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ABOUT ADELLE:

AT THE TENDER AGE OF 13 YEARS, ADELLE BEGUN WRITING POEMS AS A HOBBY WHILST IN HIGH SCHOOL IN BOTSWANA. AFTER SHOWING HER FIRST POEM TO HER ENGLISH TEACHER, THAT POEM GOT PUBLISHED IN THE SCHOOLâ??S YEARBOOK. THIS WAS THE CONCEPTION OF THIS YOUNG POETâ??S POETIC JOURNEY TO SUCCESS. UPON HER RETURN TO KENYA IN 2005, SHE RECOMMENCED WRITING POETRY BUT WOULD ONLY SHARE HER PIECES WITH CLOSE FRIENDS. IT WAS WHEN SHE JOINED THE UNITED STATES INTERNATIONAL UNIVERSITY THAT SHE CAME INTO CONTACT WITH THE POETRY CLUB CALLED FIKIRA. THROUGH FIKIRA, ADELLE NETWORKED WITH OTHER POETS, EXCHANGED IDEAS BUT MOST IMPORTANTLY GAINED THE CONFIDENCE IN HER POETRY THAT SHE NEEDED TO BE ABLE TO SHARE HER TALENT WITH THE WORLD. IT WAS THEN, THAT IN 2009, ADELLE BEGUN PERFORMING AT VARIOUS CORPRATE FUNCTIONS AND POETRY NIGHTS.

WHEN ASKED WHERE SHE DRAWS HER INSPIRATION THE   TALENTED POET REPLIES: â??I AM INSPIRED BY LIFE. I WRITE ABOUT  EVERYTHING I HAVE GONE THROUGH AND WHAT I HAVE SEEN  PEOPLE AROUND ME GO THROUGH. I WRITE PIECES THAT  INSPIRE BLACK WOMEN TO FEEL PROUD OF THEIR ETHNICITY  AND SEXUALITY AND PIECES THAT EMPHASIZE THE IMPORTANCE  OF SPIRITUALITY.  MOST IMPORTANTLY THOUGH, I WRITE PIECES  THAT HOLD THE SOLUTIONS TO SOCIAL PROBLEMS WITHIN  THEM. I FEEL LIKE POETRY POSSESSES THE POWER NOT ONLY TO  ENTERTAIN BUT ALSO PROMOTE SOCIAL CHANGE. I WANT MY  POEMS TO INSPIRE PEOPLE TO BE THE BEST VERSIONS OF  THEMSELVES!â??

Black Girl, Black Sparrow

I let my imagination run wild in the plains of my mind

A young black girl cups a black sparrow; thatâ??s what it finds

Sheâ??s engrossed and hypnotized by its thick smudge feathers

Itâ??s loving her attention but yearning to flap its feathers

She is scared to let it go, let it fly

Because if she does, will that mean that companionship dies

Will she be able to scurry after it; she thinks, she sighs

She clutches it closer and walks to the corner of the plain

Thoughts bouncing in her head; she yearns for silence, to be sane

There is a rock thatâ??s littered with green moss

She climbs up; she sits, she thinks of her impending loss

All sheâ??s ever known is her sparrow

The love she had for it was deep; it was narrow

And at this moment my imagination engulfs her

Her thoughts become more, more vivid, some even taunt her

They flutter in her mind, control her brain

She feels different; an insane sane

Black wants black to flutter, to fly

Black wants black to let that love die

Black wants black to explore within

Black wants black to lose so she can win

The young black girl opens up her hands slowly

The black sparrow drifts out gently

Confused first it chooses not to fly

Looks back at her, as though saying goodbye

Then hops, then runs, then up it goes

She tears, she smiles, her love it pours

Still imaginationâ??s captive she begins to think

That perhaps she should explore the she within

She had nothing to lose as sheâ??d set it free

So she lay back on the rock and decided to fall in love with she

She closed her eyes and traversed the plains of she

She explored, defined and then loved she

She had found her new drug, obsessed with her she

Itâ??s a new kind of high, sheâ??s her latest drug

She was the jewel she yearned, she thought with a smug

Right then, she fell in love

Her love for she was a raging fire

Whose tongues licked every corner of her desires

Whose heat burned the love for the sparrow; her fear

Whose heat dried up the past; no tears

And after her loveâ??s arson, one thought attacked:

Black left black so that Black could be, love and know Black.

