Art is a gift that keeps on giving — Frank Njugi

Now and then, we remind and beseech each other to listen to and consume Kenyan art. What if we had a master of both? Seventy-five publications, 15 award nominations (including a pushcart), a chapbook and another on the way, just at the age of 25. A poet, writer and culture journalist, Frank Njugi is a powerhouse.

In this interview, he speaks of how art is the gift that keeps on giving, the silence he needed growing up, a door to a life he did not know existed, an outlet and a companion.

What is Frank Njugi’s backstory?

The one memory I revisit in my mind many times as I lay awake at night or pause at a stoplight on a velvet night, or when looking at a star-filled sky. It is that of this one time while I was a kid, when my father brought home an assortment of books that included trilogies by Ken Follet and Lee Child.

These books made me fall in love with literature. As a teenager, I would discover African poets such as Romeo Oriogun, Clifton Gachagua and Alexis Teyie. I would also engage for a while with a Kenyan literary journal, Enkare Review, where I received my early education in poetry. From these influences, a dream to become a writer unfurled.

So, my backstory is that of a literati whose inspiration comes from the predecessors within the Kenyan and African literary culture. They encouraged me to attempt feats because they as the forerunners did so.

As a culture journalist and critic, it is evident you listen to and consume a lot of music and films. Did you always grow up watching and listening, or is this a skill you have learnt to cultivate?

Since I was young, I have always been a film, music and art geek. I grew up around a lot of chaos. My habitual diversion to the dysfunction as a child was mainly through art. Movies, songs and books. I think this is what forged me, and eventually gave me the ability to express reasoned opinions on art in regards to providing a judgment of its value, truth, righteousness, beauty or technique.

The late Margaretta Wa Gacheru, a Kenyan literature, music and art critic, established herself strictly as the audience and critic. You, on the other hand, double down as the creator and the audience. Does this mean you approach your art criticism differently?

For a critic, the work is to communicate an assessment and an opinion on a form of creative work, such as art, literature, music, cinema, theatre, fashion, architecture or even food. All criticism is based on the equation that knowledge plus taste equals meaningful judgment.

Knowledge of art is not a monolith, so an audience can have a similar understanding to a creator. A critic who is not a creator is like a critic who is if they thread reasonable perspective into their assessments.

Qazini termed you 'Kenya's youngest prolific writer'. How does it feel to have dozens of publications and award nominations?

I am glad that at a young age, I discovered my art to be a personal magic mirror. In it, I have discovered myself, my worth and what my contribution to the world is. But I think of myself as wise enough not to get carried away by all these achievements and let logic fly over my head because there is still a long journey ahead. Up to this point, though, I am proud that every effort I have put into my artistry has paid off. 

I am fond of the work you do at Afrocritik. The books and album you review capture the Kenyan literary scene in a detailed and well-thought-out style. What book are you reading currently and what was your first impression of the book?

I am currently re-reading the catalogue of Sudanese poet Safia Elhillo. This is in line with a profile I aim to do on this phenomenal poet. Right now, I am halfway through her 2024 verse novel, ‘Bright Red Fruit’, a moving young adult, coming-of-age, written verse novel.

It features a Sudanese–American teen and her journey into the slam poetry scene, alongside a dangerous new relationship that threatens her dreams. In the first few pages, I could not help but marvel at how Safia expertly uses prose with the line–breaks, combining the narrative structure of a normal novel with the musicality, lyricism and white space of poetry.

You have previously mentioned art — poetry, to be specific — helped you connect with your emotional side. Would you say art has also gifted you friends? If so, how important is a community to writers and artists?

Yes. Art has also gifted me a lot of friends. Both within the Kenyan artistic scenery and in Africa, especially in Nigeria, where I have built connections that I can only ascribe as profound. Writers or artists with a community of like-minded individuals around them always feel more capable, more able and better creators than they would be otherwise.

I am both inspired and proud of the friends I have met through my endeavours within the artistic space. In Kenya, fellow young writers, and artists such as Keith Ang’ana, Naomi Waweru, Amanda Nechesa, Natasha Muhanji and Tony Ogwa, have become people who, when I engage with them, I become a better version of a writer I would otherwise not be.

What are your thoughts on the current state of the Kenyan literary scene, which you are now part of?

Kenyan literatis are winning prizes and releasing works that do more than spell a booming scenery. My heart gladdens when I get to witness writers like Peter Ngila become the first Kenyan to win the James Currey Prize for African Literature, and Kiprop Kimutai become the third winner of the Graywolf Press African Fiction Prize, or Dennis Mugaa release an amazing short story collection through a leading publisher, Masobe books.

We are living in exciting times and I am glad I am here to witness it.

If I were to guess what work was written by you, I would probably select the one with new words, perfectly structured sentences and a quote. What is your favourite quote at the moment, and how did you stumble on it?

My favourite quote now is by one of the central figures of modern African literature, Chinua Achebe. “It is as though the ancestors who made language and knew from what bestiality its use rescued them are saying to us: Beware of interfering with its purpose!” Achebe says. “For when language is seriously interfered with, when it is disjoined from truth … horrors can descend again on mankind.”

I came across this recently while reading the 2008 profile on Achebe by New Yorker’s Ruth Frankline. A profile that examines the lingering question of which book should be considered as the great African novel. 

In 2023, you published a chapbook, congratulations on that! Should we look forward to another chapbook this year?

I have another forthcoming chapbook in late September. It is titled ‘Ujana’ after my poem, which in January 2024 won the inaugural Sevhage-Agema Founder's Prize. It is being edited by acclaimed Nigerian poet Jide Badmus, who will publish it under his organisation Inkinspired, while the cover illustration will be by Martins Deep, a 2023 Sillerman Prize semi finalist.

I am also in the initial stages of working on a full-length poetry collection, and an essay collection.

Supposing you had the power to create the perfect literary space in Kenya, with page poetry included, what would it look like?

A perfect literary space in my opinion will be one in which young writers find spaces and mediums to get published and have their work showcased, especially poets. As it stands, there is a huge lack of such spaces in the country. Although it is right to note that avenues such as Qwani, Rafinki and Goethe Institute’s Amka Forum exist and are doing their best.

What more does Frank Njugi have in store?

I recently joined forces with fellow Nairobi Writing Academy alumna Naomi Waweru, Mwende Makulu, Brian Muraya and Lena Anyuolo to curate a poetry anthology. We aim to seek out the best young poets in Kenya and beyond, pay them for their amazing work and eventually publish a free anthology, whose goal is to showcase the existing literary talent. That is the project I am currently working on.