Reflective Surface: A Conversation With Muthoni Ni Mimi

Monday, May 8, was a sunny day. Tuesday, May 9, wasn’t. I had planned to wear my easy-going well-fitted black sandals, but the weather dictated otherwise. By the time I was leaving the house for town, after three and a half hours of sleep, I was in my ankle-high brown shoes. They’ve held me down for a few years – this is part of my attempt at a minimalist lifestyle.

I love gloomy weather. Wet roads, puddles here and there, an air of something indescribable. However, I do not love the traffic that accompanies any form of rainy weather in this country. And people not opening windows in matatus, something that also happened in the evening following a brilliant day spent with Muthoni Ni Mimi. I also do not love paying a hundred bob from Umoja to town. Is this the matatu sector playing its part in increasing the tax base?

Although occasional, leaving home early in the morning always makes me think of the proletariat even more. It always reminds me of a lot. I think of the proletariat and work. And bills. And life. And purpose. And why are we here? And the school system. And cycles. And the hustle. And capitalism. And dreams of wealth. And art. And conversations. And thoughts. And everything. Leaving town at rush hour evokes the same. I rarely leave town then, but that was my reality on Tuesday, May 9. Usually, I get to town at that time, heading to an event.

But… why art? Why intellectualism?

After checking out some film posters and a poster for Makadem’s Nyatiti Jazz Experience concert at the Alliance Française notice board, I stood outside the Goethe-Institut. I had walked the wet roads of the CBD while listening to Deca’s The Ocean. I had listened to it on low volume as I slept that morning. A few hours before finding myself in the city. The intro, “Night Preparations,” advises, “Play this record after you have finished your night preparations and are comfortably in bed.” I remembered this as I thought about what to play as I rested. The album ended moments before I returned to stand outside Goethe.

I was waiting for Muthoni and Irauka. They both come from distant lands. Kiserian and Utawala. They both had undergone the same problem I’d undergone: traffic. Irauka’s was worse. Since he couldn’t get past Mombasa Road, he had to alight the matatu he was in and take a boda boda, braving the cold in his shorts. In the meantime, as I waited with Muthoni, we chatted about thalassophobia, aerophobia, traffic, living away from the city, white people, the scam that’s humanity, and Marina Abramović’s 1974 Rhythm 0 performance.

Marina is an artist who has gone against the grain. As we were doing. University Way and Nyerere Road were heavy with traffic. The Kenya Methodist University side of the roundabout was muddy. Earlier, Muthoni had told me she had to wait for a matatu for half an hour at her stage. I shared that on reading her text, my thought was, “Msanii huna gari!” We laughed as we manoeuvred the University Way roundabout. Irauka suggested there should be an Artist Car Fund. Give us cars we need them!

Walking along Nyerere Road, I observed how we often go against the grain. We get to town in the evening to attend art events while everyone is headed home, tired. On a gloomy Tuesday morning, we headed to Arboretum as people headed to work and students returned to school. I cited a segment that ties to this from Slim Shaka’s poem, “Plastic.” It’s a masterpiece that interweaves climate change and other “plastic” aspects of our lives. Matatus in the morning are a silent and sleepy affair; in the evening, it’s the same with exhaustion added to the picture. The following day, we do the same. And on and on it goes. Cycles.

On “Plastic,” Slim Shaka says:

“The industries are roaming like hungry angry demons

Like a mad tree running on its rooting

They stumble on a soul that’s lost its footing

You should see them in those vehicles every evening

They are like corpses being moved in their caskets

Watching the world from a tiny window

Thinking rest at last…

Home at last.”

We were walking to Arboretum to converse with Muthoni about her debut solo performance show, Reflective Surface, staged on Friday, March 10, 2023, at the Santuri Salon, Westlands. Our chat was preceded by an in-depth philosophical exchange. We talked about a lot. I will publish that conversation later. After our Reflective Surface chat, I told Muthoni and Irauka I would possibly edit the audio recording and share both conversations. Irauka laughed. When we started discussing Reflective Surface, he asked whether he should introduce Muthoni and himself. I said no because I would type the conversation. So now you will share the audio? He wondered.

