"Kimbunga:" A Swahili Poem With My English Translation

Swahili, a major African language spoken mostly in Eastern Africa, boasts a written poetic tradition going back several centuries. Evolving on the northern Kenya coast, Swahili spread down the coast and adjacent islands as far as Mozambique, the Comoros, and Madagascar.

Among the greatest Swahili poets are Ali Koti, Bwana Mwengo, Muyaka bin Haji, Mwana Kupona, Shaaban Robert, Ahmed Sheikh Nabhany, Amiri Sudi Andanenga, Abdilatif Abdalla, and Haji Gora Haji, one of whose poems, "Kimbunga," I am presenting here, with my English translation.

A prolific writer, Haji Gora Haji has published poetry, fiction, a dictionary of the Tumbatu dialect of Swahili, and other works. I was privileged to interview him in Zanzibar. This poem, one of Haji Gora Haji's best known, appears in Kimbunga, his first poetry anthology.

Translating works of literature is a challenging and humbling experience. However, it is also rewarding, sharpening one's understanding and appreciation of language, poetics, and aesthetics.

"Kimbunga" is a moving but intriguing poem. It strikes me as an apocalyptic vision reminiscent of W.B. Yeats's "The Second Coming," while exemplifying perfectly Cleanth Brooks's characterization of the language of poetry as "the language of paradox." I hope someday to write about it and my experience of translating it.

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                               Kimbunga

1.     Kimbunga mji wa Siyu, kilichowahi kufika
       Si kwa yule wala huyu, ilikuwa patashika
       Kimeing'owa mibuyu, minazi kunusurika
       Nyoyo zilifadhaika.

2.     Yalizuka majabali, yakabirukabiruka
       Zikadidimia meli, ngarawa zikaokoka
       Kimbunga hicho kikali, mavumbi hayakuruka
       Nyoyo zilifadhaika.

3.     Nyumba kubwa za ghorofa, siku hiyo zimeruka
       Zikenenda kwa masafa, kufikia kwa kufika
       Vibanda vyao malofa, vyote vikasalimika
       Nyoyo zikafadhaika.

4.     Chura kakausha mto, maji yakamalizika
       Pwani kulikuwa moto, mawimbi yaliyowaka
       Usufi nusu kipeto, rikwama limevunjika
       Nyoyo zikafadhaika.

5.     Kuna kikongwe ajuza, viumbe kimewateka
       Hicho kinamiujiza, kila rangi hugeuka
       Wataokiendekeza, hilaki zitawafika
       Nyoyo zikafadhaika.


                                 A Hurricane

1.     A hurricane once arrived in Siyu town
       Sparing neither that one nor this one, it was sheer mayhem
       It uprooted baobab trees, the coconut trees surviving
       Hearts went panicking.

2.    Big rocks turned up, tumbling over and over
       Ships were sinking, while mere boats survived
       Fearsome as the hurricane was, it raised no dust
       Hearts went panicking

3.     Great storied houses were blown away that day
       They flew quite a distance, landing wherever they landed
       The huts of the lowly, all survived intact
       And hearts went panicking

4.     The frog drained the river, the water all dried up
       On the shore was conflagration, of the waves flaming
       Half a container of kapok, broke the coolie's cart
       And hearts went panicking

5.     A wizened hag there was, who held beings captive
       She is given to magical powers, changing hues at will
       Those who let her be, perdition will be their lot
       And hearts will go panicking.

Another Request for a Translation of my Book

From time to time, American readers of my book, Africans and Americans: Embracing Cultural Differences, have asked me whether there is a Swahili translation of it, and some have requested me to translate it. These are people who have lived in East Africa, as volunteers or visitors, and in inquiring about a translation, they are thinking of the East Africans.

Unfortunately, I have not yet translated the book, even though I have wished to do so for a long time. I know I could easily do it, seizing the opportunity to express in Swahili the ideas and sentiments I have expressed in English, and I have imagined the translation having its own distinctive qualities, different from the original.

Yesterday, I got another request from an American woman whom I don't know. I am so touched by her message that I could not resist sharing some of it here. I have placed dots where I have omitted sentences or phrases:

....I hope one day that you will translate your wonderful book. It is such a wealth of knowledge for me, and I know my Tanzanian friends would feel the same. Of course most good people would never mean to hurt or offend a new acquaintance, but sometimes when we are lucky enough to make a friend from a different country, we can use a little guidance on how to be respectful of each others cultural differences. Your book has given me that gift, and so I thank you for that!....Last year I went to Africa for the wildlife, but I found it was the Tanzanian people who stole my heart. This year I will return and visit Eli's village and meet his family. I am so excited about my visit. That is why it is so important to me to do my best to not be the classic "UGLY AMERICAN". Thank you again for your response. I hope you will consider writing the Kiswahili version of your book in the future. I know there would be many people who would find it both helpful and fascinating, as I did....

I have nothing to say except to remind myself of the famous Latin adage,"Vox Dei vox populi" (the voice of the people is the voice of God), and seriously prepare to translate the book. I thank my American readers for being so supportive of my efforts.

My First Book in Swahili

The year 2009 will remain special in my life as a writer. I published my first book in Swahili, a collection of articles I wrote for a Tanzanian weekly newspaper.


I accepted the invitation to write these articles with some trepidation, even though I found the challenge alluring. I did not have the experience of sustained writing in Swahili. I knew that I had to discipline myself and write in formal Swahili, devoid of code switching.

To sharpen my Swahili and build my confidence, I read the writings of Shaaban Robert, the doyen of Swahili writing in our era. I read his Maisha Yangu na Baada ya Miaka Hamsini, Adili na Nduguze, and Kusadikika, all available from Mkuki na Nyota Publishers.

The choice of topics was entirely mine. I wrote about political, economic, educational and cultural issues pertaining to Tanzania, with constant references to the differences between Tanzanian and American realities.

Now Changamoto is out, in both printed and e-book formats. To call it a labour of love would be somewhat disingenuous and an understatement. Semantics aside, the experience of writing has been both purgatorial and humbling.

I rarely read my own publications. I prefer to be writing something else. However, even though this little book is far more modest than my other writings, I return to it again and again, reading parts of it, hearing my own voice, still wondering how I managed to write a book in Swahili.