Greetings, friends:
I would say “Happy New Year,” but that window has closed with the quiet confidence of a resolution we didn’t keep past January. I would also apologize for the silence, but the truth is, we’ve been exactly where we needed to be: in the thick of building something with you, for you, and alongside you at the Africa Media Festival.
And what a gathering it was.
There’s something about AMF that refuses to be reduced to a program lineup or a speaker list. It lives in the in-between moments: the laughter that spills between panels, the flags raised not just in pride but in recognition, the quiet exhale at the wellness station, the unplanned choreography of dancing in the rain. That’s the thing we’re always trying to build at Baraza: ecosystems of connection and imagination. Brief, beautiful proof that community, when nurtured intentionally, can feel like home. (The irony of saying this during my first newsletter of the year is not lost on me)
If you were there, you know.
If you weren’t… let’s just say your absence was felt, but so was your FOMO.
Next year marks our fifth edition – a milestone that feels less like a celebration of longevity and more like a checkpoint in a much longer journey. A moment to ask: what does it mean to keep gathering, meaningfully, in a world that keeps fragmenting? We’re already thinking about it. Let’s figure it out together.
In the weeks since, like many of you, I’ve been watching the world unfold in real time, particularly the war on Iran. If you’ve been paying attention, you’ll notice it’s not just the events themselves, but the performance of them. The declarations. The superlatives. The reversals. The contradictions dressed up as strategy. One moment, victory is announced. The next, threats of “boots on the ground” are made. Then, diplomacy is suggested, before other countries are asked to join in the efforts. It’s disorienting, until you realize: this is the environment. Not an anomaly, a feature.
We are living in an age where information doesn’t just move fast, it shapeshifts. Where narrative is almost a bigger battleground than geography. Between breaking news, social media spin, state propaganda, and algorithmic amplification, clarity becomes a moving target. We’re not just trying to understand what’s happening, we’re trying to understand which version of what’s happening we’re being shown. The ambiguity is not accidental, it’s structural.
Closer home in Kenya, something quieter (but no less significant) has been unfolding. The “Niko Kadi” wave has been one of the more encouraging civic signals in a while. Young Kenyans are mobilizing each other, not through institutions, but through culture, social media and peer pressure. Through language that feels owned, not imposed. Over 200,000 new voter registrations is no small feat. It’s proof that apathy isn’t permanent; it just needs the right spark.
But, as with all things that gain momentum, it didn’t take long for the noise to arrive.
Attempts to co-opt the message.
To redirect the energy.
To turn a civic tool into a political instrument.
I recently spoke to a young activist who had been deeply involved, and you could hear the frustration. The sense that something organic was being diluted in real time. But here’s the thing, and maybe this is the part we don’t say out loud enough:
The mission was never the hashtag.
The mission was the shift from disengagement to participation. From silence to action. In that regard, the work is already happening. The registrations are real. The consciousness is building. The momentum, even when redirected, already spurred an awakening and still carries traces of its original intent. Sometimes we get so caught up defending the form that we forget the function.
And maybe that’s the thread connecting all of this.
From global geopolitics to local civic action, one thing remains constant: the noise is not going anywhere. If anything, it’s getting louder. More sophisticated. More convincing. But the goal was never to wait for silence.
The work—your work—is to remain clear in your intention despite it.
Not everyone is called to fight the noise. Some are. Some will build careers, platforms, even identities around dissecting it, challenging it, or trying to quiet it (laughs in Wamunyoro). But not all of us are assigned that role.
Some of us are called to build.
To organize.
To create.
To move things forward quietly, consistently, and sometimes, stubbornly.
And that requires a different discipline: the ability to focus.
To put on metaphorical (or very real) headphones and continue the work. To resist the pull of every distraction masquerading as urgency. To remember what you started, and why.
As we step into the Easter weekend (a season that, at its core, is about renewal and purpose) consider this a gentle nudge:
Do your part.
Not the loudest part, not the most visible part, your part. The one that aligns with what you’ve been called to do. The one that, if left undone, leaves a gap only you can fill because if there’s anything we’re learning, over and over again, it’s that the world doesn’t get better because the noise disappears. It gets better because, despite the noise, the work continues.
See you on the other side of it.
In the meantime, here’s:
What I’m Reading:I can feel you rolling your eyes as I suggest this, but the book Pep Guardiola: Another Way of Winning: The Biography is more than just prime footballing lore. It’s a masterclass into doing things differently, sticking to where you want to go, managing so many different talented people and knowing when it’s time to move on.
What I’m Watching: Strip Law on Netflix. Against my better judgement, the writing on this show is gold.
What I’m Listening to: Anna Deavere Smith: Four American Characters. This 19-year old TED Talk always amazes me because it is the most literal embodiment of empathy. You’ll see why.
My best,
Martie Mtange
Curator | Baraza Media Lab
Member Spotlight: Too Early For Birds by Ngartia Muruthi
- Who is/are Too Early For Birds and what do you do?