I’d love for you to experience our conversations as they were. It’s a bid to solve the paradox of missing what you don’t know/have. Besides, it shall offer the wholesome experience lost in transcription. But before then, whenever that shall be, here is our Sanaa kwa Sana conversation with Muthoni Ni Mimi on Reflective Surface, steered by Irauka Sam.

Irauka: Kuongelea Reflective Surface, nakumbuka you used a lot of different sounds. First, what was the inspiration behind the show? And why did you feel the need to put it up? And also, the titling of the show.

Muthoni: So this year, I experimented and did my first mini-album as a producer, nikaitoa. And the story behind that was me navigating the concept of creation, and how that ties to “traditional versus modern.” So nilikuwa a lot around spirituality. When it came to the show, the initial idea was to incorporate that music fully into the show.

Lakini I got to a point where I started asking myself, or rather, hiyo doubt ya ume-create hii kitu but… the concept of an artist as a creator, basically, ndio nilianza kujiuliza. Cause you get to a point where you start doubting yourself, you start asking yourself, “What do I have that can make people come and listen to me and my thoughts? Who the fuck am I for people to come and listen to my madness?” And also kufanya my final goodbyes to Christianity. Juu it always lingers, the concept of religion and how it’s given to you. It always lingers in small things. Unajipata unajiuliza swali yenye… that’s the voice of your priest, you know? Like, that’s definitely not you. So when I started feeling hizo, nika-combine the storyline that I used for the album, plus whatever I was going through, and I came up with Reflective Surface.

Cause art reflects society. The story was this artist who’s struggling with the concept of seeing themselves as a god, essentially as a creator. And also the grief that comes with letting go all the shit that you’ve been believing. All the trauma. Hiyo part imekufa lakini memories of it linger. It wasn’t always bad. So you have to grieve about the loss while still moving forward.

Nilikuwa nataka ku-immerse watu into the experience of this artist. Nimekuwa nikicheza na frequency and how that relates to therapy, brain waves, hormones za dopamine. With that regard, nimekuwa pia nikicheza na frequency-based sounds a lot, synth sounds sana sana. Zinakupeleka in a place where you calm down and then you just zero in on whatever you’re watching and immerse yourself. Na pia niliongeza field recordings kidogo. Nilikuwa nataka ikuwe ni ka curtain imefunguliwa into another person’s life, and you’re experiencing it as they are.

Irauka: I would say you were successful, kwanza with the “calming” cause I remember, ikiisha, I felt like I was coming out of a meditation session, cause it was very calming but also, there was some chaos when you started with the performance painting and I remember you had on a white gown. How did you come up with the painting and why the garb you chose? Does that tie into vile umesema you were mourning vile umeacha Christianity?

Muthoni: Ili-tie, yes, into the story, especially of the character. In this particular show, the character was morning an abusive lover. Let’s be honest, the Christian God is an abusive lover.

[Laughter]

If they were a person, they’d be in jail.

[Laughter]

Let’s be honest. For war crimes; ICC. In this story, this character was mourning the loss of an abusive lover. This person who’s been torturing you and you’ve been wanting to leave but you can’t, is dead. But then, everything wasn’t all bad, obviously. There were points where you were happy. You’ve known this and only this as love. So there’s all of that. The dress was supposed to represent the wedding dress of this person, and also with the flowers and shit. Cause it was supposed to look like they were trying to move on, and then they saw this one thing and it took them back, and now they are crying cause they don’t know whether to feel happy that they’re gone or sad, or to move on with their life or stay in the same place. Will they be able to?

With how it played out on stage, I had ideas sketched out but I went and had a conversation with Bagbo cause I felt like they have more experience in regards to exhibitions and performance art and full shows. During that conversation is when I was able to see how I can incorporate all these elements that I wanted to put together. How they can morph into something that sort of makes sense as a story. They are the ones who actually told me, think of it as a character. When you’re on stage you’re not Muthoni. You’re not going there as Muthoni. Someone’s speaking through you. That really helped me understand how the story will flow and what that would look like even in costuming and sound.

Irauka: With the rehearsals for the show, did you also rehearse the painting bits? Did you know the artworks you were going to do? Or was it a spur-of-the-moment where you had planned to do artwork but you didn’t know what exactly was going to come out at the moment? Cause I remember there were spirals, others you had put your hands. Did you sit on others? I’m not sure. Or you did imprints.

