Being naked: New literary journal

An essay of mine about walking barefoot through a Kenyan village with activist and writer, Philo Ikonya is featured in Algebra, Tramway’s exciting new digital literary journal. Walked in 2009 as part of my walking and writing project, I'm thrilled to see the piece appear here for the first time.

Developed in partnership with Storm ID, Algebra is edited by writer Beatrice Colin, and the first issue includes fiction, poetry, memoir, photography and visual art from a range of contributors. Take a look here!

'The theme, borrowed from Keith Farquhar’s recent exhibition More Nudes in Colour, Glasgow, is nude or nudity, and the range of pieces include a story inspired by the Art Deco painter Tamara de Lempick, as well as a set of poems that focus on the body. Elsewhere, writers go on barefoot walks or present a personal history of tattoos, stand naked in their kitchens or examine the spaces, both emotional and physical, that are usually hidden from view.'

Love, water, and the world of literature

Last year a small group of us who are members of Scottish PEN -- and therefore either writers, or professionally engaged with literature -- set up a new online magazine. For each issue (now two a year) we propose a theme, and invite submissions from Scottish PEN members, and from people living in Scotland who are either writers in exile, or who are non-native English speakers trying out writing in English; often refugees or asylum seekers.

It's been a fascinating process, selecting work from the submissions, then seeing how the pieces chime with each other and flavour the magazine with the places and experiences they evoke.

PENning Water, the current issue, has been one of the most exciting in terms of quantity and diversity of response. Writers from Scotland, Zimbabwe, Shetland, Pakistan, Congo, Syria, and Sri Lanka take us on a journey through watery celebrations, transformations, memories and fears in poetry and prose.

In each issue we also feature a piece from a writer who works in some way with PEN and who brings a unique international perspective on writers and writing. So far, amongst others, we've featured Chew-Siah Tei, writing about her experience of the Jessie Kesson residency on the snowy hilltop at Moniack Mhor; and Philo Ikonya, writing about reinvigorating PEN Kenya in recent years, and the kind of problems writers are up against there, which we do not experience in Britain.

In the current issue Aminatta Forna has written for us about writers in Sierra Leone as they recover from war. I remember once talking to someone who worked with seriously traumatised people in refugee camps around the world. He told me that what these people talk about tends not to concern their recent traumas but focuses on the superficial, such as who fancies who. In her piece, 'Love stories', Aminatta charts the preoccupations of writers gathered together in PEN’s name in Sierra Leone, and what has inspired their subject matter over the last ten years as the trauma of war continues to resonate.

Aminatta's most recent novel 'The Memory of Love' is one of the best I've read this year -- moving, beautifully written, and remarkable for its penetration of the minds of both European and African characters. As her website describes, it ‘transports us to an African city, where a dying man Elias Cole, reflects on a past obsession: Saffia, the woman he loved, and Julius, her charismatic, unpredictable husband. Arriving in the wake of war Adrian Lockheart is a psychologist new to this foreign land, struggling with its secrets and the intensity of the heat, dust and dirt, until he finds friendship in Kai Mansaray, a young colleague at the hospital. All three lives will collide in a story about friendship, love, war, about understanding the indelible effects of the past and the nature of obsessive love.’ Read reviews here.

What I love about my involvement with PEN is a sense of connection and solidarity with a whole world of writers and with issues that really matter to freedom of expression. PEN has taken me on journeys to Senegal (pictured above: writers gathered on Goree Island during the PEN Congress 2007) and Kenya, and further through the literary conveyance of imagination. For me it’s about being a writer with a global interest and conscience, a reaching out to other writers and literatures.

Are you a writer or literature professional in Scotland and not a member of PEN? Please consider joining. Oh, and get writing, the next issue is PENning Courage.

Kenya's Son

The village of Kogelo in western Kenya would now like to update the name of its secondary school to take account of recent world events. From the bus travelling west out of Nairobi into the streets of steamy Kisumu on Lake Victoria, we heard, along with the distinctive 'tuk tuk' of the Paiggio auto rickshaws, the streets drumming with the words 'Obama' and 'Kogelo'. My friend Philo, probably because she was with me, was hailed as 'Michelle' in the streets, taken for a black American. In Jomo Kenyatta park, huge banners and monstrous screens were erected, and a line of people directed the hose of the fire engine to damp down the loose red earth in preparation for crowds whilst children leaped in and out of the spray.

'Kogelo?' asked a matatu minibus driver, leaning from his window, hand cupped upwards in the usual gesture of query for business. 'Yes we can'. Kogelo was the place to be on 20th January, and we crossed the equator to get there. For a moment it seemed that the world's attention turned onto this tiny place on a high red dust plain between boulder strewn hills and the Lake.