Iâ??M ETHNOCENTRIC

The light in my brightest days is black

A color whose history is interesting to track

Iâ??m oblivious to the talk about black being whack

In my world those are just whispers from my black pride they try to distract

ME

But nevertheless Iâ??ll always see myself as that black queen

No fear in admitting that Iâ??m ethnocentric

They say that term leads to the negative just so that I may abandon black and embrace weak

They see the success in my color and try and cloud me with tricks

Tricks that those at the top  fail to speak

Of coz they have forgotten their people and now think black is a stain, a dirty streak

And so in our schools we learn about their history

Forget ours and embrace their story

We know their economyâ??s inventory

But know not about our forefathersâ?? glory

Kids know of Hitlerâ??s plans but not those of Shaka Zulu

They know of Churchill and Roosevelt forget Kenyatta and Mboya too

They know of the SS but not the Mau Mau

They learn of the American dream but doesnâ??t black have a dream too?

We watch Cruise and Clooney but our local theatres weâ??ve never stepped into

Doesnâ??t black deserve your time too?

Dismiss our cultural gowns as being backward

Forgetting that without the back, thereâ??d be no forward

Drop the lesso and pick up the Arafat

Donâ??t buy the local, youâ??d rather get some baby phat

Local music mirrors the lils, the biggys and the rock stars too

With themes ranging from the money, the booty and things that our cultureâ??s not used to

And so I ask you

When will you shed off their kaleidoscope of colors

And stop treating black with such callous

Realize that itâ??s the light in the dark

The morals you lack

The story you should track

When will you love your color for your peopleâ??s sake?

When will you let the ethnocentric in you awake?

Welcome to Nairobi

Where my legacy was conceived and now lives

I stroll through the streets and no I donâ??t believe

All the beggars on their knees reaching out to me

Telling me â??Siste help me reach my destinyâ??

â??Aunty all I need is a mbao not a G

Not even a sok, Iâ??m not trying to bring you down like meâ??

So I reach down in my purse and grab a couple of coins

The sight of this old beggar stopped my feet from going

And as I touched his dry cracked palms I pledged to alleviate him through my poems

Change it through my rich dictionary

Welcome to Nairobi

Where my legacy was conceived and now lives

Where a well known thug though he used to be

Placed his hands on a bible and now at Kencom he preaches to me

Tells me to cut off my dreads

Wear skirts not tight threads

It canâ??t penetrate his head

Because his intelligence is dead

That thereâ??s more to me than the shell he sees

As he raises his bible and asks to pray for me

I pledge to fight this religious hypocrisy

Change it through my sacred dictionary

Welcome to Nairobi

Where my legacy was conceived and now lives

And at the junction between two famous streets

A young man walks up to me

Says heâ??s trying to get to Thika but his walletâ??s been stole

Said heâ??s tried calling his cousin but all he hears in Mteja on his phone

Young man thinks Iâ??m a fool but this story Iâ??d been told

I think this con is getting pretty old

So I let him down gently â??Sina do on meâ??

And as I walk away amidst appeals from him

I pledge to right the wrong so these conmen cease to be

Change it with my truth yaani my dictionary

Welcome to Nairobi

Where my legacy was conceived and now lives

Where the party scene is vibrant and the place to be

But also where you can lose yourself; forget who you want and ought to be

While some dance to a drunk choreography

Others converse in the car with their bodies, you see

Boys torturing their necks with imitated bling

Hoping that the gleam will her heart win

And just when I think she houses morals in her being

She locks her arm around his; off to the automobile

Leaving me chanting a prayer that he puts a cap on his thing

Welcome to Nairobi

A place thatâ??s home to me

But I have to change it with my rich, true and sacred dictionary

Before my kin comes to be.

Siste â?? sister

Mbao â?? Ksh20

Sok â?? Ksh100

Kencom â?? Major bus stop in Nairobi city centre

Mteja â?? refers to a recorded message that plays when the person you are callingâ??s phone is off

Thika â?? A town in Kenya

â??Sina doâ?? â?? Slang for, I have no money

Yaani â?? as in/meaning

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