W2B001K
New theatre group puts up sterling performance
Whenever a new theatre group is formed, the sceptics always ask whether its members think it will succeed where others have failed.
This kind of cynicism is becoming increasingly outdated because of the seriousness with which new groups are taking their art.
Wanajukwaa Players, <-/officialy> launched on Wednesday with the staging of Wole Soyinka's Masaibu ya Ndugu Jero (a translation of The Trials of Brother Jero) - which ends at the Kenya National Theatre (KNT) tonight - epitomises such seriousness with their decision to concentrate on Swahili plays in a bid to promote performances in the national language.
Making its debut earlier in the year with Ibrahim Hussein's Mashetani, Wanajukwaa has so far staged only school texts in Nairobi and upcountry. Is this perhaps opportunistic of the group because it is assured of an audience?
The group's chairman, Tingo Nyamatiko, thinks so but has no apologies to make about it. "There is nothing wrong with targeting school audiences," he said at the launching ceremony. The group prefers Swahili.
The guest of honour at the ceremony, Dr Kisa Amateshe of Kenyatta University, supports that. Saying that this has been a magical year in theatre success, Amateshe lamented that `the botched language policy in the country has derailed our own history". A national language well mastered by the citizens would curtail tribal chauvinism and hostilities as well as forge a commitment to national aspirations.
Masaibu ya Ndugu Jero is a satire of a Christian preacher with an inveterate weakness for women.
Ndugo Jero's imagination simply gallops away the moment he eyes a woman - whether or not other people are present.
But being the "Christian" he is, Jero has to pray time and again that God delivers him from this temptation. For all anyone cares, Jero is a religious crook who keeps the loyalty of his flock through the wily use of his tongue and the histrionics of his preaching while still perpetrating ills against anyone not toeing the line.
Nowhere is this better demonstrated than when he grants Chume, one of his followers, permission to beat up his wife. Chume only realises later that Jero is only trying to punish the poor woman for camping outside his residence to demand money which he owes her.
That production is a commendable improvement from Mashetani. There is definite awareness of technique and clear character delineation. But this could be enhanced further by harping on caricature. Wanajukwaa also needs to think more critically about masking and how to establish dominance and focus at different stages in the play.
Another Soyinka play, The Lion and the Jewel, staged by Miujiza Players, opened at the Rahimtulla Library Theatre on Friday and runs up to October 24.
Directed by Peter Ng'ang'a, this is an old favourite pitting a shrewd romantic old man, Chief Baroka, against the stilted academic love of teacher Launle who is competing for Sidi's love.
By feigning impotence, Baroka manages to get the unsuspecting Sidi into his bed and confirms once again that the brain is mightier than brawn. Erastus Owuor plays Baroka while Caroline Ndung'u is in her familiar role as Sidi.
<-/Rearing> to go is Neline and Ndaikei with an original script, Born of a Lesser God, slated for the KNT from October 22 to 25. 
Closer look at winning playwright
When a man achieves a major <-/fete> the first time, you may call it a fluke. But when he does it the second time, you give him a second look. The theatre fraternity is looking at Ben Ateku, the co-ordinator of the Nairobi Theatre Academy.
Ateku was recently declared winner of the 1992 British Broadcasting Corporation <-/playwriting> competition in the Theatre Africa series.
In 1988, Ateku was one of the six winners out of 120 contestants. His entry then was a play titled <-_called> Tom Says He is Dead, based on the breakdown of the extended family system.
This time round, Ateku has done it with Street People, originally a stage play composed in 1989 and staged by Wazalendo Players, but now adopted into a radio script for the competition.
The October to December issue of the BBC's Focus on Africa Magazine carries excerpts of the play as a supplement to herald the Africa theatre season which starts on November 21 at 7.30 pm with the airing of Ateku's play and a repeat on November 22 at 4.30 am, 6.30 am and 6.30 pm.
Street People is a hilarious play revolving round Johny and Jimmy, street urchins who are bent of  making a buck by any means.
After robbing a street walker of a briefcase which turns out to contain worthless paper, they masquerade as traffic policemen and manage to get some bribes, including some from the wife of the police commissioner who is driving with a licence expiring "next year" and - contrary to their rules - in the rain.
They decide to get into street preaching in a most comical manner. As the Reverends Wilson (Jimmy) and Motherson (Johny), they inform the congregation that they have just arrived on foot from Judah, and that is why they look shabby.
But the work of God must be done. The "brethren and <-/sistren>" are taken through testimonies of how the duo stole, committed adultery and contracted diseases. Jimmy even claims he had Aids but has been cured. While Jimmy says he suffered from East Coast Fever, Johny says his was West Coast Fever.
Finally, the congregation is invited to give alms, with Jimmy assuring them that "the Bible says you cannot see God unless you go through Jesus Christ and you cannot see Jesus unless you go through me". When they collect next to nothing, Johny's bye to the congregation is: "Stupid, in the name of God".
"My theatre history is brief," says the bespectacled Ateku. "When I was in Makongeni Primary School in 1975, I teamed up with Joseph Omulama, Robert Musyoka (now deceased), Steven Namayi and my brother, Moses Ateku, to form The Magnificent Five group. We staged skits and concerts in schools in Eastlands modelled on the Ojwang and Othorong'ong'o shows".
Later, as a student at Kabete Technical School, Ateku rejuvenated the drama club and was actively involved in music and drama at the St Stephen's Church. High school was in Kangaru and Ateku joined the Kenya Technical Teachers' College for a course in electrical engineering - and a gateway to play acting and writing.
"Ciugu Mwagiru directed Mwanadamu in which I acted the main role," he says.
"That was the first real challenge I had. It was awarded the best play at the colleges' national festival".
This gave Ateku the impetus to "experiment with my ideas", and hence culminating <_/resulting> <./t> <./>ed in Tom Says He is Dead, which won the best overall, original and English play in the 1987 festival and a year later the BBC prize of  1,000 when it was first aired in Britain and the same amount when aired in Zimbabwe in 1989. 
It's a trip down memory lane with Tanzania's Naipul
"Once upon a time, Uhuru Street was called Kichwele Street ... This street of independence ran through the city. It began in the hinterland of exclusively African settlements, came downtown lined by Indian shops, and ended at the ocean. Here ... Uhuru Street met the world".
M.G. Vassanji's short story anthology, Uhuru Street, entered by Heinemann International Literature and Textbooks for the Commonwealth Writers' Prize, is about meeting the world.
Starting with stories focusing on Indian families tied to typical prejudices, the anthology moves into stories about new influences which inevitably transform the people inhabiting the street in Dar es Salaam, Tanzania.
This transformation is as much symbolised by the change in name as by the story "Leaving" in which the main character goes for further studies in Canada. This is followed by perhaps the most remarkable story in the anthology. "Breaking Loose" is the story of Yasmin, an Indian girl, and Akoko, a Ghanaian.
The two meet at a dance and start a relationship which snowballs with its own impetus. When Yasmin takes Akoko home, her act is resented by the mother who tells her that "with an Asian man, even if he is evil, you know what to expect. but with him?" To Yasmin's mention that Akoko is a professor, the mother's reply is curt: "I don't care if he is a professor's father."
But there is no going back. Yasmin and Akoko are headed for a lifetime together. Theirs is a Mississippi Masala experience summarised in Yasmin's mind thus: "People, bound by their own histories and traditions, seemed like puppets tied to strings: But then a new mutant broke loose, an event occurred, the world changed. She was, she decided, a new mutant."
Reading Uhuru Street is like reading V.S. Naipul's Miguel Street with its idiosyncratic characters. In the former, you meet an enigmatic beggar, a profound town crier, a war veteran who claims to know German although he has only been heard to say two words and a host of other ordinary people trudging on from day to day.
No doubt one of the most memorable stories in the anthology is "English Lessons", technically a reminiscence of schoolboy pranks on a comical, if arrogant, teacher. Mr Stuart, who "looked neither European nor Asian", considers himself the master of manners, and everyone else a pretender to civility.
But it is the boys who have the last laugh when they go to his house seeking to see his wife. What they find is a woman who looks "young and old, her face ... smooth and pink, her hands delicate and small, her hair long and dishevelled ... her font teeth missing". The next day in class, Stuart gets a drawing labelled "Frankenstein's Monster" and knows he has been unmasked.
Uhuru Street explores mundane themes through vivid characterisation and use of throw-away lines in which repose poignant points.
Different as the stories are, they are united by a streak which makes each story more like a chapter of a novel. They couldn't be otherwise if they were to traverse the 1950s into the 1980s.
Vassanji could as well have been telling his own story. Born in Kenya of Asian origin, he was bred in Tanzania and now lives in Canada. In order not to lose touch with his African origins, Vassanji visits regularly and has chosen to write about, but not necessarily for, Asians.
"We need to saturate the market with stories about our lives since every problem can be traced to how people see themselves," he is reported to have said. "If we don't write about ourselves, we might as well consider ourselves buried".
Although Uhuru Street did not win the award, Vassanji has had a taste of winning before. In 1990, his novel, the Gunny Sack was awarded the best first published work prize in the contest.
He has published its sequel, No New Land, whose philosophy is that the illusion of heaven in new settlement is just that: An illusion.
Next week, we review the disqualified entry from an author you cannot ignore. 
Squabbling does not help theatre
You are Wasambo Were and Conrad Makeni and you are directing Romeo and Juliet to tour the country and assist students in understanding the play.
You are somewhere in Western Province when disagreements between and some of the actors arise. The next thing you know is that three of them, Tony Njuguna (Romeo), Steenie Njoroge (Friar John) and Delano Longwe (Prince) have abandoned the <-/programe> and are headed back to Nairobi.
You decide to continue with the show (you have to, anyway) and decide to place artists with scripts on stage.
You are Weru Munyoro and you have been staging Wamucuthi, a translation of Robert Serumaga's Majangwa, in various city hotels. Suddenly, your Wamucuthi (Mwangi Kimani) drops out of the show and you have to find a new artist to do the part lest you disappoint your patrons.
When such things happen, our integrity as artists and our loyalty is being put to the test. 
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TV and Radio Review: Good KTN programmes but poorly scheduled
BY 9 p.m. this evening many of those inclined to the KTN will
be squinting red-eyed at the end of the strenuous one and a half hour of good but badly timed programmes.
Starting off with Alf at 6.30 p.m, Murphy Brown thirty minutes later and Capital City to wind up the session, one wonders whether this is not too much for a sitting. Of course one has the choice to sit or break off at some point, but it is doubtful whether that is what KTN would like and in any case they are all good, compulsive programmes. So why not allow viewers a breather and reschedule the programmes to interrupt that continuity and by so doing make it easier for viewers to enjoy the three obviously very entertaining programmes? Just for an idea, Alf could run at 6.30 p.m., have a break with the news at 7 p.m. before proceeding to Murphy Brown and Capital City. In this order, the MTV musical would have to be dropped or rescheduled to some other time. Dropping might not be a bad idea since the musicals are more of a repeat these days.
In fact, <-/taking> about MTV, the KTN should seriously consider re-introducing the Sunday jazz programme which was a break from the pop music format of the MTV and was hence reaching a different audience with a perfect mood for Sunday evening.
The network has dropped the MTV chart and one wonders why.
With the chart, the channel was not only giving entertainment but on more so information on trends in other countries which is of interest to music lovers.
And how about a run on African music? It is an idea worth consideration and maybe work out a format similar to BBC Under African Skies programme which now rivals the Urtna programmes for diversity on African music.
Making news this past week was Attorney-General Mathew Muli as he fought a campaign seeking his resignation. He seems to have weathered the storm (at least for the moment) but strangely the electronic media missed out on the news. Let's not even talk about the KBC which seems to <-/persue> a policy to miss on vital news but even the KTN for all one might say has not performed very well on debating issues.
Both obviously have their hands tied in one way or the other, but excuses aside, it is what finally rolls out of the screens that <-_determine><+_determines> their competence.
So far there has existed a clear demarcation between what radio and television will do and it will not touch even though knowing clearly that the omission will be public knowledge widely circulated by the dailies.