Muthoni: I think I just did imprints on my body. I went on stage knowing at this part I would like to paint, cause the character is a visual artist. I wanted by that point in the story, this person is, that catharsis, ana-release something. That was supposed to be the bit with the artwork. I didn’t want it to be something that I’ve thought of before because I’d have thought of it as Muthoni, not as the character who’s going through this grieving moment. Then I just let my madness and Rebian’s intoxicating drums take me.

Irauka: Did you rehearse the drumming bit?

Muthoni: We usually jam with Rebian hapa na pale. Lakini for that particular show we hadn’t gotten time to even sit down for one of those jam sessions in a while. Cause adulting, life. Lakini in between there there was a yoga session we attended together, and drumming yake was very centering, and it’s also like there’s chaos going on. But then you’re also sort of settled. I had already asked her if she would be a part of it. Not as a poet, as a drummer. And so on the day of, nilimuambia we kuja tu, whatever comes out of you, comes out of you, whatever comes out of me, comes out of me.

Irauka: With the gift of hindsight, looking back at Reflective Surface, is there anything you feel you could have done different? Is there anything you had planned that you weren’t able to execute that you either regret or are happy that ulishindwa ku-execute? And your general thoughts now that you can look back.

Muthoni: I feel like with the show, the transitioning through the story, the transitions from different scenes, for lack of a better term, would have been smoother. Morphing from, let’s say, one instrument, or one poem, or one sound, whatever soundscape, into the other, would have been smoother.

Irauka: By saying smoother, what would that then look like?

Muthoni: I think maybe incorporating other people into the show. So that maybe I’m concentrating on portraying the character, or the sound purely. Cause the story would have still been told if someone else was the character. I think that that was the biggest lesson, collaboration. Lakini pia nilikuwa nimehaha, you know? Your first show… I have to do this and see if I can.

I had in my mind set up the stage differently, in a totally different place in the room. But I’m glad that it ended up being how it was. Because kuna mahesabu sikuwa nimepiga. Nikiieka hapo mi nilikuwa nimeieka tu ka msanii. Si mi ntakuwa hapo? Si watu watakuwa hapo? But it was very interesting to learn things like, nikiwa hapa, how does someone who’s seated there see me? Na mwenye amekaa kwa corner? Those are the tiny little details I hadn’t thought of but sahizi going forward I think I have to consider audience penye itakaa, na penye everything is happening.

Lessons I would say would be telling myself that it’s not that hard. It’s not that simple, but it’s also not that hard. It’s just expression. Nilikuwa naeka hesabu mingi zenye hazikuwa. Also the bit about collaboration. The way people came through for me was, “I can’t believe this is happening!” Seeing that there are people who love and support your work, will love and support you as a person. That was very amazing. Ilinifanya niskie vizuri and also encouraged as an artist to know that it is possible to do this and to collaborate with other people.

I learnt that I like that format of shows. I think I’ll do that for a while. I have been going less and less in shows where I’m standing on stage and I’m the only focus, and then I give you a poem and then I go home, and leaning more towards creating an experience, a whole story. Ukitoka hapo, something has shifted somewhere. That’s been amazing to experience and to know that it’s possible. Juu of course before then uko like, “Nikienda ni-flop? Na hii ndio introduction. Nikienda ni-flop?”

Oh, and producing live. Hiyo nili-learn mostly with Matarania. With Timo’s show is where I got to experiment with that. Like, for the first time, niko stage, shit is happening.

afrikan: Bartender…

Muthoni: Bartender, you know? So by the time ilikuwa inafika Reflective Surface, at least niko more confident with the logs.

Irauka: If you can go back, knowing what you know, is there anything you would change in the show?

Muthoni: Setup ya stage. More on the stage to create the environment that I really wanted to create.

Irauka: So more stage design.

Muthoni: More stage design. And, I think I would have loved to rehearse a bit more, the full show, so that I can have it run smooth. Of course ningeeka the bit with Rebian, the spontaneity of it was [chef’s kiss gesture], lakini hizo zingine zikikuwa smooth in a way that everything and everyone knows exactly where they should be. And I would have collaborated a little bit earlier and a little bit more with people, instead of being in your head. I feel like that happens a lot.

