Why local poetry shows remain low value items

On the last Thursday of every month, Gato Mato buzzed with standout fashion choices, shimmering to the light and life of the party.  Dressed to the nines, this motley crew would then sit back and listen to poets who would lyrically seduce the clicks of a photographer’s lens.

Kwivuga Poetry Session, brought to you by Nunu Umuringa Butare, Cedric Babu and Agaba Tumusiime (the emcee), helped poetry crossover from the liberal arts to the performance arts. Ugandan nightlife had never experienced such an event. Its pizzazz and purpose were unmatched. It was so popular that it should have marked a turning point for Ugandan poetry, signalling an inroad to unqualified success. However, this did not happen.

Instead, like the fabled Spanish horse that runs faster than anyone for the first nine lengths and then turns around and runs backwards, Kwivuga died of poetry’s self-inflicted wounds.
True, not many of the smart set that attended Kwivuga were actually there for the poetry. Many people went there to schmooze with the rich and infamous, while scoring drinks and a possible love interest. The poetry was secondary. Still, poetry shows had never had such attendances that numbered in the 500s to 1,000s.

After Kwivuga’s heyday, poetry shows returned to scattered enclaves of varied poetry outfits which boasted many poets, but few poetry audiences. To have great poets, there must be great audiences, American poet Walt Whitman famously said. Yet Ugandan poets have rarely gotten along famously with their audiences.
Why, you ask. Well, there are as many reasons for this as there are Ugandan poets (who count themselves in the thousands). But we shall just look at a hatful. And see whether we can pull a rabbit out of these numbers in order to tilt the balance in favour of poetry’s wider acclaim.

Closed shop
Poets are known to keep to themselves. Unless we are talking about Jay-Z, or Ms Beyoncé Knowles, who once said, “Shakespeare was a man who wrote poetry. I’m a man who writes poetry. Why not compare yourself to the best?”
Generally speaking, though, for centuries, poets have been those lonely spirits in the hills struck by their own mortality, while aspiring to immortality.

In Uganda, the insularity of poets has led to what Ugandan artist-poet Xenson once described as poets speaking to themselves at poetry events.
It is because of this detachment from the hordes of potential poetry lovers that poetry shows remain small, intimate affairs.

Poets as rebels
The problem is that poets are trying to sell conformity around traditional notions and themes which revolve around love, family, democracy and basic societal virtue. This, however, contradicts their deeper and darker selves.
To be sure, modern poets rightly descend from Virgil. And Virgil met Dante at the gates of hell, where he offered to guide him throughout the circles of hell. In short, poets are bad, mad and dangerous to know. So their civility falls flat where notoriety sells.  

In the words of musician Des’ree: You gotta be bad, you gotta be bold. Poets should perform in the language that has the widest appeal in Uganda. In Kenya, many of the top spoken word poets use Kiswahili. This has broadened their appeal.
Remember that poetry is seen as elitist, to perform it outside of the use of English would localise it to a global market.
Any of the Ugandan vernaculars would do. And would thereby make it seem more authentic and homegrown.

Lack of authenticity
Poets will readily tell you that Ugandan poets steal poems from one another. This can only boomerang on poetry’s growth. It also narrows down its creativity to an echo, instead of promoting its singular voice.  

Being authentic does not stop poets from piggy-backing other art forms. We know that without Kwivuga, Ugandan stand-up comedy would not have appealed to a wider paying audience. Comedians readily jumped on the coattails of poetry and rustled up an even larger following. Poets should do the same by performing at music and comedy shows.

Kickboxing has Moses Golola. Comedy has Amooti. Who does poetry have? It certainly has Patience “Pesh” Laker, who won a poetry competition staged by Public Health Ambassadors UG in February and she recently won the East Africa Poetic Hour Battle for Uganda. Then it also has Isabirye Godfrey Mitch Jr, whose Mitchz Manifest, shows perennially sell out. These two should serve as the ambassadors of Ugandan poetry and can easily vault it to a higher state of being.

Making money in poetry
The story of poets has little to do with money. For, as the saying goes, “there’s no money in poetry, but then there’s no poetry in money, either.” But then again, we all know that Shakespeare was not a poor man. Neither was a truckload of European poets of old tooling across the pathless ways of how to make money.

In Uganda, poets make money from events, books, and teaching and by literally treading the yellow brick road like Mary Karooro Okurut. Because almost every poet is doing this or trying to do that, the road to moneydom, as it were, is narrowed down to the eye of a needle.
Alternatively, poets should get into poetry for their passion. This way, they will make their events free to bait and sell. When the audience is there and loves the poetry, then the money will follow.

Experts also advise that for money outside of shows, poets should broaden their appeal to the commercial marketplace by getting into copywriting by working at advertising agencies and creating personalisation websites. They could, for instance, one expert told Saturday Monitor, write lyrics for songs and write poetry for celebrities such as Zari Hussein.