We saw a replay of this in the week as the barrage of criticism on Mr Muli's competence was widely covered by newspapers and the public sat wondering what would happen almost certain that he would resign. Well, he has not, but television <-_have><+_has> done better by seeking his views.
The KBC already has a forum for such an interview in its Press <-/Confrerence> programmes, which have of late turned into a classroom for technical and professional studies. 
It's hard rock
 West Germany-based Kenyan musician Gordon Simone is back in the country to catch up with personal matters and spread his gospel of rock music.
 Known here for his days with the Black Savage band, Simone intends to spend four weeks here spearheading a Jimi Hendrix revival on shows in Nairobi and Mombasa and is busy drilling his line-up.
 He says "the band" will be Wana Savage, adding he has also bought a range of guitar effects for his "musical preference".
 "Don't expect anything other than hard, loud Hendrix type of rock," he warned and his cordless guitar allows him free movement and a stage act which he claims will simply be wild. "I am aware that Kenyans have not seen wild rock", he laughed, "but believe me they will have by the time I am through with them". Once playing with one of the very few rock bands here, Simone went to Germany in the early 80s, finally settling at Hamburg where he played and did odd jobs to keep head above water.
 He admits it is not easy out there, and lack of a recording deal - widely seen as a ticket to any artistes door to success - kept him out of playing.
 For bread, he has had to find employment with Jams, a sound and light company doing shows in German cities. Before his arrival here for a month-long break, he worked on tours by Maxi Priest and jazz group Incognito and says that the job keeps him quite busy.
 It is fun, says the rock player who sees the involvement with Jams as giving him additional skills as a sound and light man. Twice a year, he packs his guitar for a road show with his band and this has kept him in the music scene.
 For two years, he tried African music, playing a bit of this and that and a lot of <ea/>benga which he says was a new dimension for him and for the hundreds of fans who caught his band in action. One of the shows was purely accidental when he had to hurriedly call up his line up after a Kenyan group which he had lined-up for a performance failed to turn up. Simone found himself on stage as a last minute replacement. He speaks of Germany as going through two musical waves, jazz and rock, and he opts for the latter.
 "Strictly speaking, I have always been a rock player", he confesses. and is much more easier for me to <-/adopt> to rock than other forms of music."
 That is how he got started here with savage playing dates in city schools and even doing an album with the EMI records. The scene here was active then, he reflects, and recalls the shows with Madagascar's Razaka Mawi who shared his Hendrixi learning and together awakened the city rock crowd. "You could say that we did make a name here got very famous with the inner city crowd but really made no money to sustain our interests and pay bills," says Simone.
 "Ultimately, nobody is going to play on an empty stomach", he says and the choice was either to change the music or shift base.
 He did both and changed to Afro music and stirred the scene with Kothbiro (which almost every member of that group claim authorship) but not even this did much to the groups pockets and Simone finally left.
 Europe is not easy, he repeats and everything is determined by a good record deal and that is not easy to come by. The idea is to keep one afloat and work to the music which is how he got to work as a sound and light technician.
 Simone will be looking for new musical influences mostly on the lines of blending traditional African drum patterns and lace them with synthesizer riffs and melodies in the hope of creating a well seamed whole.
 I could even inject some <ea/>benga guitar and see how it ties in but essentially the idea is to maintain dominance of drums and <-_percussions><+_percussion>, which would be exciting if it works," he says.
 Depending on how it goes, he could go back to Germany with a different sound next month when he is due back there and confront record companies with brand new music.
 That is his hope but for now what is certain is that he will be on stage in two weeks playing rock in Jimi Hendrix style. 
Showbiz: Sweet melodious voices
On the National Theatre stage, the Black Voices looked terrific. Clad in long flowing West African costumes, their different but well matched colours had a detectable interplay with the theatre lighting.
From the far left corner, group leader Carol Pemberton had an easy surveillance of her mates and the crowd in the packed theatre auditorium, exuding a certain authority that was as cool as it was unmistakable.
The five on stage at 8 p.m. setting a programme that was to trace the history of Black music, <-/journing> through the Americas, <_/Carribean> with a teasing hint of African roots through a South African original.
The choice of songs had as much to do with the history as it had with the mood, a clever approach, affording the shift of moods vital if the audience was to remain entertained. The musicians, Pemberton, Beverly Robinson, Anne Marie Burnet, Roielle Sinclair and Sandra Francis kept close as if to share the warmth of each other's company through the two hour performance.
Unlike the conventional choirs seen here, Acapella groups are small units that might not have the advantage of numbers of <-_percussions><+_percussion> instruments for beat or tune setting but are expected to project the same ambience through better individual voice toning and overall blending.
Neither was lacking on this first night of the show with the ladies showing beautiful use of expressions in voice as well as on the face and the effect was both calming and compulsive.
Pemberton, a drilled story teller, was more of the narrator introducing each song and engaging in the chit chat that fanned warmth and generating greater intimacy with the group and the audience.
One after another the songs flowed, most of them familiar here as old negro spirituals notably Nobody knows the Troubles I have Seen and others and for a spontaneous clapping heard for <-_a><+_as> many times as there were songs.
The familiarity of Rivers of Babylon heard here largely as a Boney M pop hit, was to be a major draw for the evening, it took the comforting Lean On Me, a Bill Withers original, to draw the best of the audience with wild cheers from a section of the crowd.
There was also a good reaction for Zenze Zina, a South <-_Africa><+_African> gem - one of the many songs written in a lobby for the release of Nelson Mandela.
Although moulded as an all voice <-_groups><+_group>, use of human voices as instruments is a strong point for Acapella groups. In Black Voices, Carol Pemberton hummed bass guitar lines through most of the 28 songs in the programme but it was Beverly Robinsons who ultimately brought it all out to focus with hair raising <-/mimick> of the saxophone on Let My Little Light Shine real in tone as in the style of improvisations.
On sets like this, one would expect at least a pitch pipe for correct voice pitching but the ladies have been together long enough to master the voice range from song to song and only once did the pitching nearly let them down.
But thanks to the professionalism, slight blunder was well covered with a joke by Pemberton and the audience was able to join in laughing off what would have otherwise been an unnerving moment for ones of lesser experience group .
Friday night had two sets, split into one hour a piece and marked with a change of costume within the 15 or so minutes break.
On the second session an improvement of the theatre lighting spurred more character to the theatre stage and there was clearly more fire in the songs.
When the show ended at 10 p.m. the crowds sort an encore which was duly granted giving an additional quarter hour of songs and by the moment the women joined hands for the final bow any doubts about the success of this maiden tour by an Acapella group had been put to rest.
Saturday's show City Hall was to be a mere rubber stamp of the <-_Fridays><+_Friday's> conclusive judgement. The spice this time was Kenyan own Muungano national choir, internationally acclaimed through the chart breaking Missa Luba recording for Phillips Classics.
The show, one of the rare by this acclaimed choir should hopefully inspire objective judgement for Muungano which has had some resistance here over what is perceived as its KANU connection and nothing really to do with its performance.
W2B003K
A storm in a weather report
A strong wind, perhaps a gale, wheezes past, leaving trees and clothes (especially dresses and skirts) dancing menacingly, an eerie forecast of the things ahead.
A roaring thunderclap sends a tremor through the spine. Then a blinding flash of lightning leaves you bewildered.
And before you find your way out of the confusion, you are in the deep of a mess. It's raining cats and dogs and you'd better dash for cover.
The KBC weather report signal used on both radio and television always reminds me of the Noah's Arch and the numbers by the late American singer Jim Reeves, The Blizzard add Snowflakes. It's very appropriate and effective.
But whirlwind, sandstorm, typhoon, hail, sleet, breeze, draught or even drought are all welcome when one is prepared for them, having been warned early by the Meteorological Department, especially through the mass media. What might raise a <-/duststorm> - fogging the vision, clouding the mind and clogging the ears - is a not-so-good presentation of the warning.
Fancy this reality: <non-standard_>Ngarrissa and Rraamu will have crroudy weather while Rrondwar will have rright rrains with rrighteening<non-standard/>. The extra Rs in those strange words are mine, just to accentuate the harshly discordant notes made by the weather report presenter. So are the Es in <non-standard/>rrighteening.
However, I did not make them up in my imagination. Neither are they a commonplace joke. They are real, loud and clear, coming from the KBC General Service on Friday at about 9.15 pm during the weather report after the 9-pm news bulletin.
They are real, to both the eye and the ear, ask the KBC television viewers who listen to <-/thwe> weather forecast.
I have heard loud mispronunciations from the KBC announcers before but I find these rather disquieting because, in my rough assessment (although I was not counting the words), three out of every 10 words were jarring to the ears during that radio bulletin on Friday night.
I bet that by just being clever at guessing, you are unlikely to understand that weather report. You would have to understand, at least remotely, the announcer's mother tongue to have even a faint idea as to what message was.
What the announcer actually wanted to say was: Garissa and Lamu will have cloudy weather while Lodwar will have light rains with lightning.
(Although the announcer did not apply that particular phrase, he used all those words - and many more like them pronouncing them wrongly.).
If it was so irritating on the radio, imagine how disgusting on television!
I hope the mispronunciations did not arise from misspelling. That would obviously make matters worse as far as the name and image of the KBC is concerned.
It's not good to do a lot  of  research on the weather and yet fail to present it clearly and in a style commensurate with the quality of the report itself, the dignity and expectation of the audience and the macro-image of the parastatal broadcasting station.
It hurts all the parties concerned. The person who did the research feels his/her efforts (and his sweat, if you like) went down the drain, the report reader - no names - is badly besmirched by the mass exposure of his/her own shoddy performance, the broadcasting station earns a bad name (remember the Bank of Crooks and Conmen International in reference to the BCCI), and the person for whom the message is intended gets a raw deal because the communication does not go through.
* A supporter of the KBC's Zingatia is calling on companies and wellwishers to financially assist in saving the popular programme from collapse.
Ashina Kabibi (Nina),    the script-writer, was speaking to the Nation in Mombasa.
She said that although the producers and other participants had novel ideas on how to keep Kenyans entertained, they were faced with financial obstacles which broke the morale of the artists and made it difficult to travel for shooting.
Ashina said the KBC paid the artists and provided rehearsing facilities, but the going was still very tough for them.
"Some very good actors keep telling me they would quit the group if they got a job elsewhere," Ashina said.
She said the Zingatia programme had become so popular that all should be done to maintain and improve it.
The group comprises 35 members and it takes them one month to rehearse before they finally recorded for screening.
Ashina, a student at the University of Nairobi, was grateful for the co-operation given by the KBC staff in Mombasa. 
The news we can't have enough of 
On Friday, February 16, 1990, the remains of the ebullient, brilliant and illustrious Minister for Foreign Affairs and International Co-operation, Dr Robert Ouko, were found at the foot of Got Alila in Kisumu District.
That became one of Kenya's darkest hours, triggering tears, demonstrations, riots and other forms of protest and setting off on a long story that is still being told.
The Minister's family had the previous night reported Dr Ouko missing, issuing the following statement: "Could Dr Ouko please contact his family or the nearest police station".
The following week, detectives John Troon and Graham Dennis and pathologist Ian West of the New Scotland Yard arrived in Kenya to help unearth the mystery surrounding the death. On Monday, September 24, Superintendent Troon presented to then Attorney-General Matthew Muli a one-foot-thick report of the Yard's findings.
On Monday, October 1, President Moi appointed a judicial commission to inquire into the death.
Towards the end of October, the Minister's brother, Mr Barrack Mbajah, went missing just before he was to appear before the commission. Up to this day, the disappearance and fate of Mr Mbajah remain a mystery.
The commission sits for its 180th day today, one year and four months after the Minister's death.
If there is news to be reported without relenting by the mass media in Kenya, it is that concerning the death of Dr Ouko, who was also the Member of Parliament for Kisumu Town.
Some of the media may have become tired of covering the commission's proceedings on a daily basis.
However, the Kenya Television Network would seem to be doing the opposite of that. It's coverage of the proceedings seems to be getting better every day.