Irauka: That’s a problem artists have. It’s sad but it happens.

afrikan: Where else could we be?

[Laughter]

Muthoni: I have a question for you.

Irauka: Okay.

Muthoni: What was your experience of the show as an audience member?

Irauka: At first, I expected it to be a poetry performance with just music, you know? Like, “the usual.” But once I sat down and saw the setup, and I think I found you’d already started cause you were in the white gown… Kwanza vile unasema the synths, what you intended with the synths, and with the calming, I experienced that. I genuinely experienced that and I zoomed into that. I enjoy shows where I can sit down and just take it all in. Sitaki ile ya “Oh! Simama sasa!” Like, yo! Nimeshachoka, man. Mi nimekuja kukuona, unataka niku-perform-ie, you know?

Nili-find it very immersive. The sadness came through. The juxtaposition of the mourning with the white dress, before uni-explain-ie, nilikuwa naona ni like a wedding dress, lakini umekasirika vile umeachwa. To some extent vile ume-explain nimeona I had an idea, but mi sikuwa nimeona ni kama mourning Christianity in that sense. Pia, the sounds you used, cause ulitumia ambient sounds?

Muthoni: Yes.

Irauka: Nilizipenda sana. That also brings me to a question of production. How did you get into music production? You’ve said you produced an EP? Have you collaborated with other people or is it just an EP of yours?

Muthoni: Unaona 2020? Pandemic vile ilikuja niliambiwa nisirudi job kwanza.

[Laughter]

Na nilikuwa tu nimeibiwa simu.

Irauka: When it rains, maze.

afrikan: It pours. It pours.

Muthoni: Around that time I started playing around with production. I’ve always been curious about how music is made from scratch. But ile line pia yenye sikuenda ilikuwa ya kuweza kusoma music theory. Bado hiyo skill sina. But we move regardless. I started tinkering around with production apps na ni zile unaingia YouTube una-search “How to produce lo-fi beats.” Then you get a random video and this person is telling you this is the best DAW in the market. Lappy nilikuwa nayo pia hiyo time si ati ungeeka FL hapo na i-function. So I got, I don’t remember the name of that DAW, and I started tinkering around with it. I wrote a song, I put it on my YouTube.

Irauka: Can we find it there?

Muthoni: See press and posters. I think there’s one of the songs that’s still there. I put up the song and then that’s when actually Muthoni’s account was created. To share this song with my five friends who I’ve sent the link to.

[Laughter]

Irauka: Support the art, bros.

afrikan: Support the art.

Irauka: Support the art.

afrikan: You are my friends, hamna option.

Irauka: Maze, jo!

afrikan: Itabaki tu mmeni-support.

Muthoni: Hebu follow that account. So I started doing that then I got more into poetry and music, ya stage. So hapo nikaachana nayo kidogo na pia lappy iliharibika. That is the real reason. Lakini later on, Timo alinitumia Santuri was calling for applications for beginner producers to apply. Mimi huyo I’m like, kwani what am I doing? I applied for Santuri and, fortunately, they accepted me, then I went there and my mind was blown. Like what is this world? And from then on it’s just been…

Irauka: Oontz! Oontz! Oontz! Oontz!

Muthoni: Oontz! Oontz! Everywhere. Nilianza lakini nikitaka ku-produce more like hip-hop. Cause my first ever EP as an artist was a rap EP.

Irauka: Aah! Tunaeza ipata wapi?

afrikan: Of course you wouldn’t know.

Muthoni: Iko YouTube.

Irauka: Mi ntaenda kuitafuta.

Muthoni: The first beats I produced were more like hip-hop heavy or soul, that kavaibu. After some time sa mi naendelea tu na production yangu, chucking one track here and there trying to find my sound. Ilifika mahali nikaona I want more than the 4/4. I didn’t feel like it helped me. Sikuwa na-expand sana. Sijui nilikuwa natafta nini but I found it later. Later on when I applied for the intermediary ya Santuri, wakanichukua. More intense, more expansive classes. I got into the sound frequencies, sound therapy, how that would look like, and it’s been that ever since. I like doing this thing where unachukua DAW yako, you take the synth sounds you find, nataka hii frequency, and you just go… For like 10 minutes then unamalizana. Umeji-express, umetoa stress zako, umeenda home.

