Kaggwa Andrew
Kwivuga is a poetry platform that I learnt about in 2013 and became a regular.
At the time, I wasn’t a journalist but I had started writing and sending my work to various media houses.
Observer had published at least three of my Kwivuga reviews. Besides a few guys such as Edgar Batte, Moses Serugo….. Kwivuga wasn’t every journalist’s cup of tea, in fact, I think there were more bloggers writing about it. (Then blogging was about writing not talking to the camera)
Kwivuga was a poetry platform where everyone who appreciated the art had to be.
At first, it was that well kept secret, known to a few people who looked at entertainment differently.
Then word about the nights started spreading and before it was too late, most of the emerging bu celebrities would be snapping away at Kwivuga. (At poetry events people used to snap not clap)
Besides all that, Kwivuga used to attract very beautiful girls with brains; that audience was just ok for its venue. They didn’t drink a lot to forget what brought them, but they still drank and ate to support the space. Thus as Kwivuga was happening, the waiters would be busy either serving tea, chips, chicken and of course beer.
The set up was simple, a light, stage and a mic stand.
Not any poet would get onto that Kwivuga stage, because it wasn’t just a stage, it was a literary altar.
Then something happened, see, Kwivuga had been in some venue but moved to a new location. And somewhere along the way, Heineken which had just become very aggressive on the Ugandan market, became sponsors.
See, Kwivuga had highlighted poetry but still had room for other expressions in limited portions.
GNL had showed up and recited poetry but also many rappers had showed up to simply rap. Singers had also come around.
When Heineken became sponsors something shifted, the waiters wore green, there were more light-skinned ushers and there was something odd about the audience.
Heineken as sponsors didn’t walk alone, they came with an agency to handle their PR. The agency came with its own team of journalists.
Which means they literally threw all the bloggers and journalists who had been covering it under the bus.
The Heineken-sponsored Kwivuga tried to strike a balance between poetry and music, then later tried to strike a balance between poetry, music and comedy.
Then at some point tried to strike a balance between comedy and music, featuring poetry.
The point is, the show grew, we stopped having emerging celebrities and started having real celebrities in the house.
The audience got sections and well lit tables where Kampala’s finest would sit and clap instead of snapping.
Slowly, slowly, the people who used to snap, the people who loved Kwivuga for the poetry left.
The media wasn’t helping the situation as well, Kwivuga reviews sounded like Heineken activations; photos of revellers taking Heineken always feature more than those of poets. The reviews easily mentioned Salvador or Ruyonga and somehow got away with not mentioning a single poetry performance.
People who had come to Kwivuga left, and later the poets followed them.
Eventually, in June 2014, the last edition of Kwivuga took place at Gatto Matto, marking the end of an era.
And true story, at the time, many poets and fans of poetry had no love for Nunu Umuringa, one of the founders of Kwivuga, hope that changed over the years.
Why the Salvador video? It seems what happened to Kwivuga happened to comedy; the difference is that comedians directly brought their own destruction. Poets were forced to accommodate the destruction.
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