Sunday, 30 June 2013

money + culture

BNPA Awards 2010
Money & Culture

Making Modern Love

We are not like provincial lovers
Who wait to stalk funerals
That bring opportunities of replacing the departed,
Under the watch of the night, in verdant shambas.

Armed with cash
We’ll open our hearts
On a plate of chips, with a soft drink
Things to nibble and sip, but not too large to distract
Maybe chaps? Muchomo and beer later?
Chips chicken will soften us for now,
And for future food that you commonly acknowledge is delicious.

If you should stare in pockets so deep
 That the residential wallet is unseen by short fingers
Soon enough other networks become sexy,
Offering side dishes and desserts
For we’ll soon meet other friends with longer arms
And stronger charms.

It is constantly recommended by wily winners
That going dancing eases misgivings
In tender bones,
Unlikely to be tempered by the softness of night lights.
But if all is careening towards a cold spell
Drinks should be laid out till we are released from thinking.

I saw a secondary virgin sobbing at a table for two
Weighed down by the meanings of disease.
I saw a man who had become a man
For he knew now, how close he was to the deceased
and vaguely inundated with curses of, “Shit happens.”
stumbled away with thoughts that grew from booze
 and the dregs of making modern love.

So while good things begin to afflict us now
And beautiful things course through dull heads,
Causing wings of desire to grow like mushrooms in a mist
Of opportunity,
At last. We shall soon make modern love.

Sophie Alal,winner of 2010 BNPA, under the theme, Money and Culture


It’s the fragrance, mother;
the intoxicating crispy fragrance
of colored newly mint coinage.
Sometimes the shimmering glitter
of gold or silver.
It matters not mother
what figures are imprinted on,
just the fragrance!

The fragrance that drives me
to plunder my core,
to pillage my country to nothing,
squandering it to desolation.

The fragrance that possesses me
to bare my nakedness to them,
to vend my soul’s worth,
to trade my country’s worth!

The fragrance that devours me
 and sparks hunger pangs,
coercing me to crave and covet theirs
staining my hands with blood !

It’s the fragrance mother;
the musky musty odor
of old and used notes,
sometimes the dull hue of coinage
that quenches my thirst and ardor!

It matters not mother
what figures are imprinted on
Just the fragrance mother!
Just the fragrance.


He roughly pushes through the populous kikubo lane.
The titanic load on the head sinking his neck into his torso forcing his body to dwarf.
“Fasi..Fasi…”his mouth cries hoarsely, his tougue licking riverets of sweat off his hard
Muscled face. His rapid pace slows, at the bounds of the thick crowd, his eyes blindly staring at the shoes of those in front of him, waiting hopefully for them to give space.
A sharp pain cut into his left ear like water puffed through the nose.
The rhythmical throbbing of his heart climbing to the head                                                                                         he felt hot. So hot that it hurt….
His blood boiling at an increased degree.
His head pounding hard as it swayed upfront and back.
“A voice was calling….”
His hands weakened letting loose of the load, suddenly his head felt heavy as his whole body slipped away from his will to reach his destination,
“Aim not going to be paid…..” His mind concluded.
He felt his head thinning, separating from the load at the jet of his breath as he fell on top of his face.

NakisanzeSegawa, 3rd winner BNPA 2010, under the theme Money and Culture

The 2013 Awards Poetryceremony took place this weekend:


previously on this blog:

Poetryceremony ~ the theme is Hope

BN Poetry Award ~ Uganda woman poets
Beatrice Lamwaka & Beverley Nambozo Nsengiyunya

forthcoming in the series:

2009 ~ Open Call 

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