Kwanita Kepe on ‘Ingcambu (Xhosa) - n. Roots’

 
Portrait of Kwanita Kepe, poet and author of 'Ingcambu (Xhosa) - n. Roots'
 
 

Kwanita Kepe is a creative currently living in Toronto, Ontario. She is of South African and Trinidadian decent and spent the first 11 years of her life in South Africa. At 28 she has spent the last few years really coming into herself in a multitude of areas including but not limited to, her work, her faith, her culture, and her art. She is a mental health advocate who loves educating, coffee and safe spaces. She has dreams of one day combining everything she loves into one super dream job.

 

What was the last thing that brought you joy?

While I try to find joy in everything and everywhere, I can confidently say that last thing that brought me noticeable joy was signing the lease on my new place!

Where did your poetry journey begin?

At a very young age I became an avid reader. It helped that I was home schooled so library trips were perhaps more frequent than most. With my love for reading came my craving to write, so from the first poetry unit I began experimenting with my own words. They were dramatic, too rhymey, and not very good, but I loved them.

What is a core theme of ‘Ingcambu (Xhosa) - n. Roots’, and what called you to write about it?

When I thought of the theme “roots” I immediately thought of two things, plants being the more obvious one and then my cultural roots being the other. Most Black North Americans are disconnected from their cultural roots, but I am blessed to not only know my culture, but also to have spent my formative years immersed in Xhosa traditions having lived in South Africa for 10 years. I am sure it is no secret that being Black in North America is not the easiest thing, it requires a certain level of resiliency. This poem is about how isolating it can feel growing up Black in North America, how we try to figure things out, who we need to be to fit in, without seeing the full picture. Without seeing how our culture holds us and calls us to be at home in it.

Tell us about the experience of writing this poem.

I had a whole bag of mixed emotions writing this poem. The experience, while extremely fulfilling in a way that only connecting to your roots can make you feel, was also very difficult. When it comes to poetry, I tend to only write when I am inspired to, and the words flow accordingly. With this poem I decided to write it rather than having it call to me. This caused me to second guess myself, and third guess and fourth. Trying to blend both the story of physical plant roots and story of cultural roots really stretched my ability to work with metaphor. I love a challenge, but I also like knowing that my art is authentic. Although I took a different route than I normally do, I feel that when I finally let go of the pressure I was placing on myself, I was able to write a cohesive piece that expresses the idea of roots exactly the way I see it.

Where does poetry fit into your life?

As I have recently been packing to move, I have rediscovered diaries and notebooks and school journals all with poems scribbled sporadically on their pages. It has always been an escape for me. A way to be as dramatic as I want to be about relationships I made up in my head, or about sadness blacker than the depths of the earth. Eventually life gets busy though and there becomes less time to escape. I stopped writing poetry for many years. Although I did have a year where I read mostly poetry books. Then recently I began getting closer to my now best friend and he loved writing poetry and he was amazing at it. As I read his work and critiqued it as a consumer, it reminded me how much I loved to write and so I began to challenge myself. Now when emotions seem too heavy to hold I channel them into my poetry and every once in a while my friend and I send each other prompts from Instagram pages and challenge each other to write a poem by end of day. I love the feeling of being stretched creatively and I’m overjoyed that poetry is back in my life.

What inspires you?

In the least cheesy way, everything. I believe a huge factor is my faith. In seeing everything in this world as a God breathed work of art I am able to draw inspiration from the bird outside the window of the café I’m writing this at, or the feeling I have waiting for my best friend to finish his shift, or the person busying themselves in the food truck across the street. It’s all art and it’s all inspiring.

Is there a poem you read over and over again?

It may be a bit controversial or basic but it’s a Rupi Kaur poem. I have it as my lock screen hence why I read it over and over again. It’s the one where she says she wants success not for herself but so that she can share its benefits with everyone around her. Not only do I relate to this but I use it as a constant reminder. I have some pretty big dreams, and I know I will accomplish them, but more than anything I need to accomplish them for every single person I know. I want nothing more than to share my future ‘milk and honey’.

Do you have a favourite poet?

Not really, no. I do find that the poems written and shared by my friends are the ones that hit me most though. I think there is something about reading it and hearing it in their voice that really touches me.

What advice would you give to someone new to poetry?

It’s okay if you hate some of your poems. As artists we tend to be extremely self critical and that’s okay, just don’t let it stop you from trying. Not every poem has to be a masterpiece. Just write. And find a poetry buddy or even a whole community. It is so fun to challenge yourself through prompts and see how differently we all interpret them. Lastly, don’t play the comparison game... IT’S A TRAP.

Why do you write poetry?

Same reason I do every other form of art that I dabble in....because I have to. There is so much beauty and pain in this world, if it weren’t for the ability to channel the way all of those things make me feel I would simple become too full. I’d burst. I can’t hold it all and I am endlessly grateful that I don’t have to.

You can read Kwanita’s poem here.

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