The medium is using bold graphics in screening news during the 9 and 11 pm bulletins - every day there is a sitting.
Against the background of the Kisumu Town Hall, where <-/he> proceedings are taking place, they impose a clear and bold portrait of Dr Ouko, who was the most articulate, eloquent and elaborate campaigner for the single-party system of government in Kenya at the time he died.
Meanwhile, the newscaster reads the news as the main points are printed on the screen in their order of importance and in bold.
This is impressive. It shows that the KTN knows not only what but also where the news is and it does not stop there.
It excels in stylish, quality presentation of an issue that is simply impossible to ignore if one is in business and wishes to compete seriously.
The great lengths to which the Kenya Government has gone in trying to establish who killed that popular and promising politician is an effort not to be squandered by the media.
It's a golden opportunity for those in the business of informing the people to tell a meaningful story - every day.
Although the Kenya Broadcasting Corporation television  viewers and radio listeners outnumber the KTN clientele by far, many whose sets can receive the upmarket KTN are happy to watch its new bulletins.
KBC, beware. Many viewers wonder why they cannot tune into the KBC for any news from the Ouko inquiry proceedings.
Note that the KTN is using a similarly creative and attractive style in presenting news from Parliament.
With the picture of Parliament Buildings unfolding in the background, the KTN newscaster begins the story. As he/she reads on, the main points are printed in bold on the screen.
The KTN does this during the 9 and 11 pm news bulletins every day there is business in Parliament, and it's a major attraction.
Parliament is the institution in which the laws governing the country are made, amended, reviewed and changed.
And even when the laws are not amended or changed, the Members of Parliament still discuss them openly, highlighting their strengths and weaknesses.
The Members also discuss the national budget and allow or disallow Government expenditure.
And every Kenyan is represented in that august House - in one way or the other.
Naturally, every Kenyan would like to know at the end of the day what transpired in the House.
The KBC's tireless efforts in broadcasting the proceedings on the radio in the evening - through the National Service in Swahili and the General Service in English - are laudable. 
But the manner in which the KTN is handling the matter on the screen is marvellous.
Note that the KTN has introduced a local news bulletin at 11 pm.
This is neither a summary nor a repeat of the 9 pm bulletin but it's more of an update before the station hands us over to the Cable News Network for international news bulletins until morning. 
Sound and vision: Too much self-advertisement 
Many viewers have expressed their concern about the rate of self-advertisement by the Cable News Network, better known as CNN International.
The viewers are <-/chagrinned> and - despite being impressed by the CNN's <-/sobber> performance in other fields - have been unable to disguise their disgust.
True, the CNN is a leader in gathering and disseminating news - at least to those of us who have not been exposed to other world-class television stations and whose previous viewing experience had been limited to the Kenya Broadcasting Corporation menu.
Every time I watch the CNN International, I look forward to international news scoops, something the KBC simply does not have the capacity to obtain or offer.
Often I am impressed. I see George Bush talking from his bed about his heart ailment - live!
I see German Chancellor Helmut Kohl and Mr Bush fielding questions from the press at the White House - live!
There is business news anchorman Tom Cassidy telling the world about his nightmare of living with Aids.
The disease is no longer rare and an encounter with it cannot be materially rewarding, but a meeting, albeit on the screen, with a victim who talks candidly about his misfortune can be good food for thought and the soul.
However, watching the CNN can, at times, be sheer boredom.
The station will take its sweet time to tell the world that Egyptian President Hosni Mubarak was relying on it for his information about the Unites States-led negotiations that failed to thwart the Gulf War.
They will remind you for the fifth time within two hours that you will be able to watch Larry King live at a given hour and Crossfire at another.
They keep talking about Bella Shaw's and Laurin Sydney's Showbizz Today.
They advertise other stars and programmes that make the CNN worth watching - Moneyline with Lou Dobbs, International Hour and The World Today with Bernard Shaw, Frank Sesno, Catherine Crier and so on and so forth.
They are yet to announce: "These fine hotels offer CNN International", giving you a list of nearly all the hotels in Europe and some of the best in the rest of the world.
Do you still have any time left to watch those promised goodies?
Do you still have the energy to keep watching? Do you still have the zest?
Obviously, the CNN personnel in Atlanta, Georgia, are not expected to know that some of these repetitious house advertisements are not necessary in Nairobi where there are only two television stations and where serious rivalry is yet to be seen.
What one might expect is more precise editing of those redundancies by the Kenya Television Network, through which we obtain the CNN programmes.
W2B004K
Arts Personality
Kasigwa's stage magic
When Barbas N. Kasigwa's waves his wand, there is magic on the stage. He waved it at Kaaga Girls High School in Embu and that school got into centre stage in the Kenya Schools Drama Festival contests. Now he is waving it at Moi Kabarak High School and the winning streak has stayed with him.
This year, he got Kabarak on the pedestal with his play, The Scum, which won seven awards in the national Kenya Schools Drama Festival held in Mombasa in April. A week and a half ago, the same play was the talk of town when the festival winners performed at the Kenya National Theatre.
The play deservedly got awards in most of the prestigious categories.
Apart from being the overall winning play, it was named the Best Production, the Best English Play and The Best Scripted Play. It also won the First Runners Up Best Costume and Decor trophy, Second Runners Up Best Actor and First Runners Up Best Actress awards.
Under his gifted hand, Kasigwa led Kaaga to the drama festival finals in 1983, 1985 and 1986. In 1985, his play, The Trials was the overall winner apart from getting six trophies. The 1987 entry, Wishful Thinking came second in the same festival.
Naturally there were all shades of opinion about Kasigwa's victory this year. "This man, would not have won if he had not come from a school with big resources," some people said.
Kasigwa says that is a prejudiced comment: "What about Kaaga? My plays do not require heavy investment. The decor is simple and props few. Take the case of The Scum. All we have for props are logs, a bench and a dustbin. The costumes, too, are simple as in the case of a lunatic wearing a sack. Which school cannot afford to have those things? At the same time, I write my plays in such a way that they can be acted anywhere."
The dramatist of course acknowledges that a theatre producer in a school requires support from the school head. He attributes his success at Kaaga to the support he got from the headmistress, Mrs Gladys Gichoga and at Kabarak, the backing up by the principal, Mr C. N. Lagat.
Drama is not a one season affair at Kabarak but a permanent part of the extra-curricular activities there. Apart from producing school texts for his school, Kasigwa also organises interhouse drama competitions.
A good sign of success is when one is imitated, something that has happened to Kasigwa. His winning stylistic techniques have
been adapted by many schools come drama festival time. Kasigwa appreciates that recognition although he feels that artists should create works that show the creator's mark.
"Although an artist cannot operate in isolation, at the same time his or her craftmanship must be seen in the product.
That is why I try to create works that are uniquely mine so that when you see one you can say, that is a Kasigwa art form."
Writing plays for school drama has its challenges. "When I am writing, I have to know the kind of artists I intend to involve in the play. I have to create something within their reach. At the same time, I have to share ideas with my students."
Kasigwa's art will soon be available in an anthology that is due to be published. The six drama festival winning plays will be issued together with production notes and the playwright hopes that it will be a mature anthology for secondary and primary schools drama producers.
Drama, says Kasigwa, is a perfect educative tool and offers good training for students. "Nowhere is unity better pronounced as in drama as it demands tolerance.
At the same time it prompts creativity, triggers imagination and it is enjoyable. Theatre also offers a forum for self re-examination for after you have watched a play, it should give you food for thought so that you can reflect on what life is. The Uganda-born playwright is disenchanted with drama festivals. "The trouble with the so called festivals is that they are not a festive occasion. All we have is cut-throat competition and little celebration. Most people who go to the festivals do not appreciate other people's work. They put the sense of aesthetics aside and wear blinkers because all they are thinking is how they can take trophies home. They cannot own up the fact that other plays could be better than theirs.
"It is unfortunate that the festival has been turned into that but for purposes of organisation there is nothing that you can do about it now. That hunt for trophies reminds me of what the Malawian novelist and dramatist David Rubadiri said once. He said that `if all that heads of schools wanted were trophies then we might as well hold harambee to buy them."
As any other creative person Kasigwa's most enjoyable moments are when he sees his idea translated on the stage and people appreciating them. That he is now at the top of the drama league Kasigwa feels the daunting challenge of staying there but even if he dropped in his performance, the mark he has made on Kenya's drama scene will outlive him.
Surprisingly, Kasigwa had no specialised training in drama at Makerere University where he studied Literature in English. That, perhaps is a statement that talent takes precedence over training. 
Culture Beat
What is the KBC up to?
THE Kenya Broadcasting Corporation is playing the game of musical chairs once again. Its management has banned what is called "vernacular music" and Zairean songs from its national service air waves. It is now playing only Kiswahili music and this is not the first time it is trying to "detribalise" itself.
One of the reasons given is that all national institutions must play down the tribal factor. The KBC considers itself to be one such institution and that music in Kenyan languages is opposed to national cohesion and to feelings that we are one tribe called Kenya and not a conglomeration of 40 tribes each with its distinct attributes.
If the KBC has been motivated purely by that kind of reasoning, then the chief decision maker has his priorities and programmes wrong. He is doing more injustice to the country than justice.
My position is that music in Kenyan languages in their diversity should be promoted instead of being suppressed. It should be accorded the same standing as that in Kiswahili. The same goes for written literature in Kenyan languages other than Kiswahili. Their place in the wider literary plane should not be that of a distant cousin who is likely to cause discord but one of a brother alongside Kiswahili.
The music KBC is suppressing represents a key cultural fact that has a right to exist. It is music that expresses the language of a particular people who have a right to exist. Sometimes that music expresses the particular thinking of a people and those people have a right to think and exist.
Much as we would like to promote the idea of one nation and one language, the fact is that we are born in specific tribes which make up Kenya. That is why we eat foods that are specific to our tribes many times, speak the languages of those ethnic groups and indeed create music in the words and styles of those tribes. We cannot wish away that fact of cultural affiliation to a tribe and its culture.
It might also serve to know that if one talks the language of a certain tribe then he is not a tribalist. It does not mean that he or she will hate other languages. If one sings in a language of one's tribe, this does not make one a tribalist. Tribalism is expressed through such means as favouring people from your tribe when giving jobs and other favours. You can be the greatest tribalist on Kenyan soil although you don't speak the language of your tribe or sing its songs.
Kenyan cultures are full of life. Some of them have been tapped by the music that the KBC is now frustrating. The melodies and words that are inspired by those cultures have been responsible for some of the most inspired compositions recorded to date. The Director of Broadcasting need not be told the pop group, Musically Speaking has mainly succeeded because it has drawn on Kenya's cultural (call it tribe-based) fountain for its content and form.
At the same time, there are musicians who can create only in the languages of their ethnic groups. Is the Director of Broadcasting saying that they have no right to exist? Is he saying the D. O. Misiani, Joseph Kamaru, Sukuma bin Ongalo have no right to exist? Is he saying that they are not Kenyans? They are Kenyans and great ones at that. They are as great as the greatest musicians who sing in Kiswahili in Kenya.
At the same time, the KBC managers should know that music in Kenyan languages defies such petty labels as "parochial" because it breaks through linguistic and cultural barriers. That is why some of it appeals to a wide cross section of people, including those who don't speak that language that it is <-_sang><+_sung> in.
When I listen to one of my local idols, DO Misiani, I don't usually remember that he sings in Dholuo. It is the creative muse that comes through in his music that moves me. The same applies to my other favourites including such groups as the Pressmen Band. Their Mzenangu for example moves me although I don't understand a word of what they sing about. The mood and the melody takes me over.
In all, that kind of talent needs exposure and putting it under the bushel as the KBC is doing, is not only fighting Kenyan cultures but also frustrating talent. It is a case of a Kenyan institution fighting Kenyans for no other reason  that they were born in a tribe, talk and sing in the language of that tribe.
Something that the bosses at the KBC should remember is that you cannot force creative minds to think the way you want them to and yet by banning music in Kenyan languages from the National Service of the Broadcasting service is like trying to force musicians to compose in only one language so that they can get exposure.