The party brimmed with pride and happiness. 'You're welcome,' said elderly women and men holding leather-skinned hands out to me. 'Congratulations,' I replied. They stood near the staged seating, hats and dresses of dignitaries brought to the Kenya Tourist Board stand from where a programme of speeches and performances could be watched. A flour company gave away free calendars to an ever-lengthening queue as if it was flour itself that was being given - the much-disputed maize. A company from nearby Kericho trialled iced tea.

A camel with knobbly knees was regularly brought crumpling to the ground and re-erected to be led through the crowd with stiff faced children lurching on its back, to the screams of the parting crowd and children pursuing it on the ground. A few traders from Nairobi had brought Obama khangas, hats, T-shirts. Phone companies flashed brightly coloured logos and shirts. Village women sat quietly on the ground selling their usual piles of peanuts for a few shillings. Amongst this and the local football match, amidst the atmosphere of a village fete, an ABC reporter spent the afternoon standing on the bonnet of a land cruiser with a camera trained on him, a producer scurrying at ground level with phones and instructions. Music throbbed from local radio PA systems, and some boys swayed from the branches of the highest tree to get an overview.

We were there to sell and promote Philo Ikonya's book for young readers 'How a Kenyan boy became American President'. We spread them on the bonnet of our taxi. I played the hawker and circulated the party encouraging people to take a look. Children crowded in, devouring the words from the page with shy hunger, but 200 shillings (a little under £2) was too much for most to be spending on a book. One boy was wheeling his siblings around on a bicycle. In Form 7 of the local school, he showed persistent interest in the book and was able to answer all Philo's questions about Nelson Mandela. She presented him with a signed copy as a tribute to his brightness and for the message the book should hold for him about fulfilling one's promise however humble one's beginnings. He clutched the book with pride and said, 'It is not easy to find someone who gives you something for free.'A group of young men called me over, wanting to speak of the new President. 'We expect him to help us a lot. Because he was here with us. Her knows the situation. The life is too rough. We don't have food. We don't have water. We don't have enough fee for the education.' I nod and agree, sympathise, and ask, 'Are you expecting a lot from yourselves as well?' to which spokesman, Bernard replied, 'Correct', but went on to reiterate what they expect from the President, the son of this village. 'Congratulations,' I said to them. 'Welcome, welcome,' they said. 'Feel at home. Feel at home. And even, if you think so, we can even marry you.' After which came hand slaps and shrieks of laughter. I mingled back into the crowd, moving between the pools of music that beat and pushed against each other, moved feet and hips, and fluttered against the tree-hung banners of a smiling black man's face under which were the words 'Congratulations Our Son'.

We packed the books up and returned to Kisumu where bookshops and local NGOs took them more readily than the village could. 'You know,' people told us over and over, 'Kenyans don't really read.' It seemed to me that our exercise had shown something quite different. The children leaning over the car bonnet hungrily turning the pages of the book couldn't have been more eager to read. The real difficulty is getting the books to them.

Philo Ikonya released

Philo Ikonya, President of Kenyan PEN, was arrested and beaten by police earlier this week after taking part in a peaceful demonstration outside parliament in Nairobi in protest against hyperinflation and the rising prices of maize flour at a time of impending famine in Kenya.

I have now heard that she has been released, appeared in court yesterday and was released on bail along with the two others arrested with her. She is in hospital and is making a good recovery from the injuries sustained during the police assault.

Her case has apparently received a lot of media attention in Kenya and she is receiving support from Kenyan PEN and local campaigners. She is famous, in words from the Pambazuka social justice network, for she, 'wields her pen with fierce, lyrical intelligence in the global media'. The network of writers which is represented by PEN International will do all they can to offer solidarity, support and practical help so that she can return to strength in her important role and as the inspiring person that she is.

PEN Kenya President arrested

Reports have been reaching me today that friend, writer and PEN colleague, Philo Ikonya, has been arrested outside the Kenyan Parliament during a peaceful protest about the price of maize and the connected corruption scandal. She remains unreleased and without charges. Having just returned from a trip to Kenya in which I spent a great deal of time with Philo, I have witnessed her passion for grassroots change to overcome corruption, an emerging famine, and remaining murmurs of the damaging tribalism which set of post-election violence last year. Her commitment to her country, to freedom of expression and fellow Kenyans is powerful and I know she will always use her great creativity and communication skills to work for justice and empowerment, sometimes, as today, at personal cost. From wearing her protest sackcloth, to talking up a different approach to Valentine's Day, she smiles, talks, inspires others. We're watching you Philo, and sending you strength and the resolution of a rapid release.