Prints_Mutua Matheka Photography Market-3

Photographer Mutua Matheka, well known for his awesome pictures of Nairobi, has today launched an online print market. Fans of his work can now buy print photographs at affordable prices.

The prints are available in the following sizes:

  • 6×8 inches – Kshs. 500
  • 8×12 inches – Kshs. 2,000
  • 12×18 inches – Kshs. 6,000

Mutua says that he’s been trying to figure out a way of getting his work in the hands of a lot of people and at an affordable price. He had this revelation after an exhibition last year that featured very large prints of his work whose price was out of reach of many Kenyans. The print market, he says, is also a way of getting photography appreciated in its physical form and not just online.

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Forty (40) years after he first Performed, while only aged Seven (7), at Kenya National Theatre (see 1973 Newspaper clipping below); Japanese jazz drummer – Shingo Okudaira, is returning to the same Venue for two (2) special Homecoming Concerts on Friday 18th and Saturday 19th October.


This nostalgic Concert series; entitled: The Return of Shingo – Real Jazz from Tokyo; will also see him Perform at Carnivore Simba Saloon on Wednesday 16th October. Shingo is pleased that his Return is a fitting symbol of Japan – Kenya Cultural Exchange, leading up to 50 Years of Kenya’s independence.

Shingo & The Force are one of Tokyo’s best Jazz groups; where drummer – Mr. Shingo Okudaira, teams up with world-renowned – Mr. Fumio Karashima on Keys, and Mr. Takashi Sugawa on Double Bass. Kenya’s own – Umoja Calabash Percussions, will also feature in the two shows at Kenya National Theatre.

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Hey you…
I would see you there, lurking, smirking, and irking the hell out of me
Stealing glances, taking chances.
Acting like you were beyond my reach,
Beyond, breach
my itch.
Because that’s what it is now,
My rage a fully-fledged raging itch!

Always thwarting me
Two, Three steps away from my grasp
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You talk about leaving town like it’s the easiest thing to do, like I would just get up one morning and leave everything behind without a semblance of remorse; I would leave my friends behind, well, these people I call friends; people who introduced me to this kind of life, who taught me to live like this, who taught me to survive. Like I would just get up and leave my parents ; parents who were never there , you see my mother she loved the company of men who were not my father and he loved the company of  women just not my mother. They were never in the house at the same time and when they were, I was never there. At least I tried my best not to.

You say things like “this is not the life you deserve” and I think to myself “if I don’t deserve it who does?” I’ve spent the better part of my life running, running away from the beer bottles that raised me, ducking from the beer bottles that were thrown at me. Running away from the sisters at the missionary school who always told me how dirty and tattered my uniform was. Who complained that I slept a lot during class, who threatened to expel me if they caught me stealing books from my fellow classmates again. In my defence, I wasn’t exactly stealing I would just take their books without their consent and return them when I was done. See on most nights I would read myself to sleep. But the sisters would never understand this so that evening when they told me to come with my parents the next day, or never come back, I never went back.

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Do you know what they call “The star at the center of the solar system? The star that the earth and all other planets revolve around? , The star that provides light and warmth to all these wretched beings and everything on their precious planet, Earth? ”, Sun. They call me The Sun. Sun…Such a short word for something so important don’t you think? Given the magnitude of the work that I do and the level of importance that I have, three letters is a bit of a rip off. I feel a bit short changed, quite literally but my name is the least of my issues so I’ll save that pesky jabber for another day.

Every day I wake up at the exact same time even on those days when I feel I just want to sleep all my troubles away, I have to wake up and serve them. I watch them as they move around in their hurried little footsteps trying to fix this and that, rushing here and there, worried about this and that, all this time unaware of the effort it takes to keep them alive.

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My heart itched, and so I longed to scratch it,
I couldn’t, wouldn’t.
The scab was so brittle,
A miserly attempt to guard tufts of indifference
My only desire was to kill you
But your intrigue weakened my conviction each time,
So that my breath ceased instead.
I wanted to buy a dress,
To trace the outline of my youth,
But you insisted on a dira,
Saying that bad men would ogle,
All men ogle.
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I wake up wandering through the peripheries of Eden,
Clouds clothe the rising sun;
Casting cool shadows upon us.
Contentedly, Eve smiles beside me,
I smile too.

Last night we created a storm:
Violently tore through paradise;
Swirling and whirling
bending and swinging
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The Etisalat Prize for Literature is a pan-African literary prize that celebrates first time writers of published books of fiction. To cater to unpublished African writers, the Etisalat Prize has a flash fiction category.

Winners of the flash fiction category will receive:

Winning Author

  • £1000 cash prize
  • Smart Tablet Device
  • Published E-book promoted online and via SMS

Runners Up (2)

  • £500 cash prize (each)
  • Smart Tablet Device

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When cowards flee from the battlefield
With their tails between their legs
They carry their war
To unarmed men and women;
They turn their weapons on
The undefended and the defenceless.
Do your battle-hardened soldiers
Prove their valour and their bravery
By aiming their sights, and emptying their clips
Into the retreating backs of women
And at pleading, surrendered captives?
No matter how righteous your cause is,
Or how justified your convictions,
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Wamathai Spoken Word took an unintended break after the September event last year. Since then, I have been working to bring it back but I encountered a few challenges that delayed its return. I am glad to announce that Wamathai Spoken Word is back and with a more structured format and a larger venue. The next event will be on October 12th and the venue has shifted to the more spacious Louis Leakey Auditorium at the National Museum.

The event will be hosted by Sadia Ahmed. It will feature performances by Elani, Adelle Onyango, El Poet, Eudiah Kamonjo, Mwende Ngao and Raya Wambui. There will also be an art exhibition by Nduta Kariuki and Ian Weswa.

There will also be a DJ Set by David Mugo of Niaje.
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