That kind of mind-bending can be disastrous to the creativity of musicians. Take for example a musician like Joseph Kamaru. There is no doubt that he is a king when it comes to compositions in Kikuyu. However, his attempts to compose in Kiswahili so that he can reach out a wide audience have resulted in some of the most mediocre songs he has ever produced.
One can only summarise what the KBC has done in one <-/>one word: censorship. That censorship cannot be justified under the guise of such lofty sounding ideals as "national identity" and "cohesion."
Censorship has of course always existed in that broadcasting station. We have had cases of songs being banned for some frivolous reasons including some <-/paranoic> people reading non-existent political messages in them. That has not been good at all for Kenyan musicians who hoped to have exposure on radio because they had to choose what are considered "safe" themes.
Such themes include love and lamentations about how hard life is. The love songs that we hear mostly are about jilted men lovers singing of this and that <-_women><+_woman> who is so unkind as to forget what a great husband the man is. The same <-_women><+_woman> is said to be callous that she leaves children suffering. If I had my way, I would ban that kind of music because it demeans women. If women are not being sang about like shop display items, they are being blamed for home desertion and other ills.
On the whole, Kenyan music lacks content that one for example finds in Tanzania music. 
W2B005K
The Creative Arts
Theatre
How a playwright plays it right
It is unusual for any Kenyan student to turn down a university admission offer. But Okoiti Omtata, a published up-coming Kenyan playwright did exactly that and opted to join the Mabanga Seminary in 1984 to study philosophy. He had been offered a chance to study commerce at the University of Nairobi.
Even at Mabanga, Omtata did not run the whole race. He studied philosophy in 1984 and 1985 and obtained a diploma. Later, he left the college after some administration functionaries found him too liberal.
He taught at a Busia school from 1986 to 1988 when he joined the Kenya Polytechnic to study automotive engineering. While at the Polytechnic, he was attached to the Kenya Army as a trainee engineer. He completed his course in 1991 and did several jobs until November the same year when he got his current job as an internal motor assessor with the Kenya National Assurance Company Limited.
Omtata has been a story-teller since his childhood days. He was close to his grandparents, who narrated stories to him, which he also retold his friends. It was while conducting research for his oral literature paper that inspiration to write plays came. His grandmother dramatized the stories and he in turn decided to present his findings in dramatic form.
He had read the tale of Lwanda Magere while still in class three and the story had fascinated him ever since. While at the seminary, philosophy gave him the impetus to think more about free will and predestination, which are the main themes in his Lwanda Magere play. While at Mabanga, Omtata read a lot of Greek comedies and tragedies, writings which inspired him. He is also fascinated by Wole Soyinka's writings. His greatest interest, however, lies in Russian literature. He finds the writings paying particular and in-depth attention to individuals and this he believes is the greatest glory in writing for the individual. The individual's problems and fascinations will always endure, as opposed to systems of government, societies and other institutions which come and go. Though not a lover of popular literature, he believes it has the right to exist. 
With regard to the reading culture in Kenya, Omtata questions whether the complainants (writers) read much literature outside their areas of specialization. The reading culture is discouraging all the same. It is rare to see people reading (or is it escaping into books) and most people in Kenyan libraries are students.
Omtata's favourite subject is mathematics and he enjoys calculus immensely. He finds no mystery in mathematics, thanks to his dedicated grandfather who taught him to recite the multiplication tables up to digit 12 even before he joined class one. He passed well in science subjects at the "O" Level and he finds the engineering career quite interesting. 
Omtata's greatest realization is that writing is a talent and one need not be an academician to write. A writer needs <-/essentialy> to arange words well. On language, he says that he writes in English due to influence, otherwise language, like ideas, belongs to no individuals. Writers should use languages that will address more people, even vernacular languages, merging issues to give universal themes/cultures and languages if possible. No one should be on the defensive over how a language is used provided the message is imparted.
Where does he obtain his material from? History and folklore are some of his sources. Currently, he is researching on "<ea/>Misembe" a ritual healing exercise, though he is facing problems. The woman whom he is interviewing, said to possess the healing powers, is shy and unwilling to divulge any information.
He also hopes to do research on the Luo <ea/>tero tradition. Oral traditions in Kenya were falsified by oppressive colonial forces. As a Christian, he wants to know the truth.
He finds <ea/>tero oppressive. He wants to find out about cultural conflicts, morality and faith and believes Christianity a more refined behaviour not much different from what our forefathers believed in. He also plans to work on children's plays and write a novel based on orature.
Omtata keeps an open ear and open eyes and his keen observations inspired him. In his award-winning play, The Voice of the People, he was inspired by Prof Wangari Maathai and what was happening then. He has already written a play on Ford, Damn Patriotism, for nationwide production, which he feels will be a challenge to Ford and human liberty.
He does not care what people will think about his play for he is not affiliated to any political party though he espouses some of the expressions on liberty by the opposition. His Christian faith teaches him to carry the cross. Carrying the cross involves suffering and meeting challenges to bring about changes without fear, as Christ did.
He is also an entertainer and uses fiction to effect this. Fiction takes 60 per cent of his Voice of the People. And so in essence, the past, the present and fiction <-_from><+_form> his sources.
The current political changes are good to him as a writer. Society is awakened and courage has become fashionable. People have stopped applauding whatever is an official declaration.
Unfortunately though, everything seems to be left to politicians and society lacks checks away from legislation. People therefore should check and censor acts by politicians.
Educationists, economists and others have been left out when crucial decisions are being reached.
Omtata attended the Third International Festival of Playwrights in Australia last year, sponsored by British Airways. He met a lot of writers and avers that writing needs a lot of exposure to different backgrounds. He found writers from the Far East very down to earth. 
What does he have to say to aspiring writers? They should not be motivated by financial gains because money is scarce in this field. Writers should not hurry to be published and should take heart, for writing is a long road. They should be receptive to criticism. All human beings who make choices are critics. Writers should avoid being hypersensitive to public opinion. Criticism can be positive because it assesses works. Writers should strive to forge friendship with critics because they (critics) are education observers.
Omtata finds artists' attitudes particularly at the Kenya National Theatre, nauseating. Some artists are never serious. At the theatre bar they specialize in gossip, drinking and rumour-mongering rather than discussing issues and challenges.
Occasionally, some theatre groups meet there. There is usually some impolite noise up the bar while productions are on at the theatre. Hope abounds now that there are many young people joining theatre and firms must come out and support theatre. This notwithstanding, there is unnecessary rivalry between old and new theatre groups and a lot of mediocrity in radio and TV plays.
The management of the Kenya National Theatre (KNT) is ignorant and shows lack of closeness to reality in theatre circles. Colonialism has a role to play here because Kenyans are shy about their backgrounds. Unless Kenyans can decolonize their minds, we have a long way to go.
Omtata has produced and directed his plays because many groups were not willing to. He produced and directed the Chains of Junkdom at the KNT. The fact that Kenyans lack a traditional attire attests to the fact that we are still brainwashed.
Omtata has several published and unpublished works to his credit. These include: Taken for Granted, Lwanda Magere (published 1991); the Chains of Junkdom (to be published 1992); the Voice of the People, Adultery must be punished; Cosmetic; Damn Patriotism More than I can and a Brood of Vipers (a novel).
He has been invited to an international book trade fair and writers festival in Bucharest, which was scheduled for June 11 to 14 but which was postponed due to the conflict in Bosnia Herzegovina and is currently looking for sponsorship for travelling costs.
Andrew Okoiti Omtata was born on November 30 1964, in Kwang'amor village Amukura Division in Busia District of Western Kenya. He attended local primary schools from 1971 and joined St Peter's Amukura Secondary in 1978. In 1980, he transferred to St Peter's Amukura Secondary in 1978. For his A levels <orth>He joined the Tindinyo College. Seminary near Kapsabet where he studied Literature, CRE and Economics attaining an "A" level pass of 13 points.
He opted to pursue the priesthood at St Augustine's Philosophicaum in 1984 and has much praise for seminary education. He was exposed to everything in the curriculum without specializing in any. Omtata is still single. 
Review
Theatre
Kenya's educational system, like other systems in developing countries, lays great emphasis on academic excellence, sometimes at the expense of the development of thinking and reasoning skills.
And in an attempt to meet standards that put glory and glamour - almost everything that matters in life - on academic certificates many students have wallowed in classrooms with ignored talents, reading day in day out just to pass examinations and later qualify as impractical, illiterate graduates or as unemployable (unemployed) drop-outs.
But in Nairobi one institution which seems to have weathered the academic-certificates mania is the Nairobi Theatre Academy (NTA), and institution that aims at harnessing and developing theatrical skills.
According to Ben Ateku, the co-ordinator, the academy does not have a set minimum academic requirement for interested applicants. It is more interesting in identifying potential talent and commitment.
However, the academy is keen to judge the intellectual capabilities of applicants. This ensures that able people are admitted, academic excellence notwithstanding, and helps fight stereotyped attitudes that glorify academic excellence at the expense of other skills and talents.
The NTA was inaugurated on March 30, 1990, and is sponsored by the French Government through the French Cultural Centre. Its offices and auditorium are on the third floor of the FCC along Loita Street in Nairobi.
The principle aim of its forming it was to promote theatre in Kenya by acting as the umbrella organisation joining together aspiring artistes from different theatre groups in a bid to share and sharpen skills.
Initially, the academy started its programmes by conducting theatre workshops and performing plays. Since its formation, the academy has performed several plays, including Aikin Mata, The Imaginary Invalid, The Vow and An Exchange for Honour, among others. In 1991, which was its second year of existence, the academy intensified its programmes and developed a one-year theatre education curriculum. Currently, it has 52 students of whom 31 are part-time and 21 full-time.
Courses are conducted every term like in schools. The full-time classes begin at 10 am and end at 5 pm while the part-time classes begin at 5.30 pm and end at 7.30 pm. Part-time students pay fees while full-time students are unemployed and are given a small allowance which enables them to meet travelling costs.
When the course was advertised, 206 people applied, but the academy was able to admit a mere 62. This is evidence that the programme is popular in Kenya.
"The course started in early September, 1990, and the progress so far is commendable," says Ateku.
What about varying commentaries from different theatre critics? Ateku says such commentaries are more often than not subjective. An artiste should not base his motivation on critiques, The drive to creativity should come from within and artistes should soberly judge each critic individually so that they can tell the difference between constructive and destructive criticism. The academy hopes to continue intensifying its theatre courses, develop and document them for posterity.
Lecturers come from the literature departments of our universities. Experienced actors and theatre directors and writers also teach and are paid on a part-time basis.
As regards allegations by critics that the academy has veered from its intended objectives, he says this is false. Critics lay emphasis on production, ignoring other aspects of training at the academy.
"The biggest challenge has been to come up with a theatre curriculum relevant to Kenya artistes. The continuous workshops did not meet objectives adequately. We have now developed a relevant curriculum. 
W2B006K
Culture and the Arts
Arts Personality
Shange: The star who came from nowhere
Pat Shange, the visiting black South African musician who last Friday entertained hundreds of Kenyans at the Carnivore Restaurant in Nairobi, initially wanted to become an electrician.
The man who was taught how to play a guitar by his father while still in primary school, even undertook a two-year electrical course. Had his talents not been discovered by a sharp-nosed talent scout, Shange would perhaps be sorting out tangled wires in some small electrical wiring outfit or amateur music group.
Today, with about 15 albums to his credit, and a name that transcends the Southern African borders, Shange believes the diversion into show-biz was appropriate. 
The man who helped launch him onto the threshold of stardom was Wilson Ndlovu, a hard- nosed talent scout who discovered Shange while visiting friends near where Shange played music with an up-and-coming band, The Juveniles. 
Shange, who was born in Pietermaritzburg in the early fifties, says he nevertheless loved music and could fiddle with the guitar at 12. "I played the guitar in school and church choirs and during Christmas festivities," he recalls. 
It is after leaving high school that he undertook the electrical course, while occasionally jamming with Soul Expressions and Pack & Go as a drummer and singer. 