With the EP, it is frequencies, mostly synth sounds, ambient music, it’s mostly an ambient music EP, with some soundbites from field recordings that I’ve had. Conversations with my mom or my aunty or whatever. It was born out of exploring, like I said, spirituality. Christianity, how that ties to tradition. I also have one of Timo GK’s Gikuyu poems in one of the tracks sampled in there. Then one of my poems. So it’s one poem, the rest is just [vocalises a harmony]. I really loved creating that one. Lakini it is scary.

Irauka: It was scary?

Muthoni: Yeah! Like, how long do you have to take to call yourself a producer? Like…

Irauka: Yeah.

Muthoni: Unaona? Ndio nimeanza so it’s…

Irauka: Yeah. Yeah. Yeah.

afrikan: You can relate?

[Laughter]

Irauka: I can relate. I can relate. I can relate.

[Laughter]

Irauka: But I feel as much as we have to have artists we look up to, we have to try and also not compare ourselves with them. Although the problem with knowing you’ve made bad art is that you’ve seen what you consider good art. As we are chasing a standard, tunafaa pia kujipatia grace ile ya, hata sisi we are doing our best. But that comes na caveat cause enyewe we’re not all doing our best huku nje.

[Laughter]

Muthoni: Enyewe. There are people cosplaying art. Anyways…

afrikan: That’s a bar!

Irauka: Going back to the show. Vile umesema umeona you would have done more collaborations, who would you have loved to collaborate with? And in upcoming shows, are there any people, any artists that you are hoping to collaborate with, you would like to, all the like?

Muthoni: For Reflective Surface, I will answer it later.

Irauka: Okay, ni sawa. No worries.

Muthoni: Who I’d want to collaborate with in the future, I would definitely love to have Bagbo on stage. Rebian was definitely an amazing experience. So, naeza penda sana ikifanywa hivo. Na amekuwa aki-expand instruments zenye ako nazo, so… It’s about to go down. Msanii karibu afungue studio. Can I say a type of artist without saying a name?

Irauka: Yeah, yeah, yeah.

Muthoni: I’d love to collab with a dancer. I’d love to collaborate with another poet. A rapper on stage. Sijui how that’s going to look like but…

afrikan: Apart from the rapper part, dancer, poet, huyo si ni Bagbo?

Irauka: Na vile Bagbo moves mad, anaeza kuwa rapper.

[Laughter]

Muthoni: Na instrumentalists, definitely. And actors. Ikawezekana, my goal is to appear on stage less and less unless it’s necessary. Unless I’m the character, what am I doing there? So actors, I would love to collaborate with actors. As many as possible. Art types zote tu yaani, come forth. Ina-depend tu na what the show that I’m planning demands and what would bring out the story that I want to put out.

Irauka: Vile umeongelea your collaborations, and vile inakaa, what does the future of Muthoni Ni Mimi as an artist look like? Will Muthoni Ni Mimi be mostly like anaji-present on stage akifanya pia producing ama will you move more and more into the back end? Either you’re writing pieces and others are performing them? Plus you’re doing the music, plus you’re doing the set design, but you’re just behind? Your work is being showcased but without your face being on.

Muthoni: Where the spirit leadeth sahizi ni incorporating both kuwa on stage na creating and having it showcased. Lakini sana sana towards mi nafanya sound mahali; ama nimeandika script ya hii, hawa ndio wasee wenye wanakuja kui-execute. I think that is more where I’m leaning at the moment as an artist. I don’t know whether that’ll change. Juu there are different parts of my art that I would love to present but then I haven’t figured out how they tie into what I want, which is moving more into the background. As a rapper, how do you rap from the background?

[Laughter]

afrikan: Una-rap BGVs.

Irauka: Ama, you do a reverse Milli Vanilli. Where you hire a guy to lip-sync your lyrics. Kwanza imagine you’ve hired a dude, and then aki-rap ni dame.

Muthoni: Yes!

Irauka: And then una-rap live huko nyuma. So it’s live uko nyuma lakini pia huko mbele…

afrikan: Anachachisha.