Too Early For Birds is a series of theatre productions based on Kenyan History. It is produced by Story Zetu and focuses on advancing Orature (school might have called it African Oral Traditions/Literature) in its contemporary sense. We build each edition on rigorous research, and writing which is rooted in the present, ending in performances and re-enactments that are in conversation with the socio-political happenings of the day. The result is often more of communion with our people in the audience than the old definitions of staging or watching a play.
Our most known show is the Tom Mboya Edition, which was on stage 22 times over 5 years and watched by 15,000 people. We have also told the stories of Muthoni Nyanjiru, Nyayo House Torture Chambers, Otenyo Nyamantere, Zarina Patel, the Bukusu Resistance of 1895 at Lumboka, Timothy Njoya, and multiple more.
- Tell us about this edition of Too Early For Birds?
Our current project is the Wangari Maathai edition—focusing on the life, work and legacy of the trail-blazing scientist, professor, organizer and Nobel Peace Prize winner (for environmental work). It is created in collaboration with The Green Belt Movement—which she founded & led—and is on stage from April 10th to 12th at Jain Bhavan Auditorium in Loresho, Nairobi.
This project matters because it takes an in-depth approach to understanding both Prof. Wangari’s life, the circumstances that demanded her actions, and the lesson that can be drawn from both aspects. It involves academic, technical, and artistic professionals from multiple fields and generations at a scale that is rarely employed in the Kenyan Theatre space.
- Why is TEFB important to you and why do you think this platform is important to the creative environment where you operate?
Too Early For Birds started as an out for Abu Nuuman and I when we were quitting our corporate jobs to give our artistic sides a shot. We were in our early twenties and trying to understand our identities in a country and continent that had been violently disconnected from history and dignity. It has turned out to be a decade-long masterclass in embracing our stories—both painful and beautiful—while investing and believing in the Kenyan creative scene.
In the eight editions (Wangari’s is the 9th), we have worked on since 2017, we have witnessed an exponential expansion of interest in Kenyan history, theatre, and experimental artistic pursuit. Our heroes are no longer Hollywood coded. Our past is no longer defined by colonial interruptions. Our work as a creative community is now synonymous with dedication, quality and daring.
- In terms of civic engagement, where does this edition of TEFB sit? Also, how can younger generations connect with what Wangari Maathai was doing then, in comparison to what we see happening now?
This is the one edition of TEFB that is most aligned with civic engagement, participation, and education. Which is quite a feat since the entire series is built on that framework. It has to do with the subject, the timing, and the season.
Wangari Maathai’s life was one long form of civic action. She was in a generation of pioneers in girl education (during the fight for independence) who broke field/career/gender expectations by excelling in the academic and professional fields they joined. She broke social norms by refusing to abide by patriarchal constraints, confronting the university, her vengeful husband, and the courts themselves. By joining rural women on the ground, she broke science out of laboratories and put it in the hands of regular (and so called illiterate) Kenyans who used the knowledge to empower themselves, lift living standards, and reverse environmental damage. Through her uncompromising principles, she was constantly at loggerheads with President Moi and his KANU government even before she joined mainstream politics to help usher in democracy.
Our current government is made up of the mentees, children and political orphans of Moi and his regime. They are hell-bent on taking the nation back to a dark past of looting, abductions and murder. Every public green space that Wangari fought to protect, from Uhuru Park, to Karura Forest to Aberdare National Park has been in their sights. We are headed to an election featuring an incumbent who is associated with the multiple post-election violence episodes Wangari agitated against.
The people have found their voice once more though, led by young people. We are experiencing independence, multi-party (Saba Saba) and 2002 type of political participation once more. Amplified by the internet and education introduced by the government in which Wangari was an assistant minister. This is the kind of consciousness she lived and worked for. Younger people can learn a lot from her kind of fearless organising, down-to-earth community participation, and unrelenting drive. Which is why we are offering a batch of free tickets to students and those who have already registered as voters.
- How can we participate?
You can participate, first, by spreading the word. We need everyone to be aware of this show, and as many as possible to attend—so we can pay our teams a living wage.
Second is by picking up the gauntlet Wangari threw down for all of us. “What is your little thing?” She asked. Ours is telling the story, then following in her steps. Everyone has a way to contribute. Plant and care for a tree, or fifty. Whistleblow, organise or show up for a protest to protect public resources. Educate your community, and use your knowledge and skills for their betterment. Support those who are targeted by oppressive forces like she did with the Mothers of Political Prisoners. Carry out your civic duty by taking part in national conversations and the electoral process. Speak up! The follow it with action.
Third, you could help keep this production on stage for longer. Make sure we sell-out, purchase our merchandise, and mention us in spaces where there are funding opportunities for artists. We are committed to making this sustainable. Our researchers, writers, cast and crew are great conversationalists and speakers. We make for wonderful guests in events, podcasts, open mics, festivals, and other such engagements.
- Anything else you’d like to share?
We have created a web-series focusing on some of the research material that could not fit in the stage script. It is called The Memory Keepers. Please watch it and share: https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PLdl2EnNVYPdblD3YcQR4rFQ_VMTB4GHCl&si=DGbJYbaxjQCsJYwt