But his new-found career took a dramatic dimension when Ndlovu convinced him to take music seriously and follow him (Ndlovu) to Johannesburg where he recorded Lalela Mntakwethu, his debut Zulu album. 
He says the album notched a top slot in almost all black stations, especially Radio Zulu and Xhosa and went gold - selling over 25,000 copies. Realising his chart busting potential, he was urged to do a follow up which also proved to be a big hit. Ever since, he has never looked back. 
He did seven Zulu albums, before turning his lyrical creativity into English songs in 1984. 
"Happily married but no kids yet," Shange believes his meteoric rise had much to do with the white South African recording mogul, Phil Hollis of Dephon Promotions. There is something special about the way he records, produces, distributes and promotes an artiste, he says of the man under whose wings also fall Yvonne Chaka Chaka and Chicco. 
Shange who philosophically says only God can explain some imbalances laments that, although South Africa has many stinking wealthy African entrepreneurs, few have succeeded in  music business. "Many blacks venture into music production only to burn their fingers," he says. 
Perhaps they lack serious commitment and uncanny foresight - cardinal <-/ingridients> in this speculative trade which changes with the volatile lifestyle fashions and trends. 
A majority of the most successful record firms are owned by whites, and the country's top entertainers, who are mainly blacks, come under them. Reggae outfit Lucky Dube, Bredda Fassie, Stimella and Sankomota are cases in point. 
He believes this lamentable situation can only be rectified if the top artistes only signed contracts with black-owned record firms (but) run by whites. 
Shange was surprised that his records had been selling in Kenya without the knowledge or consent of any of his agents in Africa, Europe or America. 
He says they also experience the general problems of piracy and producers ripping artistes on royalty payments, through cheating on record sales and intricate contracts. Piracy has however been reduced, through Asami (a musicians' union) to 25 per cent - as compared to over double that figure elsewhere on the continent. 
Shange who believes music is for pleasure and politics should be left to politicians mainly sings about love. He describes his current beat as disco. However, it occasionally infuses a throbbing synthesised <-/bassline> with overtones of the traditional <ea/>mbaqanga or <ea/>kwela. It is a creation called Soweto Jive. 
It is this beat that has ensured Shange sales of over 50,000 copies with almost each album he releases. Tonight You Gonna Give, which he plans to release soon is also sure to hit the mark. 
His most successful were Sweet Mama and Undecided Divorce Case, which earned him platinum discs after selling over 100, 000 copies each. 
South Africa, one of the continent's three biggest record markets besides Nigeria and Egypt, assures top notch artistes sales even of upwards of 250,000 copies. Sipho Mabuse did so with Burn Out in 1987. No wonder Shange says music in South Africa is lucrative. With only 15 albums and a career spanning 15 years, the man confidently says he, among other things, owns a house in the posh Protea North Estate of Johannesburg where he has also built a 16-track studio for recording demo tapes. 
Besides owning a truck and VW <slang/>Combis for transporting his musicians and 250,000 rand-worth music equipment , he also owns a fleet of sleek luxury cars - a Mercedes Benz 280 SE, BMW, Lancia Gramma coupe and a beach buggy. He is in the process of establishing Pat Shange Promotions (PSP), a record production and promotion firm for handling budding artistes. 
During his performance at the Carnivore, this non-smoker and teetotaller was flanked by a bevy of agile and captivating beauties who also doubled as back-up vocalists and dancers. His one-hour appearance, opening with I Am Not A Casanova at 1.45 a.m.; also featured Sweet Mama, Undecided Divorce Case, Kamoliza, Anytime Baby and African Lady. 
Moreno: The legend lives on
For more than a decade, his characteristic deep quivering voice and animation-chants of "<ea_>Moreno aye mabe - Moreno amekasilika<ea/>!" ruled the air-waves. Many radio listeners and DJs found his songs irresistible. He had the same cutting edge on the local charts in which - from his 1981 hit-songs Dunia ni Duara and Pili Mswahili, to his 1993 blockbuster Vidonge Sitaki - he appeared on the hit parade with a frequency that had many musicians turning green with envy.
The death 10 days ago of the Kenya-based Zairean musician, Batamba Wenda Morris, a man many knew simply as Moreno, brings to a sudden halt one of the most illustrious recording career in recent times.
Moreno, who arrived in Kenya two decades ago, married a Kenyan, Anna Wangui, and had two children, died at his home in Dandora Estate, Nairobi. Early last month, he cut short a three-month tour in Dubai because of ill-health and returned to Kenya leaving behind his long-time colleague, Koko Zigo Mike, and other musicians who are still performing there.
Moreno mainly <-_sung><+_sang> in Kiswahili and the themes of his songs varied from social commentaries like Dunia ni Duara, Mapenzi ya Shinda and Mwanamke Hatosheki, to love songs like Angela and Pili Mswahili.
This last was a song about his girlfriend, Pili Mikendo Kassim, a Tanzanian model he met in 1976 while with Orchestra Les Noirs in Mombasa.
Born in Kisangani, Haut.Zaire Province of Zaire in 1955, Moreno quit school in 1971 to join Orchestra Marquis Sasa Bata. He later entered Uganda and in 1974 joined Orchestra Bana Ngenge of Jojo Ikomo, with which he travelled to Nairobi.
When the group broke up in 1976, Moreno and Ikomo were among the musicians who joined Orchestra Les Noirs, an outfit led by Kalembi Mukaputu "Kajos."
Ikomo and Kajos were to join TP OK Jazz later. Today, they play with Pepe Kale and Madilu System Bialu respectively. In the early and mid-Seventies, many Zairean groups and musicians left their motherland for West and East Africa. Some headed for Abidjan, Cote d'Ivoire, which they used as a spring board to France and Belgium. In this group were Sam Mangwana and Lokassa ya Mbongo, and their African All Stars outfit.
Another group crossed into Kenya through Uganda. It was the era when groups like Boma Liwanza of Shango Lola, Les Kinois of Samba Mapangala, Les Mangelepa of the now born-again Bwammy wa Lumwona, and Super Mazembe of Lonwa Didos had the "City in the Sun" reverberating with sounds and dance styles hitherto unknown in <-_Kenyan><+_Kenya>.
In 1978, Moreno left Les Noirs and headed for Dar-es-Salaam where he played with Orchestra Safari Sound and later, Kiauri Voice, before returning to Nairobi in 1980.
On arrival, Babu Shah Megs and Nderitu Munene discovered Moreno as "an untapped talent with a lot of potential. I was particularly impressed with  his command of Kiswahili at a time when "local" Zaireans spoke broken Kiswahili and most seemed to think it beneath them to speak it, let alone sing in it." says Megs.
Moreno's recording career began in earnest at the Megs stable where, using the Orchestra Moja One band, he did Dunia ni Duara, Manimba, and three other titles before going freelance.
Among his other hits then were Pili Mswahili, Vituko Majengo, Mapenzi ya Kisasa and Wakati Umefika.
These recordings of the early Eighties were an instant hit and won Moreno a big local following. They were action-packed and danceable, and were delivered with Moreno's characteristic deep quivering voice.
Like fellow Zairean musician Jimmy Moni Mambo of Orchestra Shika Shika (now living in Tanzania) and his long-time colleague, Koko Zigo Mike, Moreno was then a much sought-after recording artiste. With Moreno's voice and Koko Zigo's tenor, the two constituted a formidable duo when they occasionally paired on a recording.
"Moreno's biggest selling point was his voice. There was something unique about it," recalls Margaret Safari of <-_the> Kenya Blue Stars fame, who did three recordings with the late musician.
While his vocal range was vast, Moreno was best at bass and had a remarkable ability to restrain and quiver his voice-box. When idling in low gear, he could still comfortably outstrip <-/manyof> his nearest rivals when they were at full throttle.
The recordings - Sikutaki Tena, Shufaa and Aminata were produced by Betty Tett of Andrew Crawford Productions who says Moreno was "a very talented singer, music writer, composer and arranger. Once he set his mind on something, he was very hard-working, flexible and easy to work with."
Moreno and Safari occasionally shared the stage. An example is during their curtain-raising appearance during a Franco and TP OK Jazz concert at the Nyayo Stadium in 1986.
For some time in 1983, Moreno briefly played with Samba Mapangala's Orchestra Virunga in what was perhaps the group's most star-studded line-up ever.
The group which turned the now defunct Starlight Club into the hottest live-music nightspot in town, featured Koko, Fataki Lokassa, Manitcho Nsilu, Sammy Mansita, Django Mayombe and Bedjos Mikobi, among others.
The outfit later split three ways to create Vundumuna, Ibeba System and Virunga. But Moreno went solo.
In September 1984, Moreno with Madjo Maduley and a makeshift Orchestra Moja One literally stole the show at a major concert dubbed Music Marathon.
Soon afterwards, Moreno headed for Zaire - his first visit since he left his native land. He returned to Kenya in 1986 and clinched a recording deal with Andrew Crawford Productions.
He was to return to Zaire in 1989 after his younger brother, Josselyn Batamba, also a musician died in Kenya. On his return to Nairobi, Moreno brought along another brother, Ajigo Toxambi, who now plays with Angusha Band.
Josselyn's death was a traumatic experience for Moreno who momentarily sought solace in the bottle, almost drinking himself to oblivion.
Moreno had other frustrations then. Although he earned nearly Sh100,000 from the recording of an album like Aminata, he was angry that the cream of his artistic work was going to the producers. At one time, he even swore never to record again unless he produced himself.
To keep afloat during that absence from the recording studios, he operated a butchery in Dandora and, after finding it impossible to viably manage a "live" Orchestra Moja One band, decided to be hiring out  his Sh380,000 music equipment to churches.
"Maybe I will get God's blessings for that," he said last year.
Moreno said most local musicians remained poor because "producers always <-/riped-off> the artistes. They never gave accurate figures of accounts. After the producer came the pirate, making the artiste come a distant third."
But Moreno was to discover that self-production and distribution was easier said than done. 
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Blackboard
The heavy cost of sidelining the teaching of Kiswahili
Although Kiswahili - being an African language of Bantu and Arabic origin - is widely spoken in Kenya more than English, the development of Kiswahili literature has been highly outstripped by English literature. While Kiswahili literature by Kenyans remains malnourished, Kenyan authors continue to release English plays, novels, poems and children stories by the month.
There are varied explanations to this under-development of Kiswahili literature. Very few Kenyans can competently write coherent Kiswahili because the language has been sidelined for a long time in the country's system of education
One can accurately claim that the only way of making Kiswahili a recognisable language is through the current 8-4-4 system of education where it is now a compulsory subject at both primary and secondary levels. Hitherto it was not examined at the Certificate of Primary Education (CPE) examination and was an optional subject at secondary school level.
Dread
However, it remained a dreaded subject, particularly in many rural schools. Many students who developed an interest in the language were mainly from urban settings where Kiswahili was a lingua franca by virtue of the urban multi-ethnicity.
Kiswahili literature (<ea_>Fasihi ya Kiswahili<ea/>), introduced in 1973, however, remained a preserve of a few interested students. Out of 40,624 candidates who sat for the East African Certificate of Education (EACE) examination in 1974, a meagre 5,009 sat for the <ea/>Fasihi paper!.
Ironically, the English language continued to enjoy prominence as a compulsory subject at the EACE examination besides being the language of instruction in all other subjects. This background explains why many literate Kenyans today - even university graduates - cannot confidently speak or write grammatical Kiswahili. Yet most of them can beat the Englishman in his own language!
We can now guess why there are very few authentic Kiswahili novels by Kenyan authors. The dismal results of this marginalisation of Kiswahili are now glaring: We are compelled to turn to Tanzanian authors for virtually all <ea/>Fasihi <-/setbooks> in the KCSE examination.
Of the four texts to be examined from next year, three - Kusadikika by Shaaban Robert; Mashetani by Ebrahim Hussein and Kisima cha Giningi by Mohammed Said Abdulla - are authored by Tanzanians. The fourth, Masaibu ya Ndugu Jero, is a translation of Wole Soyinka's The Trials of Brother Jero. No Kenyan-authored book is to be examined in the Kenyan examination!