Irauka: Ako hapo hivyo, “My titties, my titties, my titties.” Ha!

Muthoni: That’s fire!

Irauka: Yeah! I have given that idea for free. The next time you’ll pay.

[Laughter]

Muthoni: Get your bag!

afrikan: Fire!

Muthoni: It’s fire. Nani anataka kuwa rapper? Unataka kuwa una-lip sync?

Irauka: Me I would, maze! Toklezea.

afrikan: Unakuja una…

Irauka: Nawa kill dem.

Muthoni: Being a baddie.

afrikan: And you know the lyrics.

Irauka: Maze! Maze!

Muthoni: It’s fire.

Irauka: So currently, what are you working on? Artistically. Life-ically. I would like to say death-ically but that’s a bit morbid for our fans.

[Laughter]

afrikan: Kwani hawatujui?

Muthoni: In my journey towards death…

[Laughter]

afrikan: Just after using psychedelics.

[Laughter]

Muthoni: I’m being driven towards painting more. Cause I used to draw as a kid, so now getting that back. Going back to that ka-place. Drawing and incorporating painting into it. I’m also working on having a structure to my shows. Ndio I answer the question that you’ve said, am I more foreground ama niko kwa background kiasi, and how that would look like for my artistry. Juu pia lazima nijilipe na watu wenye wata-participate lazima everybody eats.

Irauka: Unless ni watu wengine.

[Laughter]

Muthoni: You know? Sitaki kubaki na pesa ya mtu two years.

Irauka: Maze! Maze, jo!

[Laughter]

Irauka: Na saa hizo we ndio umewatafuta. Imagine! Who would do that? Who would do that?

afrikan: Si we ulijipeleka ati, “I’d like to be part of your show.”

Muthoni: No, no, no. “Could you be?” Wasanii! Pay your artists!

afrikan & Irauka: Manze!

Muthoni: And also figuring out money. Juu shows kama hizo sijui how the marketing bit of it would work. How much would I charge? Maswali ka hizo uende ufanye research ujue vizuri. And if you charge that amount, what is that going to cover? Or are you going to go get funding? What conditions do you want for the funding? I guess that’s what I’m working on.

Irauka: Do you have another question for the interviewer as we close?

Muthoni: Well…

afrikan: For the audience member.

Muthoni: When you came in you said you were expecting a poetry show. Did it change your perspective or perception of me as an artist?

Irauka: Yes it did. Nili-feel enyewe huu ni artist ana-put in the work. Sisemi hao wengine hawa-put in the work but one could tell, or rather, I could tell you put in the work. Haikuwa show ile ya, “Ntafanya show in two weeks,” you know? It’s not even a matter of the duration you took to put the show together, it’s the effort it took to put the show together. I felt there was a lot of effort put and pia there was sincerity in the performance. I enjoyed the show.

Muthoni: Asanti.

afrikan: Nilikuwa nataka kuuliza a few things. So one ilikuwa kuhusu body and going back to what we had talked about earlier. Ningependa ku-understand how ulitumia your body as an instrument through the performance and whether you deliberately thought about incorporating your body as part of the experience, kama ni kutumia for your paintings, and stuff.

Muthoni: Yes, it was very deliberate for me to use my body because I wanted to tell most of the story as quiet as possible. Zero dialogue, it’s just the art that’s speaking and my body that’s telling you the physical aspect of it. Even wearing the dress, the dress didn’t fit me, the zipper was torn, it was too small. I wanted that bit of a past ideal, penye ulikuwa. I wanted to show huu msee alitoka mahali flani. Also that struggle with weight that people usually have especially na kitu kama wedding dress. Kuna lots of things attached to it; with wanting to look like you did when you were a girl. Also, the fact that I wanted to reflect being tired and needing sleep. That also meant my hair had to look a certain way.

With regards to the art, putting the paint on me, showing embracing or finding your voice again as an artist or as a person was also therapy for me because putting my body out there, especially juu nilikuwa na shorts na boob top on stage. Doing something like that was also kind of me telling myself, it’s fine. You’re beautiful as you are, go on stage and do your thing.

afrikan: And the other one ilikuwa, since this inaongelea your relationship and what you are grieving and mourning and moving from, regarding hiyo relationship with your previous abuser…

[Laughter]

Irauka: Ile radi inapiga tizi sahii.

