In Conversation with Poetry Slam Africa

In a world that often moves too fast to pause, poetry slows us down. It remembers. It speaks truth to power, advocates for social causes, and offers catharsis to a burdened populace, often all at once. This duality is what gives Poetry Slam Africa its lasting power and impact.

Walking into Alliance Française Nairobi for the most recent Poetry Slam Africa event, you could feel it before the first poet stepped on stage. A collective attentiveness across the room, ready to listen and witness. This was our first time attending but immediately you could tell and feel that Poetry Slam Africa is not simply an event series, it is a living archive of resistance, memory and possibility. Poets have long been the orators of the state of a nation and this edition exemplified this - themes of our collective political struggle, youth empowerment and hope rung in the atmosphere, under the open-air set up in the heart of the CBD.

After the event, we sat down with Ian Gwagi, Founder of Poetry Slam Africa, to talk about where this work began, how it has evolved, and what it means to build something that holds both truth and tenderness. For Ian, poetry was never just about performance, it was about recognition.

Can you share the moment or experience that sparked your journey into this work?

I got drawn to poetry's ability to humanize situations, offer social commentary and express peoples fears and feelings. Knowing someone is going through something similar to what youre experiencing easens the burden somewhat. My curatorial practice evolved off of a need for more spaces for artistic expression which eventually morphed into the creation of a pipeline for alternative art.

How would you describe the kind of care or change your work brings?

At the core of it, poetry has a way of chronicling the times into capsules that can be revisited, offering a reference point and archiving our collective memory. It also dually manages to speak truth to power, advocate for social causes and offer catharsis to a burdened populace.

What’s one thing people don’t always see about what you do?

The potential. I have had the opportunity to work within the space, both locally and globaly, catalyzing raw expression, creativity and innovation to bring signs of an industry in its infancy. Our work has offered temporary employment to hundreds, inspired thousands to take up poetry and will hopefully create millions for performers, writers, teachers, poetry practitioners and service providers. Possibly not in our lifetime but eventually.

Who or what keeps you and your team inspired when the work feels heavy or resources are low?

The impact stories. You get to interact with what poetry has done for people, the opportunities it has offered them, the dark places it has helped people out of and the change it has sparked, and you are more convicted about why it is needed.

Who has poured into you or shaped how you show up for your community?

Obvious picks, family and friends. I have seen people come through in incredible ways to offer social, material and even psychological support. Outside of these, I have a few peers across the continent with whom I share small victories as well as losses, use as sounding boards for ideas and turn to for advice and encouragement.

How do you sustain yourself while giving so much to others?

I work as a creative consultant, design projects, teach, farm, run small enterprises for my produce and dabble in logistics. These and anything/everything to keep the lights on.

If you could dream big, what would the impact of your work look like in your community five years from now?

I'd like to see an industry. Talk about creation and skills development, platforms and infrastructure, monetization and revenue models, distribution, business and professionalization, audience and cultural consumption, policy, funding and ecosystem support, documentation, archiving and legacy. Essentially, connect poetry to economy, to community and to policy.

If you could ask your community one question, what would it be?

What is poetry worth? And who decides that?

How do you centre care within your work?

After doing this for a while, I realize that good intentions often times cause a lot of harm and it is important that we intentionally create safe space for lateral growth, artistic exploration, psychosocial support, welfare and benevolence. Some platforms,  especially competitive ones like slam tend to adversely affect participants and real care, mental health support and community should be a key component of program design and execution. Which is something we are intentionally incorporating into our programming.

Do you have any upcoming event(s) you'd like us to mention?

We have the 2026 Slam Africa calendar coming up that will constitute 3 preliminaries culminating in the Grand Slam for 2027, our regular Poets You Should Know,  Mizani and Nuetry events as well as workshops and the Women's Poetry Slam. We will be sending the 2025 women's slam winner to the All Africa Women Poetry Festival in Accra, Ghana in May and go for the World Poetry Slam Championships in Durban, South Africa in October.

In a time where artists are often asked to give endlessly without support, Poetry Slam Africa reminds us that creativity deserves safety, sustainability and respect. The question Ian leaves us with, 'what is poetry worth, and who decides that?' feels like an invitation. One for communities, institutions and audiences alike to reimagine how we value art, the people who make it, and the ecosystems that allow culture to thrive.