In fact, Tanzanian authors, like Ebrahim Hussein, Mohammed Suleiman Mohammed, Mohammed Said Abdulla and Said Ahamed Mohammed, have dominated Kenya's <ea/>Fasihi syllabus for a long time.
One finds an easy explanation for this. For Tanzania, Kiswahili is both an official and national language which has been adopted as the language of instruction in the country's system of education. Kiswahili has become part and parcel of Tanzania's total system such that a Kenyan who is heard to speak fluent Kiswahili is often said to speak it "like a Tanzanian".
We are, therefore, witnessing a scenario where the Kiswahili writer in Kenya has remained at the background. Mention Kenya's prolific writers and you are most likely to top the list with Ngugi wa Thiong'o, Francis Imbuga, Meja Mwangi - all writing in English.
On the other <-_had><+_hand>, a ranking of Kiswahili writers - whether one uses the forcefulness of penmanship or the frequency of authorship as a gauge - is most likely to start with Shaaban Robert, Mohammed Said Abdulla, Said Ahamed Mohammed and Mohammed Suleiman Mohammed.
This analogy does not, however, downplay the authorship of Kenyans like Prof Nyaigoti Chacha, Al Amin Mazrui, Prof Jay Kitsao, Prof Katama Mkangi, David Mulwa or even Yusuf King'ala.
But Dr Kitula King'ei of Kenyatta University's Kiswahili Department contends that Tanzanian authors are enjoying undeserved monopoly in the <ea/>Fasihi course to the detriment of Kenyan authors. "For many people <ea/>Fasihi has become synonymous with Tanzania. Why must we promote Tanzanian authors in Kenya at the expense of our own authors?" argued Dr King'ei.
He suggested that efforts should be made to translate English authors like Imbuga to enrich Kenya's Kiswahili literature.
However, one can argue that Tanzanian authors have justifiably monopolised the <ea/>Fasihi syllabus because their works are thematically and stylistically rich. They, therefore, offer more challenge to students than most Kenyan books.
Mashetani is, for instance, heavily loaded with symbolism, absurdity, the play-within-a-play technique, flashbacks and the dream motif. Its thematic fertility stems from its philosophical examination of Africa's neo-colonialism in a manner only parallel to Joe De Graft's Muntu.
Richness
Other Tanzanian novels, like Kiu, Nyota ya Rehema, Utengano, Duniani Kuna Watu, Dunia Mti Mkavu and Kizakatika Nuru, for instance, bear a vocabularic richness and captivating narrative technique which are arguably unequalled by any Kenyan-authored novel.
A Kiswahili teacher who sought anonymity argued that Kenyan Kiswahili playwrights are yet to make an impact. 
She claimed that Kenyan-authored plays, like Uasi, Malimwengu Ulimwenguni, Mafarakano na Michezo Mingine and Hatari kwa Usalama, which have once been all lined up as <ea/>Fasihi <-/setbooks>, are all wanting in thematic and stylistic renditions.
Self-censorship, she said, may be a major contributor to this weakness. Most Kenyans shy away from writing political plays for fear of rubbing authorities the wrong way. They are apprehensive that their books will either not be recommended as <-/setbooks> or they themselves will be "censored". 
Book News
Does transparency exist in book publishing corridors?
Kenyan publishers have often come under sharp criticism for allegedly continuing to publish old writers while shutting out budding ones.
But publishers are unanimous that good authors have become an endangered species.
There is hardly any new writer who is turning out a "publishable" manuscript.
However, budding writers are relentlessly expressing bitterness over what they see as the publishers' bias for old names.
"Any work out of the ordinary presented by a new writer is promptly slapped with a rejection slip. Meanwhile, they welcome manuscripts from old writers, however shoddy," argued Evans Kinyua.
This angry voice might paint the wrong picture that there is no "transparency" in the publishing industry.
It suggests that all professional ethics have been shelved and subjectivity reigns supreme in the publishing corridors.
Far from it. Any manuscript on any subject is given a fair assessment by the publisher's assessment regardless of its author. After a preliminary assessment, an editor can tell a potential manuscript from an "unpublishable" one.
Most manuscripts which are too poor do not go beyond this state. They are returned to the authors with a covering letter detailing weaknesses and possible amendments. 
A potential manuscript is assessed in-house first and then the editor commissions at least two external readers who are well versed in the subject matter.
Any information in the script which might reveal the author's identity is sealed to ensure an objective assessment. Therefore, there is little room that an assessor will know whether the author is "old" or "new".
The assessment addresses several aspects; appropriateness of subject matter, language problems (grammar and syntax), target audience, plagiarism, possible competition, dexterity for details, logical development of ideas and communicative power.
When all assessment reports have been assembled, the manuscript's fate is then determined by an editorial board on the basis of the reports. 
It may be rejected unconditionally, rejected with <-/sugestions> for improvement or accepted with suggestions for revision.
In all cases, the author is availed copies of the assessment reports and is at liberty to seek a follow-up discussion as many times as it has been amended.
The publisher meets all the costs of assessment, editing, typesetting, illustrations, design, printing, marketing and distribution of the author's work.
The author does not pay even a cent. In fact he stands to earn a royalty for as long as his book is in circulation. He might even successfully bargain for an advance royalty before his work is published.
It is therefore evident that maximum objectivity and <-/fairplay> obtains in the publishing industry. If there are any cases of "old" names which have been consistently published, it is because they have consistently turned out powerful manuscripts which cry for publication.
Potential authors are welcome any time to seek all manner of advice from publishers. These incentives and motivators are only available to those who show interest. 
No publisher is obliged to publish a manuscript that will only end up accumulating dust in the warehouse just because a potential author must be motivated.
The publisher, being a businessman, identifies needs through market research, develops the product, invests in its production and distribution with the aim of recovering financial investment from sales turn-over.
If publishers have been seen to mainly publish educational books, it is because that is where the market is. Publishers have to sustain their existence by breaking even. 
Like any businessman, they aim at satisfying the market needs at a profit. They stand to be blamed if they claim to publish yet they cannot service the society's educational system. 
In support of popular theatre for development
Any development programme can only succeed if its beneficiaries are fully involved in the design and implementation of the programme. This involvement ensures that the beneficiaries are given an opportunity to discuss and agree on their development priorities - as may be dictated by various cultural and economic factors.
In Culture and Development, Prof Mlama reviews the relation between culture and development, focusing on Popular Theatre as a specific approach towards incorporating a people's view on development.
She argues that the top-down development planning that denies the broad masses popular participation in the determination of their political, economic and social welfare has only helped to accentuate the failure of many development projects.
Yet, argues the author, developed countries are not really ignorant about the link between culture and development as shown by the fact that "development strategies which are basically designed to consolidate capitalism and imperialism in the developing countries have not neglected culture."
For instance, the cultures of colonialism and capitalism which the white man put in place in Asia, Africa and Latin America during colonial periods were developed and sustained by compatible education systems, religions, languages and arts.
This example goes to explain that the development plans hatched in Paris, New York or London and targeted at rural communities in Third World countries deliberately ignore the communities' culture because 'development' is not the real interest of the foreign planners.
The only path which Mlama prescribes for Third World leaders and policy makers is Popular Theatre - the employment of a variety of theatrical expressions at grassroots level to research and analyse development problems and to create a critical awareness and potential for action to solve problems.
The Popular Theatre approach to development which Prof Mlama advocates entails the presentation of a community problem through popular theatre forms such as plays, songs and dances. This is followed by a discussion of the problem and suggestions about possible ways of redress.
With examples from various parts of the world, the author shows that throughout history, theatre has functioned as a tool of shaping a people's consciousness above being an educational instrument. She shows how various proponents of the theatre-in-education movement and educationists have long recognised the vitality of drama as an effective tool of education.
Notwithstanding the awareness of the potential value of theatre, African educational systems have regrettably excluded it form the formal education system.
Instead, the author regrets, African art has been turned into political mouthpieces of government policies through the "airport or state banquet dances' syndrome, a popular practice among many African governments.
The author zeros in on Popular Theatre in Tanzania, giving cases of programmes organised among specific communities. The author, herself reputed for participating in various theatre programmes in many countries, offers interesting details on the theatrical process and the discussions and follow-up action that was involved in each programme.
She concludes that any government, development agent or person committed to the meaningful development of the world's poor and the true integration of people's culture into the development process, must inevitably take an interest in the Popular Theatre approach to culture and development. 
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Culture talk
The confusion that would be in the absence of language
In our lives we hardly think about what would happen to social intercourse if there was no language to facilitate communication. In the absence of such contemplation the central role that language plays is generally taken as an obvious fact of social life.
It is not surprising, therefore, that we take many daily statements, at their face value. This is why it sounds rather commonplace to state that language is used by man to communicate with other men.
Sometimes, however, when we fail to communicate with others we say that there is a communication breakdown, such as the famous one when the Tower of Babel was being built.
The goal here was to build a tower that would reach the heavens, but the endeavour was thwarted when the builders could no longer speak in one language.
Once they started speaking different languages the project was abandoned, and today, we refer to a scene in which confusion reigns or one in which people talk in different tongues as a "babel". 
In our daily communication such an assembly in which people hardly communicate is avoided for we have a fair agreement on what each word in our <-/vocabularly> designates or means.
Thus, as a result of accepted practice we, for instance, know what such words as "table", "house", and "mother' refer to.
Without such a convention communication would be rendered impossible because the moment a word refers to whatever each one of us would like it to refer to (but not what is conventionally or socially agreed upon), people would no longer be speaking the same language.
Arising out of such a situation, and discounting naughtiness and meanness as causes, we might be faced with an unpleasant scene in which when we are asked for food we instead serve the hungry with stones.
In such a case, and unless we of course want to appear mischievous, we use our knowledge of both the language we speak and the society we live in to avoid such a potentially explosive scene.
This means that once we are asked for food we take such an expression literally, that is, we understand that what we are being asked for is a substance to enable the hungry to live and grow.
Language, however, does not always communicate information literally. Instead, sometimes it contains anomalies whose presence makes it impossible for us to literally accept what we have been told. Thus, the moment a man says that <-/everytime> he sees a certain woman he "dies" because she is always dressed to "Kill" we can safely assume that the man is not talking about homicide.
Similarly the moment we say that a man is making a pig of himself, we do not mean that the man is being transformed into a four-legged grunting mammal, covered with bristles and feeding on swill.
The anomalies they contain notwithstanding, such expressions communicate because our experience both of the language and of the world demand that we do not take them as a matter-of-fact statements. 
Instead in one of our illustrations above our experiences help us to understand that by talking about a man in terms of a pig, we are associating him with some traits that are the preserve of a pig. In our illustration then what is being pointed out is that in his greed the man gorges himself with food or drink like a pig.
The question, then, arises:
Why do we talk about the man in terms of a pig (or talk in riddles, so to speak) instead of simply saying that the man is eating or drinking too much? One answer to this question is that the use of figures of speech to compare things is pleasing as it adds colour to our everyday speech.
In addition such comparisons enrich our understanding and therefore extend our knowledge, of the world we live in. At the same time, a comparison things that appear unlike, unrelated or dissimilar is surprising, and its novelty is a tribute to the capacity of the human brain to explore and <-/cognise> natural and social phenomena.
This capacity can be seen when we express our emotions in terms of what we see in nature. As a result when we attribute a natural quality to our emotions this transference hopefully helps us to understand their intensity.
This is what we try to do when we tell someone we love that she is our sunshine or that she brings sunshine into our lives.
Similarly, when a schoolboy tells his girlfriend that his love for her is as unquantifiable as the sand on the beach or as the stars in the heavens, he is attempting to make his overflowing feeling for her concrete and therefore comprehensible.
While such a comparison of love to sand and stars might sound trite and trivial to some people, artists usually give us comparisons that are so enriching and so pleasing that they extend our knowledge, or remind us of some home truths, in a fresh and surprising way.
In this respect, for instance, the beauty that we talked about last week has been compared to flowers in bloom.
In this way beauty is associated with, as well as understood in relation to, the fragrance and the glory of blossoming flowers. But, as  attribute these qualities to beauty, some writers give deeper understanding of the nature of beauty.