[Laughter]

afrikan: What would you say ilikuwa the best thing that came out of that, in reference to what you said that haikukuwa all negative and all bad? And what would you say was the worst thing to come out of that relationship?

Muthoni: The good bit I feel was I felt a sense of community in church. Kulikuwa na people I could turn to, who I could call friends, who I could hang out, who could… or so I thought, accept me for who I am.

[Laughter]

Muthoni: Some did, some didn’t. Bad fruits, good fruits, or whatever… Paul said.

afrikan: Haukukuwa na gift ya discernment.

[Laughter]

Muthoni: Again, nilikuwa kwa line ingine.

[Laughter]

Muthoni: Other than the part about community, it was also the place that I was able to hone my ski-, tulisema tuna-hone skill ama ni talent?

Irauka: Hone skill.

[Laughter]

Muthoni: So it was also the place that gave me the opportunity to hone that skill ya singing. As oppressive as it was. It was nice. Four years of practice, every fucking week for four hours, that’s crazy! Halafu katikati ya wiki kuna zingine, so that was amazing training.

Bad… kudanganywa. Lack of freedom, you know? The church wants me dead. There’s a lot. And it was very interesting to get to a place where niko able kusema vitu kama hizi out loud without, “Nitapigwa na nini.” Or after I’ve said something, niende hapo mbele something happens to me, I tell myself I’m being punished.

[Laughter]

Irauka: Because of what you said or the thoughts you had.

Muthoni: Exactly.

afrikan: Since ulisema kuna hizo vestiges bado, do you still, at the moment whenever you have a particular thought, do you feel some way? Ama siku hizi it’s just part of who you are?

Muthoni: Shit-talking the religion has become easier.

[Laughter]

But with regard to these moral codes that were drilled into us, there are times that I still hear a little voice in my head, but at least now I’m able to recognize the voice. I’m able to see this is the church talking before it harms me or it makes me feel weird about an experience that I’m having. I’m proud of that growth. Knowing…

Irauka: It’s not me.

Muthoni: Yeah. Hope eventually it’ll drink enough wine to just…

afrikan: Halafu, lastly. Where did, in terms of language, Gikuyu fit into the entire thing?

Muthoni: The tracks that I incorporated from the EP, the titles were Gikuyu, they were created with instrumentation, zenye si synth sounds, ni Gikuyu music, people. And I wanted to go back to that idea of, what was there before? Juu I believe in reincarnation… Waah! Cycling.

[Laughter]

Irauka: And we’re back.

afrikan: Look at how that moment came full circle.

Muthoni: In that regard, I feel like nilikuwa wale watu wenye, imagining yourself as someone who died watching the colonialists coming in and fucking everything up. Then you die and then now you’re born in an era where they’ve already fucked everything up. So incorporating those songs was also very important to me juu whatever that fit in the story ya EP, naona venye hiyo storyline inaeza fit kwa this other character’s life. I also did a Gikuyu poem that was more of a prayer which was the first that I’ve ever written or performed. And I’m wanting to learn Gikuyu. As a city kid, I didn’t get the chance to learn but like you said, there gets to a point where you have to make the decision.

My goal is to pursue or put myself in positions where Gikuyu is more inside my art, my life, whatever, ndio nijue the language itself. Whether I have to teach myself or whatever. Nimefika pahali imebidi. I would love to be able to go to a white people country and speak Gikuyu shamelessly. “Ndirakuigwa? Atì?” You know? Venye wanakujanga, “See I do not understand Swahili.” I want to be able to do that.

afrikan: Maswali yangu yameisha.

Irauka: Ah. Mimi si maswali yangu iliisha na yeye kuniuliza. Thank you for your time. Hakuna chai hapa karibu. But thank you for your time. We really appreciate it.

Muthoni: I enjoyed.

afrikan: Any final words?

Muthoni: Live and learn and grow. Please be open to grow. And not being the same person that you were huko mbele.

afrikan: Wakuwe open to expansion?

Muthoni: Expand yourself. Whether that means…

[Laughter]

Irauka: Whether that means…

Muthoni: You know?

Irauka & afrikan: You know?