping his honor by paying the two men with cattle and heifers. Norpisia leads in reafforestation efforts thanks to the strong bonds with the Eorr-Narasha community where she, Kedoki and their son stop over in their journey to Nkararo. The book is also rich in Maasai knowledge of plant species, their medicinal qualities and the cycles of life in this lovely world that God created. Ole Kulet has beautifully depicted the unsung heroism of pastoralist communities who are responsible for the sparing what remains of Kenya’s natural habitat today.

There was a debate in our book club discussion in May 2013 about the gender roles in the book. Norpisia seems to be a superwoman, knowing all and defeating all, while Kedoki bears the brunt of the wrath of Mother Nature and of bandits. I was uncomfortable about judging Kedoki as emasculated, given that in many communities women actually do more work than they are given credit for. I still haven’t made up my mind on that question.

Until then, I highly recommend Vanishing Herds. The book is beautiful to read. But it is also a warning that Kenyans must watch out for the welfare of the non-speaking members of our universe – the rivers, the forests, the plains, and the wild and domestic animals. Like the canary, the suffering of the non-speaking members of our universe is a warning of imminent danger to us human beings as well.

Author: Eva Kasaya

Tale of Kasaya is a story that affirms humanity as the corner stone of dignity. It is an easy-to-read and exciting narrative by Eva Kasaya about her experiences as a house girl in Nairobi.

The story begins from Kasaya's early childhood on a coffee plantation in Thika, and chronicles her family's hardships that led her to drop out of school and make the daring journey to Nairobi to work as a house girl. After different harrowing experiences in different homes in Nairobi, she eventually lands a job in a home where she is treated like a human being and eventually transitions to a career in tailoring.

​Tale of Kasaya is a mirror held up to Kenya in many ways. For me, the most striking element was how, in this age where devolution is the buzz word, oppression, exploitation and high handedness are devolved to the homes. In the private spaces from Kibera to Kileleshwa, fellow Kenyans treat others with little dignity, and worst of all, this treatment comes from the hands of women.  Kasaya is harassed, made to work long hours without pay, and patronized by members of the very group that suffers such oppression as a block that produces over 80% of the country's wealth but owns only a little over  1% of it. The story is a reminder that democracy and freedom must resonate not only in the corridors of political power but also in the privacy of our own homes.

The other interesting element for me was the power of dreams and of dignity. Kasaya was driven by a dream of opportunity to make the life of herself and her family better, and that opportunity was represented by Nairobi. Nairobi initially failed to deliver that promise but eventually came through for Kasaya.  Kasaya’s drive to find opportunity proves that the measure of a country’s freedom should be the extent to which the country provides its citizens with the opportunity to live a dignified life.

Tale of Kasaya can also be described as a panorama of Nairobi in words, although one that is often interrupted by typographical errors and awkward expressions. We first get an outsider’s view of the city from the perspective of the Kerongo villagers who are told exaggerated tales of cultural artifacts such as TV soap operas and Kanda Bongoman dance moves. Through Kasaya’s narrative, we get an experience of the train and main public transport stages, then the poverty and terrible living conditions in the slums and then the comfort of the more affluent areas of Nairobi. The contrasts in the landscape are also in the people, from the homes of people like Nancy in the slums, of oppressive (and frankly psycho) characters like Mama Jacky, to the humane couple who give Kasaya a new perspective of life. When the city of Nairobi celebrates its history, I hope it will encourage the reading of this book as a cultural landmark.

As the central character, Kasaya represents the strength of dignity and the human spirit. Under each employer, she strives to work the best she can, and does not carry the bitterness from one home to the next. Finally, Kasaya defies the cynical love of money to which many Kenyans succumb. Her wish is simple: to be treated as a human being, to have a decent job and to help her family. But the ultimate affirmation of her humanity comes from the very fact of writing her story. Before she starts writing, she says, her life appeared fragmented, with each episode forgotten as soon as the new one begins. Some parts of her life even “seemed as though [they] had never happened” and even her success was not hers; rather, it “was pegged to what the villagers said about me.” By writing, therefore, Kasaya affirms that despite her humble origins, her life is an important part of the Kenyan narrative.