However, after their death flowers give birth to seeds that will in turn give rise to similar flowers in future. In this regard poets have reminded us that although it is impossible for us to recapture our vanished beauty we, just like these flowers, can recapture and hopefully immortalise it in our offspring. 
Culture Talk
Why the past has an appeal
Looking at some of the things that take place in their societies, older generations have been known to complain about the manners of the younger generations.
Manners, we have been told, make the man, and we can of course add that they also make the woman. This saying means that we judge a person's character by his manners. If he is of good behaviour we say that he is cultured or refined. However, if he lacks good manners we unflatteringly describe him as a person who is uncultured, uncouth, or even vulgar and <-_obsence><+_obscene>.
In short, therefore, it is a person's behaviour (including his affections and hypocrisy) that is the true measure of the quality of his character and of his <-/culturedness>.
This would explain why when we say that, defined as a mere way of life or referred to as a set of norms of behaviour, the word culture does not tell us enough about the moral content of a way of life. In other words, we are not told enough on how people should behave or what appropriate behaviour is. This is because an individual's (let alone a whole community's) sanctioned way of life is not always beyond moral reproach. Consequently, there are things that individuals do daily that we can hardly call cultured, in spite of them being practised as ways of life.
Such "culture" includes lack of courtesy in an individual's interaction with other members of the community. In contemporary society there are those who, for some reasons beyond the comprehension of many members of the community, have come to accept the jumping of queues as a desirable way of life. As they do this these people are oblivious of the insults they heap on the <-/culturedness> of the people who patiently wait their turn in a queue for services.
In our insensitivity for other <-_peoples><+_people's> feelings there are also those of us who lack respect for the elderly. Thus, at beat we do not show consideration for the elderly or the infirm in crowded waiting rooms and in public transport. Similarly, in what can be seen as a demonstration of lack of courtesy, there are those among us who deliberately bump into other people as we doggedly refuse to yield an inch of pavements and corridors that other people also have the right to use.
At worst, and in what can be seen as a lack of the manners we mentioned earlier, we sometimes use filthy or obscene language regardless of the people present. As if this was not enough, we also have heard of people who have been rude to - and have even assaulted - the elderly, including those who gave birth to them.
All this unbecoming behaviour can be rationalised as, and therefore excused on the basis of being, a way of life by some people. Further, these people can, summon law to their side and say that their actions are all right otherwise the law could have punished them.
However, the fact that these actions, frowned upon as they are by those who have been insulted and injured by them, are acceptable to some as a way of life does not in any way make them cultured. It is no wonder then that some people who find such actions disgusting yearn for days gone by when social behaviour was enforced through sanctions and curses. To such people a past society, in which elders were respected and in which obscene words were not bandied about, is revered as a <-/shangrila>.
Without going deeply into the nature of these societies, we can see that a yearning for them is sometimes motivated by a desire for <-/culturedness>. In other words, some of the people who long for past societies want to see a return of some aspects of <-/culturedness> that they find lacking in contemporary, but see them in past, societies. I would suggest that this helps to explain why as it yearns for a "paradise lost," an older generation sometimes forgets the morally reproachable ways of life in the past societies. 
Culture talk
Men are no longer what they were
Traditional manliness has been strained by modernisation. Going fast are the days when a man used to be the undisputed head of a home by virtue of his position as the main provider in an age when even clan land was controlled by men.
In areas where a man to a large extent provides the means of livelihood, however he is still recognised as the head of a household. However, in areas where this is not so he has been under siege, although he still has vestiges (some of little or no consequence) of traditional manliness.
This does not mean that he ceases to be the male of the species. He still is, but in an age when he is not the sole provider, some aspects of his traditional manliness are being undermined. Modern education has assaulted this undermined sense of manliness as men have witnessed women beating them in class, thus proving that intelligence is not the preserve of men.
As a result, by virtue of their education women now occupy positions of responsibility, once more demonstrating that they can execute responsibilities effectively. In addition, some of these women earn so much money (Sometimes surpassing what their husbands earn) that their husbands' authority, which emanates from the provision of family needs, is whittled down.
Such a situation could be a recipe for conflicts. In the end such conflicts do not enhance a husband's manliness at home. At the same time, the superiority (supposedly inhering on their masculinity) that such women's subordinates may want to stake their claims to is each morning assaulted when they see who wields authority where they work.
That situation has led to domestic violence against women as a "disciplinary measure". As a result of their education and financial security, some women will now not docilely accept a beating from their husbands. Instead they will fight back in some cases, some will even abandon a man who resorts to brawn instead of brain as a means of settling family disputes.
In addition to all this, there is the exposure that the modern woman has had from feminist movements. 
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Books 
Paper's fate hangs in the balance
With such famine as there is in parts of Northern Kenya, a publication like 'New Age' must appear a luxury
Hardly two years since its inception, the most promising literary publication in Kenya (and I dare say in East and Central Africa) is faced with the danger of going the same way all other literary and educational publications in East Africa have gone.
New Age, launched in January last year, might have to fold up, unless donor support funds to the tune of Sh1.8 million are urgently secured.
The publication, the brainchild of Otieno Amisi, a young literary enthusiast, came into being with the financial support of Ananda Marga Mission, a volunteer relief mission that is involved with a wide range of educational, hunger and medical support programmes.
Throughout last year, New Age won the hearts of many with scintillating literary, educational and cultural debates. The tabloid, depending largely on external writers, has attracted contributions and reactions from such scholarly and creative luminaries as Prof Chris Wanjala, Prof S. Atieno-Odhiambo, Taban Lo Liyong and Marjorie Oludhe-Macgoye.
In all, 12 editions were issued last year - essentially one issue a month. It is not stretching the truth to say that the publishers of New Age have acquitted themselves with speed, spice and credence. They have previously adroitly carried refreshing and provocative articles on such topics as the racial descent of the ancient Egyptians, based on Caetanya's book, The Restoration of African Greatness, in which the argument has been advanced that the ancient Egyptians (and indeed others like Moses of the Old Testament and Jesus Christ) were black Africans.
Also discussed in back numbers have been topics like slave trade and the decline of African civilisation, hunger in Africa, self-censorship in literature, the future of education in Kenya, the nagging problems of economic decline in Kenya, inflation, population ... one could go on for ever.
Then come 1992 and it soon becomes clear that all was not well. So far, only three editions of this magazine have been issued this year. The managing editor, Otieno Amisi, explains that this is due to the partial withdrawal of Ananda Marga Mission from the project.
When the publication was launched, Ananda Marga bank-rolled production fully. They also provided office space as well as financing other infra-structural needs. But, explains Amisi: "In recent months, it has been impossible for them to continue giving us this support because of the very growing number of emergency relief and social service projects they are involved in."
With such famine as there is in parts of Northern Kenya and other neighbouring countries, a publication like New Age must appear a luxury to any donor who is himself in the first place hard-pressed for finances. Indeed, Ananda Marga have indicated through their Mr Dada Ramaendrananda that they intend to pull out of New Age altogether.
Perhaps the picture would not be so bleak if advertisers honoured their commitment and paid up in time. Amisi reports that they are owed upwards of Sh140,000 from previous advertising in the magazine. "And it is unlikely that they will all pay up at the same time."
To try to save the situation, Amisi and three others, David Njenga Muhia, Castor Kweye and Mcloud Givonda, have recently registered a new company, Creative Ventures, which will fully take over New Age. The new company, which will operate as a non-profit making organisation, will be housed in Gill House, Nairobi.
Already appeals have been sent out to individuals, foundations, and other organisations to help contribute towards the Sh1.8 million Creative Ventures would initially require to keep afloat.
Whether this assistance will be forthcoming or not, only time will tell. What is clear, though, is that the hopes of many literary enthusiasts are once again hanging in the balance with New Age, as were, on the precipice. 
Telling the truth with a light touch
It was Ngugi wa Thiong'o who said that all writers are writers in politics. In a book by the same title Ngugi, (perhaps borrowing from the Greek philosopher Socrates who said that man is by nature a political animal) went on to say that the only distinction between one writer and the other is what and whose politics they write on.
Ngugi might, however, have gone on to emphasise that it matters too, and a great deal, how one writes about politics. Now this statement, although not altogether unstated before, has been emphatically and elaborately made by Prof John Ruganda in his latest publication.
Prof Ruganda's new book, Telling the Truth Laughingly: The Politics of Francis Imbuga's Drama, is fully devoted to the study of language and style in Francis Imbuga's plays. Of course one can only meaningfully appreciate style within the context of the subject in which the elements of that style operate and interact. In this particular case, one is interested in assessing the success of Imbuga's writing in politics - in this case a corrupt and censorious African political setting. This Ruganda achieves with a lot of ease.
It would also be useful to add that writing is not necessarily an end in itself. When one sets out to write, they of course want to share their views with others. But so what after that?
In studying the politics of Francis Imbuga's drama, Ruganda sees Imbuga as having the mission of correcting political and other social <-/falacies>. He sees this mission as being of fundamental importance in the style Imbuga has elected to use. Comparing Imbuga with such other Kenyan writers as Ngugi, Jared Angira, and the late Leonard Kibera, Ruganda observes that Imbuga's dramatic strategies are grounded in devices of assuagement which admonish the social offender, while giving him an opportunity to be rehabilitated."
This observation is lent credence by Imbuga's own remarks when he told a writers' workshop in 1986 that "the creators of oral narratives managed to educate the evildoer without making him feel uncomfortable ... the performers sought to change society through persuasion and through threats of punishment, however well deserved."
Ruganda identifies a wide range of evil-doers who could be corrected by Imbuga's drama. They are not just dictatorial heads of state who, with their corrupt and equally dictatorial henchman, rape economies and stash millions of shillings away in fat foreign bank accounts. No. These evil-doers include self-righteous people like you and I who think that we are "Mister clean" or "Madam clean", yet if we were to stop for a moment and reflect more closely on Imbuga's drama, we would perhaps appreciate more readily our own wretchedness.
In a chapter headed 'Alienation and Imbuga's Dramatic Strategies,' Ruganda examines a wide range of strategies that Imbuga has employed to educate us without making us feel excessively ill at ease.
Of necessity, before he can reach and educate any of us, he must first skip the censor's dragnet. To achieve this, Imbuga carefully avoids preaching to the repressive polity. Like Osman in his Man of Kafira he appreciates the fact that others have previously used "swear words" at the polity but failed. Imbuga, Ruganda notes, therefore avoids confrontational polemics or any other strategies that would invite the heavy hand of the censor.
This is possibly why Imbuga's plays have been spared the tragedy that has befallen such other plays as Ngugi's Ngahika Ndenda, Alamin Mazrui's Kilio cha Haki or Joe de Graft's Muntu whose staging Kenyan authorities have in the past banned or barred. Ruganda points out the contradictions in this banning of staging of plays where, he notes, that some of the plays whose staging has been refused have nonetheless stayed on as national examination set books! Kilio cha Haki and Muntu are a <-_cases><+_case> in point. Even when the government rejected their performance they went on to be examined at school certificate level for several years!
A related device that Imbuga employs in educating us is that of disguising the intended victim by placing his plays in imaginary lands. This way he also affords those who study or watch the plays the ability to discuss them without the fear of punishment from the authorities.
But it is perhaps in the use of what Ruganda calls serio-comic characters that Imbuga succeeds best. In Betrayal in the City, The Successor and Aminata, for instance, Imbuga creates some comic characters whose utterances will steadily keep the audience laughing. The use of these clownish characters, Ruganda asserts is not coincidental. Ruganda believes that these characters have been created to state the truth that would be anathema, coming from more "intelligent" members of society.
One feels that Ruganda stretches the truth at this point. Mulili in Betrayal in the City, for instance, is one such character. He is first cousin to the head of state. He is a semi-literate fellow who speaks broken English to the delight of the audience. He is also an informer and greedy individual who uses his proximity to his powerful cousin to enrich himself through threats, intimidation and boot-licking.
