Ways in Which Nairobi
Half Life moved me. An open letter
I
read all the time that WE ARE ONE. Sometimes I
practice
this truth. Most times I forget. I let the cares of my life, my struggles, my
hustle, my dreams, my desires drown me in the sea of self. Inevitably, a drowning
person will fight to break to the surface, and on these forced trips to breathe
in, I find there is more to life than self. My problems and cares are not the
end all of reality.
Tonight
(as in last Thursday 22nd Nov 2012) was such a night ( I was a
little afraid of the EMO that is this blog so I been hesitating. But I’m over myself
now)
I
just got back from an all-important strategy and planning meeting. So full of well-intentioned
and self-serving ideas for how to further promote my ideas. Then I went to
watch Nairobi Half Life. I agree, I am late to the party. Never you mind that.
This blog post is directly because I am moved to my core (spoilers alert. If
you have not watched it..I'm about to say some things so stop)
First,
I am moved by the sheer brilliance of the script, of the actors, the directors,
the makeup, the set design, the soundtrack. I sat in the movie theatre and
ached. This is what art looks like when its real and its for real. Art is raw.
It is sincere. It is light and intense simultaneously. It is true and we know
it because we instinctively connect. This is why they say art is powerful. I
sat there completely immersed in this movie that 'me' did not exist.
I
became Mwas. Even now I taste the bitter sweet headiness of chasing a dream. Mwas
made me remember how many times I am so naïve, so clueless, so fearless. Mwas
made me think of those decisions & actions I refuse and fear to fully own because
of the mess I made, and yet I cannot take back because of the mess I made. In
those moments I was watching the movie..and indeed in this one as I write
this..I think of all those people who come up to me/facebook me/write me an
email saying they want to sing but don't know what to do next. They want my
help but I hardly know what to say or do. Sometimes, I make suggestions- voice
classes, choir, BGV for a band, intern for a musician. Most times, I feel terrified
to say a thing. I am no saviour. I have no answers. I can't fix anyone’s life.
Often, musicians at all stages of their career ask me to let them play at
Blankets & Wine. Some are good- they get in. Some are bad. Some just need
more time. Some I can't see how to schedule alongside what currently exists. Then
comes the dread! I cannot bear to say these things to them. After all, who the
hell I'm I to say these things? I have been dropped off a national singing
competition. I have been thrown off stage by a marketing director who hated my
songs after the first min. I have sung off key on stage. I have had an audience
stare at me in confusion. I have had my heart broken and my confidence
shattered a hundred times. And I became better for it- eventually. But I never
forget the way it feels when you're at the bottom and just trying to catch a
break. So, I say nothing. I spend endless hours second guessing myself..what if
they are the next Sauti Sol or The Beetles? What if I am missing something? I'm
I missing something? I hardly ever really know. My life feels like an elaborate
guessing game. Mwas- a boy from 'nowhere' and with nothing but his heart on his
sleeve took me all the way into the very centre of mine. So, first up..this is
for every rapper, every singer, every instrumentalist who ever asked me for an opinion
or a chance. Every one of you who has had the idea to share your dream with me.
Please know I heard you. I recognize you. I carry that part you shared in my
being. You affected/affect me because I am like you. Longing for the same
things you do: expression, acceptance,validation,fame&fortune,hapiness,mastery,legendary
status. I too spend endless hours seeking for direction, guidance, gigs, lyrics,
melodies. I battle the same fears: what if I don't make it? I'm I good enough
or any good at all? Is this it? Will I ever get to the end of this rainbow? To every
one of you that has felt hurt by my feedback or worse, felt ignored by my
silence- please forgive me. People- you and I included- only do what they think
they can, based on what they think they know. And just like me, your dreams are
valid. Your hope is real. And the best I can say is if you determine that its
meant to be..then even the gates of heaven could not stop you.
In
the meantime between now and your big break..the world will shake you, but it
cannot break you.
Then
there was Oti and his whole crew. YOLO. Living la vida loca. Going down a road
whose end is guaranteed. Thug life. And there I was. One with them. I have
never robbed anyone let alone killed anything bigger than a cockroach. But my
father was murdered at our gate while driving in from friday evening mass, minding
his own business. So Oti takes me there. I see Oti being so reckless with his
life, high on the power trip of a gun. Of course, there was no other way it
could end right? You live by the gun- you die by it. So why do I flinch when he
is killed? I flinch. I did not want him to die like that. I have no problem
with death-its a lifetimes guarantee(literally) but what a wasted life! What a
broken heart for Mwas, for Oti's family, for life! My dad..he lived an amazing
life. His life was full. He was fulfilled. He found his place on earth and I am
sure he found his place in the stars. But what about Oti! What about my dads
killer who was naturally gunned down in a most dramatic and traumatic police
operation!What about these lives and all other lives attached to theirs! How
funny that even as I remain connected to my dad in death, I would -just for a
moment thanks to Oti- be connected to my dads killer too. And what poetic justice
that I would think these thoughts and feel these things on my fathers ten year
memorial. Ha! (AGAIN this was meant to be up last Friday morning)
I
was Mwas. I was Amina. I was Oti. I was part of the cast. Part of the crew.
Part of this mad, massive story/reality. Part of each singers/drummer/poet/instrumentalists
dream. Part of my father. Part of his death and its circumstance. I was
situations, decisions, cause, effect. I was me. And I was not me. And I was
more me. I was all-we.
How
perfect Nairobi Half Life is! How perfect life is.