Artist: Suzanna Owiyo
Label: Kirkelig Kulturverksted 
Year: 2010

How it got on my rack
I kept promising myself that I'd buy Suzanna Owiyo's album but the opportunity presented itself when she visited Daystar. So I have an autographed copy!

What I like about the album
This is a truly Kenyan album. The songs are rooted in the past, they have different cultural flavors. I mean, what could be more Kenyan than a Luo singing in song in Kikuyu with a chakacha beat? The instruments are fabulous. I love the nyatiti and the orutu in the songs, but the guitar is also something to write home about.

The themes are also varied, soulful and socially conscious, revealing a singer who has a finger on the pulse of society. My best line is in "Dhano le" decrying sexual abuse of children: "A man must be strong for a woman and child to be safe."

The bonus track, "Matatu," featuring Jua Cali was a pleasant surprise, revealing Suzanna's versatility as a musician.

My favorite song
My favorite song keeps changing. I do love "Osiepna" with Ogoya Nengo's wonderful voice, although I wished we heard more of her in the song. I also like "Usife moyo" which should be a jazz classic. The guitar work is superb and the message is wonderful. It is a song of love and care. But "Abiro" hits the spot. It's mellow and beautiful. The sound matches the theme of a prodigal daughter returning home. I also like "Ayango" for the simple fact that it encourages girls to go to school. I must mention Jamer - a song warning against alcoholism and which has a wonderful duet between Suzanna and the orutu at the end of the song.

Author: Chris Lyimo
Published by: Story Moja
Year: 2011
Price: around Kshs 800

This is probably more of a reflection and discussion than a review of Chris Lyimo’s very engaging narrative about his struggles with, and triumphs over alcohol addiction. The book raised too many questions in my mind for me to limit my reflections to just a review. Especially so, because one of my frustrations with the book was that it restricted Lyimo’s experience to the individual, yet its content presents an indictment of modern Kenyan society which, despite all the money it has, has been unable (or is it unwilling?) to answer fundamental questions of what it means to be an African human being in this second millennium of our Lord. 

Artist:  Adawnage

How it got on my rack
Probably for the wrong reasons: I decided to buy a copy when I heard "Uwezo" on one Sunday morning when I was watching TV instead of going to church. But I got the final push to actually buy it after I met the producer. 

What I like about the album
It's a fresh, modern Kenyan sound. And I like bands. The songs vary in style, from the soulful "Uwezo" to the rumba "Safari."

My favorite songs
Definitely "Uwezo," like most people. I also enjoy "Safari" (the rumba version) and "Nitumie" that has a salsa flavor.

I'm not sure about
The ending of "Safari"II. Not sure I got it, although I get the point of having a surprise end.

Author: Kinyanjui Kombani

I’m a hopeless romantic, but I missed the gist of Kinyanjui Kombani’s love story until my second read. Maybe it’s because the first time I heard about the book was from an article that suggested the book was a prediction of the election violence of 2007/8, which meant that I was looking for the politics rather than enjoying the story. I hope I’m not going to spoil it for potential readers of the book as well.                       
The Last Villains of Molo follows the lives of five young men, Bone, Bomu, Bafu, Ngeta and Rock, who were brought together by the Molo clashes of 1992. They forge a tight friendship that transcends the ethnic identities for which the people around them are killing each other. Once they move to the city, they live in the Ngando slums and basically live a life of hustling. That’s until a beautiful rich lady called Nancy shows up.

Nancy’s love relationship with Bone is accompanied by a series of dramatic events, until the end when we discover that the painful past in Molo had brought them together. But love and sanity prevail over the hatred that was politically engineered. In previous discussions of the book, readers felt that the end was too idealistic. However, on one occasion when the author visited us, he answered the usual Kenyan question of “what can be done?” by saying that love is the answer. I was skeptical at the time, but later it made sense. It is love that humanizes the five young men when Nancy enters their lives. It is love that stops the cycle of revenge.

The other genius of this book is the use of nicknames which keep the reader away from being conscious of the characters’ ethnic identities. To this day, I’ve not been able to match the real names with the nicknames of the young men. I think I want to keep it that way.