Who are you?

” The lord shall preserve me from all evil, He shall preserve my soul, the Lord shall preserve my going out and my coming in. From this time forth and even forever more, from this time forth and even…. Forever… More.”

When I was a child, some of my first memories were of music. 90s hip hop is my childhood theme, I am born free as they say in South Africa, 1994 baby.

On the first of july I arrived just in time for lunch, as I always do… (maybe my friends have noticed tihihi)

So, yeah, I arrived neh. I was within as they say in my home country Botswana. Even though I was born in Nairobi Kenya, shout out to my Kentswana buddies btw…

So I was chilling neh, then at 3/4 months I got on my first plane neh. I don’t remember how that was… Cause my memories don’t do that, (lmk if yours do in the comments below.)

Then I came to beautiful Botswana. My God, that place is AMAZING .

Y’all should come visit.

Anyways fast forward to 2020.

I’ve always had a hard time explaining who I am and where I am from because I am many things. I am not alone in this, EVERYONE IS MANY THINGS ALL AT ONCE. And that my friends is what being alive means. Being everything and sometimes feeling like you are nothing at all.

Yesterday I felt like nothing.

This morning I feel like a hero.

Saturday night I felt like a piece of actual excrement.

Now I feel like such a boss bitch and you can’t tell me I am not.

So, let me reintroduce myself.

“I am the stone that the builder refused…”

Jk, tihihi

I am Ivy Mutheu Sumbi, daughter of Mbula and Mulu. I am a Kamba woman. I am a Motswana by the virtue of being raised there. I am a Kenyan because I say I am a fucking Kenyan (bitch don’t get me started).

I am African despite having a Disney Channel accent.

I am clothed in strength and dignity.

I am currently laughing at the days to come.

So… That’s me.

Who the fuck are you to tell me otherwise.

Tell me who you are in the comments. You’ve been part of my family for 7 years now. All love.

Xxx

Ivy

Corners

How many times, in this house, have I thought about dying.
How many times have I lived.
Ive walked this hall in pain and euphoria
I’ve lied and cheated people I loved.

I’ve burst open and spilled my blood all over.
Cut some glass and used it on her.
I’ve cried for death, more than I’d like to admit.
I’ve drowned in tears for someone else’s benefit.

My skin became foreign
My soul let me alone
I came out of my own body
I moved out of my home.

I came clean and cleaned myself up
In a vat of alcohol
I lit matches with lost loves
I floated through open doors without my knowledge.

I gave up.
I found love.
I am finding my way through corners.

Bottles :3

When is something beautiful enough to sell?

When does a hobby become a source of income?

I read that you shouldn’t put pressure on your artistic passion to make me money.

I don’t know if that’s true.

Anyway, here is something beautiful I made, when I had enough beauty in me and it spilled over onto my hands.

Rafiki (2018)

Hate is looking her in the eye and saying you love her, but you can’t be with her cause the world doesn’t accept this.

I just watched a story of love and found myself pan handling for change.

I am now both teary eyed and hateful.

It’s so unfair that such a beautiful thing is faught against with such vigor.

Oh… the energy you spend on banning a beautiful film, spend that on bettering our economy, fill in those pot holes, keep those damn corrupt politicians IN FUCKING JAIL.

Paint those god forsaken buildings, preserve national heritage sites, improve the fucking sanitation in CBD, get rid of the fucking pit latrine, stone-age-esk plumming situation by Ambasssader.

Fill out hearts with pride when we think about you.

Make me happy to be Kenyan.

But instead, you deprive us of the Rafiki movie, you don’t support art. You cater to the select complaining masses in Lavington , but not us… The artists, the so called bright future that you CONSTANTLY dim with the array of shit you throw around…

Primitive.

Ironic, you are an unsupportive friend.

YOU are a fucking fake friend.

You don’t have to agree with it to publish it, you don’t have to eat art up and swallow it to support it.

If you let people be who they are, oh my GOD what a wonder we would live in.

Hate is depriving ourselves from the opportunity to change.

Stop hating yourself Kenya.

Please, stop…

Yours Angrily

Mutheu wa Mbula

One story

I am finally realizing what love means

After years of guessing and being afraid to say it

Years of saying it and not knowing what it means

Now I say and mean it

I am in love with you

 

Its not as romantic as I thought it would be

Its practical and messy

Honestly you annoy me sometimes

Trying to solve everything like a puzzle or a sum

When I want to discuss it like a poem

 

When we started talking a year ago

I got the feeling I was a problem you needed to solve, I didn’t want to be

You called me insecure

Told me I needed help

 

I didn’t ask you to help me, but here you are.

 

I told you yesterday that its stupid of you to ask me to promise not to be someone that will nag you in the future.

 

Yes.

 

And its stupid for me to say I love you forever and always, when I just started

Its idiotic for me to want you here constantly and yet be so frightened that you will bore me.

It doesn’t make any sense that it feels like you’ve been mine for longer than I have been.

That I am so aware of every moment we’re together, I keep it logged in my mind.

 

How I feel

How I think you feel

How we breathe.

The way the sunlight touched your face in the matatu on our way home.

How you say home when you mean my place, when you mean me.

How you say you will never leave and I believe.

How I am crying as I write this.

 

I confess I have never felt this soft

As if loving one immensely makes you kinder

Pliable like the clay I am

Yet you have never tried to change my shape

More sensitive to everyone’s feelings and thoughts

More likely to take risks, to fall, not because you will catch me, but because you fall with me

More vulnerable to joy and pain

And for some reason closer to God, more likely to pray

More determined to stay by your side

 

I don’t ask that you don’t break my heart

Because I know I will survive that, I will love harder and deeper after that

I don’t ask that you stay, because I know you will

I ask that you would be honest with me

See me for who I am

Take in the aggression with the silence

The kindness and insults

The many mistakes

The physical pain and complaints

 

Hold out your arms and take me all in

I am yours.

 

And if you find yourself wishing you were anywhere else, with anyone else just tell me and leave.

 

Because you are too beautiful of a soul to live unfulfilled.

And I am too blunt of a sword to be wielded by someone that doesn’t know or understand my power.

I am a selfish lover, demanding to be your only weapon.

I am hard work, missed signals and misunderstandings.

Playing anything other only has never interested me.

 

Don’t try and keep me with promises of a flowery future.

I prefer wild creeping plants, deep greens and tall dark trees with lichen.

I can plant my own garden

But I chose to do it with you.