He dropped technology for poetry

Nii Ayikwei Parkes

What you need to know:

Quick profile

  • Parkes was born in the UK, in 1974, and raised in Ghana. He is a performance poet, novelist, editor, broadcaster and sociocultural commentator. He serves on the Caine Prize for African Writing and he is a judge for the 2012 Commonwealth Writers Prize.
  • Books: He is the author of the poetry chapbooks: Eyes of a Boy, Lips of a Man (1999) and M is for Madrigal (2004) a collection of seven jazz poems. A poetry collection The Makings of You (2010) and novel Tail of the Blue Bird (2009) was shortlisted for 2010 Commonwealth Writers Prize and has been translated into Dutch and German.
  • Education: He holds an MA in Creative Writing from Birkbeck University of London and a BSc. (Hons) in Food Manufacturing Management with French from Manchester Metropolitan University.
  • Mentoring Ugandan poets: Parkes was in Uganda for a week at the invitation of the African Writers Trust, a UK-based organisation which facilitates interactions between African writers in the Diaspora and writers on the continent to promote sharing of skills and resources between the two groups.

Nii Ayikwei Parkes, UK born writer who dropped his career as a food technologist for writing, was in Kampala last week to share his writings and experience with Ugandan poets. He spoke to Harriet Anena about poetry in Uganda, the continent and what the future holds for poets.

Q When did you write your first poem and what was it about?

A. I don’t actually know but the first poem I kept was in 1984. It was called Courage.

Q. What was the inspiration behind that poem?
It was after I searched the world for courage and gave up in despair. I was thinking of the fact that there will always be new challenges in life.

Q. How many poems have you written so far?
I don’t know, but more than 400.

Q. Does that mean you don’t keep track of the poems you write?
I keep track of what I send out for publication, but I write several drafts.

Q. How many books have you written and how many have been published?
I have books such as; The Makings of You (2010), a collection of poems and Tail of the Blue Bird (2009), a novel. I also have pamphlets including, M is for Madrigal (2004), Ballast (2009), Eyes of a Boy, Lips of a Man (1999).

Q. What has been your stimulus?
The love for words and curiosity. Curiosity for the world. I was a pest as a kid, I never stopped asking questions. At some point, people stopped answering the questions and the best way to answer myself was to write. I also really love language; the sound of words in my local language intrigued me. I love language and music, which can all be expressed through poetry.

Q. How has the journey been from when you began, till now?
The writing has been smooth but the things around it, not really, but I usually leave my work to the judgement of my peers.

Q. What do you consider a major hindrance to your achievement?
I don’t remember anything being particularly a huge hindrance to my writing. There were times when people thought I should get a proper job. But I have a deep conviction that writing is more important to Africa. If we don’t write then we will lose ourselves. Besides, I think I influence more people as a writer than when I was a food technologist.

Q. When was the ultimate breakthrough?
What I consider my breakthrough was in 1996. I was at university when a colleague told me about a poetry event in Manchester. I participated and came second in the competition. Someone from the audience invited me to join a writers’ club. That writing club planted the seed of writing in me. So, four years later, I quit my job (as a food technologist) to write. My other breakthrough was meeting fiction writer and author Courttia Newland in London. I used to run a reading session and he came to it. He taught me brevity, appropriate writing and how to tell a story. He made me realise that when you got talent for prose, you need the tool to hound it.

Q. What’s the plan for tomorrow?
I am working on a collection of short stories called The City will Love You. It’s about my interaction with cities, why people feel less guilty living in cities than in the village, how people become less sociable and emotionally distant to each other despite the closeness in the city.

Q. What’s your impression of Ugandan poetry and poets?
The impression is varied. I recognised a similarity between poets here and those from the UK. Both are brave enough to speak about a subject. But poetry in Uganda still lacks the layering required; they are not complex. Although poems should be simple, there should have some complexity. It would be good if poets allow the flavour of local language to seep into the poetry, otherwise for now, it’s the text-book-kind of English. But the playfulness with language is good.

Q. What is your impression of poetry in Africa compared to British poetry, for instance, in regards to theme, style and language use?
In the UK, there is more complexity in poetry than heart. One thing I can’t accuse Ugandan poets of, is lacking the heart in poetry. In South Africa, there is technical complexity in poetry but they also have a healthy and competitive publishing industry, which shapes the writing.
In Ghana, Kenya and Uganda, there is not much to read about contemporary poetry. It’s an impoverishing element and makes us lack the professional jealousy we would get when we compared our work with others.

Q. What does the future hold for Ugandan and continental poetry?
There’s a bright future. The poetry here has a lot of heart; it has just not had enough opportunity for much exposure. However, there is also growing recognition of our work, especially those in the diaspora, who are being encouraged by writers groups such as the African Writers Trust, to return home and share with writers on the continent. Africa Writers Trust was started by a writer who had seen the gaps in writing in the continent. By establishing residencies, people will be able to write and share work. That way, it’ll alter the writing landscape, even though it’ll be for a small group.
But also, once writers pick up the notion of small workshops to critique each other’s work, they can develop new aesthetics that is robust. Intimacy is required in the critiquing groups which should be between four and six people. If the groups are too big, people will become defensive and there won’t be deep understanding of each other’s work.