Ruganda says that this chap's use of broken English in a "society which lionises the English language" is a deliberate  attempt to "liberate himself from its fetters by evolving a functional dialect which is peculiarly his own".
Nothing could be further from the truth. This interpretation of Mulili is, at the very best, wishful thinking. Mulili is simply a villain and a clown. As Ruganda himself states, Imbuga's plays have been influenced by events in Africa. Betrayal in the City was written when Idi Amin was wreaking havoc in Uganda. It is quite possible that Imbuga was sparked off by events in Uganda. Mulili is in very many ways like Idi <-/Amini>. And so is his cousin, Boss. It could have been quite possible for Imbuga to have merged Mulili and Boss into one character. But, perhaps for purposes of sustained comic relief and for purposes of showing what kind of fellows hang on to the coat-straps of power as a result of crony-capitalism and nepotism under dictatorship, Imbuga may have decided to split the two characters. 
Another character whom Ruganda erroneously credits with similar creativity is Agege in Aminata. Both Agege and Mulili are meant to be admonishing erudite members of African society and getting them to rethink their "lionising" of English. 
Ruganda's book is however a most welcome attempt to give the first major in-depth and comprehensive attempt to study the drama of Francis Imbuga within not only the context of African drama, but to a good measure, the context of world drama. Without stretching credibility, interesting parallelisms have been drawn between Imbuga's style and that of such other all-time dramatic maestros as Bertolt <-/Bretch>, <-/Engene> Ionesco and more especially within the theatre of the absurd. 
The story of the African dictator that's apt for all
New novel is compulsory reading for every citizen of the continent
In many parts of the world, leaders come and go. Not in Africa. African leaders are "live presidents", either overtly or covertly. The one thing the African citizen is for ever exposed to is the exhortation by political surrogates that he is lucky to live where he lives.
The African head of state is a very mysterious being. He is an all-knowing, benevolent father of the nation. There is absolutely nothing he does not know. He is simply a fountain of knowledge and wisdom. Those who live in his country should be thankful that God placed them there and gave them such a wise and God-fearing leader, who ostensibly goes by the name "His Excellency", "Father of the Nation" or "Philosopher". The ridiculous nature of such <-/mysterisms> has, fortunately, not always been lost to all African citizens. At least not to Malawi's Tiyambe Zeleza, as is manifest in his new book, Smouldering Charcoal.
This is the long, sad tale of an African nation in the suffocating grip of a <-/tyranical> leader. In this un-named state, Our Leader reigns supreme. Everyone must toe Our Leader's line or quit. 
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The written word
Boost for Christian publishing
The hall at the Pentecostal Church, Valley Road, was recently aglow with excitement as crowds thronged there to peruse a display of books by the Evangel Publishing House.
An event that Pastor Dennis White should be truly proud of, the display was dubbed Bookfest 94, and is the second in a series begun last year. It also provided the opportunity for the launching of three new titles, as well as the awarding of prizes for a writing competition organised by Evangel.
The books launched were on a diversity of subjects, and included The Bible and Islam by M. Madany, The Fruits and Gifts of the Holy Spirit by S. Omolo and Aids: The Biblical Solutions by D. Clarke. A special prayer of dedication was offered for the new books.
The writing competition had been organised to mark the 40th anniversary of Evangel Press, which has over the years risen to become the largest Christian publisher in Africa South of the Sahara, and which has produced a diversity of titles that will appeal to all classes of readers.
According to Bruce Brand, the Managing Editor, the competition was organised with a view to identifying writing talent among Christians. Twenty seven entries were submitted by 23 authors, which Bruce considers to be quite encouraging.
After careful screening by Evangel staff, a short-list was arrived at, with four books for each of the two categories - the Christian children's story and the Christian adult fiction - that attracted writers.
A fourth category, on daily devotions, did not attract any entries, and so the prizes for it were withheld. According to Bruce, the lack of interest in this category was probably because it was too technical and required a lot of research.
It also required writers to produce daily devotions for a whole year or else write a general devotional book. These efforts, according to Bruce, would require a writer to produce between 110,000 and 180,000 words within a fairly limited period, a daunting task for even the most seasoned writer.
The judging criteria for the entries received were rigorous and very objective, and the independent judges appointed by Evangel were not given any hints about who the writers were.
According to Bruce, all identifying marks were removed before manuscripts shortlisted were handed over to the judges, and there was therefore no chance of the judges being tempted to favour anybody.
Surprisingly, the winners included well-known personalities in the arts, among them female novelist Pat Wambui Ngurukie, the renowned author of Soldier's Wife, Tough Choices and Businessman's Wife.
A beaming Wambui took the Sh8,000 cash prize for the second best entry in the Christian adult fiction category.
The first prize in this category was won by Elizabeth Nkiruka Ngewa, a Nigerian married to a Kenyan. Clutching her Shl0,000 cheque, Nkiruka, who is a lecturer in theology at the Nairobi Evangelical Graduate School of Theology, explained that this was her first attempt at serious writing and that she was surprised by her performance.
The first prize for children's fiction was won by Kristy Bowler, a Canadian born and bred in Kenya, where her parents worked as missionaries for many years. Her entry, Kali, pipped Mistaken Identity by Ezekiel Alembi to second place. Alembi is a lecturer in drama and children's literature at Kenyatta University.
Praising the high quality of the entries, including Ngewa's Called by a Special Name and Ngurukie's The Patient, a delighted Richard Ondeng', the Managing Director of Evangel Press, promised that all the titles will soon be published.
The authors praised their families for the support and encouragement they had given them. Nkiruka said it was her children who made her start writing. Saying that she had discovered that there was little relevant Christian literature for them to read, she explained that her husband, Dr Samwel Ngewa, who incidentally teaches - of all things - new testament Greek, had supported her during the writing period. 
Pat Ngurukie also said that her children are her major inspiration. In fact, she explained, they had taken an active part in her creative endeavours. Her three daughters, Corrinne, Rachel and Yvonne had actually edited her story, while husband Colonel Joe Phillip Ngurukie had given her all the moral support she needed.
Alembi also paid tribute to his spouse, Patricia, an accountant who nevertheless always takes the trouble to read through his manuscripts and make useful comments. Kristy now lives in Vancouver.
Going by the number of entries received in each category, it is obvious that Christian publishing has a lot of scope, and it is hoped that other religious publishing houses will follow the lead of Evangel in motivating writers. 
The written word
Time to unearth our hidden literary gems
You remember once sitting at the National Theatre bar in the company of an elderly man of letters. The evening was cold and dreary, and the murmur of voices around us was depressing, forlorn, lacking the usual tinge of excitement and hope. Those were heady days, and the general creative drive was evidently at a terribly low ebb.
Presently we were joined by a young man who was, like everybody else, in very low spirits. soon he was ranting about how everything in his life had taken a down turn, how nothing seemed to be working. The turrets of his creative mechanisms were only producing blanks, and this frustrating state of affairs had stretched his nerves to the end of the tether.
The young man's name was Martin Gumba. Not long before, he had taken the creative world by storm with his play, Submission Unlimited, a sorrowful yam about the plight of workers in a set-up where all their rights were ruthlessly trampled upon by employers with hearts of stone.
The play had opened to unusually flattering reviews, and its success was a miracle of modem times, especially for a relatively new addition to the theatre world. Though apparently never published, for whatever reasons, Submission Unlimited to this day remains one of the best original plays to have come out of this country.
Now seated at the National Theatre bar this evening, the young playwright's creative mood was anything but bustling and according to him he was currently hamstrung by the debilitating inability to produce anything worth writing home about, no matter how hard he racked the deeper recesses of his creativity.
Well, you remember sympathising with Martin and understanding the pain of his predicament: anyone who has been caught up in a no-go creative impasse knows just how much misery it entails. Ask any scribe working for this paper!
Unfortunately for Martin, our elderly man of letters this evening did not seem to have
much sympathy for him: After listening for a while to the young man's moans and groans, the Mzee got into a thoroughly remonstrative mood and, letting out a stream of epithets, told the young man that he had no business expecting any sympathy for his own indolence. The only way out of his present rut, the Mzee told the young man, was to get off his rear end and do some work.
Whereupon Martin, finding the present atmosphere a bit too hostile for comfort, decided to take his leave, and you remember accompanying him to a sizzling spot on the <-/unChristia> end of Tom Mboya Street where you ended up gawking at a crazy act that would have driven the moral re-armament fellows round the bend.
Whether or not this escapade lifted Martin's spirits you cannot recall, but reminiscing with him recently about the bad old days you also learnt that he long ago overcame his creative drawbacks and has been writing a lot of plays for the radio. One of these plays, simply titled Listen, is included in a veritable treasury of African theatre published by Germany's Nomos Publishers in collaboration with Radio Deutsche Welle.
This 358-page collection, titled African Radio Plays and published in 1991, offers a truly stunning kaleidoscope of just how much creative energy the African theatrical world can unleash when given a chance. Containing 23 plays from around the continent, this collection edited by Wolfram Frommlet will take a lot of effort to beat.
Other Kenyan plays included in the collection are Three Brides in an Hour by the ever prolific Bole Oda, Dilemma by Kottia Tsotsi and two plays by James Ochieng-Odero titled Beer and The Mad King-beggar of the Bus-park. These plays and others in the collection make this anthology an indispensable collector's item for anybody interested in African theatre.
Not to be outdone is a sequel, African Radio <-/Narrations> and Plays, also edited by Frommlet and published by Nomos in 1992. A collection of 24 <-/narrations> (read "short stories") and five plays, this book has creative works from 11 African countries, and is as rare a gem as its predecessor.
Among the short stories is The Parking Boy, a masterpiece by the ever-green Sam Kahiga, while Omondi Mak'Oloo, a journalist and one-time secretary of the Writers Association of Kenya, has contributed Matatu Menace. The main character in this latter play is surprisingly a <ea/>matatu named Take Me Home. This is a good <ea/>matatu, for a change, which finds its owners and operators thoroughly crazy. Mak'Oloo's personification of the vehicle is a clever means of analysing the notorious scourge of <ea/>matatus.
Which takes us back to Martin Gumba. Were it not for the recent mirthful chat about that daunting creative impasse many years ago, we would not have known about the existence of the present two collections, nor about the fact that one of his plays has taken pride of place among the very best from the African continent.
Indeed, it was Martin who prompted us to trot along to the Goethe Institut and, with the patient assistance of Ursula Moller, the chief librarian, find the creative gold mine that the two anthologies constitute. Our real surprise at finding this bonanza, after much digging, makes us wonder just how many other literary gems lie hidden in other unsung, obscure publications.
All this raises the question of just how much importance is placed on book distribution, which is critical in ensuring that as many people as possible have access to new works. Nomos, if you are reading us, please do distribute these two masterpieces a bit more widely. 
The written word
Best contribution yet from a "man of letters"
"He has come up with a text that no teacher or student of oral literature can do without"
Few people in this country can match the contributions of Okumba Miruka to the world of culture and the arts over the years. Literary and art critic par excellence, this trained teacher seems to possess boundless energy, and his contributions in both the print and electronic media are impressive.
Explaining his philosophy in life recently, Okumba, as he is commonly known, said determination was a critical prerequisite for success in any field. It is obvious his stamina has been fed by an intrinsic never say die attitude and constitution.
"The river must reach its destination," he says, "any barriers we find in life must be overcome!"
True to his philosophy, Okumba has overcome heavy odds to become a leading actor in the country's intellectual forums.
Having attended Kenyatta University and studied English language, literature and education, his intellectual endeavours have recently culminated in the publication of Encounter with Oral Literature, a book that even his former dons at Kenyatta will agree is one of the best on the subject.
The 194-page thoroughly documented book follows A Dictionary Of Oral Literature which he co-authored with Leteipa ole Sunkuli. This book published by Heinemann (now East African Educational Publishers) in 1990, and it has now become an indispensable reference book for teachers of oral literature.
Okumba, who is the vice-chairman of the Kenya Oral Literature Association (KOLA), has also published Handling Technical Terminology in Teaching Oral Literature for KOLA.
This work, published earlier this year, is also bound to be extremely useful to teachers of the genre.