Babishai Poetricks Creative Children’s Christmas party

The Babishai  Poetricks team held their first children’s Christmas party under the theme of Children, Creativity and African Christmas. Held on 18th December 2015 in Mpererwe, the residence of Mrs. Betty Mugoya, a horticulturalist, about ten children gathered for five hours of poetry and party.

The three Poetricks members, Nambozo Daniellorah, Robert Ssempande and Beverley Nambozo Nsengiyunva started with Babishai Poetricks, doing rhyming schemes, matching colours to moods, word play, poetry and sound and anecdotes.

poetricks 2After that, the event stretched to animal imitations, chain stories, opening crackers and making very long paper chains of about 25 yards.

 

It was delightful to see the children expand their imaginations. They joined in pairs and raced around the garden as part of a rhyming scheme game, made silly faces to bring out confidence and character and much more. We ended by sharing African based Christmas poems and holding a large special children’s barbeque. Our next party will be held as an Easter creative for children on April 2nd.

 

Babishai Poetricks holiday session.

During the first week of the Kampala children’s Christmas holiday December 2015, Robert Ssempande and Beverley Nambozo Nsengiyunva spent three days engaging children in Babishai Poetricks. With six children in total, they began by outling their faces, including features like hair, earrings, teeth and so on. From each picture, the children commented on their friend’s photos, talking about the mood depicted, friendliness,  uniqueness of facial features, thus appreciating one another’s differences.

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Next, was matching colours to moods which interestingly brought varied and unexpected responses, proving once again the under-estimated intelligence of children and their power of observation. Using the five senses of sight, hearing, feeling, smelling and tasting, the children navigated poetic devices and eventually composed poems about their favourite animals, which they themselves named and created stories from.

L’aruge

 

L’aruge Promotion
Emi l’ogel’etiahon I am the sap on the tip of the tongue
Ahoniyakogbọdọgb The mother’s tongue must not become dry
tisaahoniyas’orun You have exposed the mother’s tongue to the sun
orunt’omuhanhan A scorching sun
itọ n gbẹ, ahonnru Saliva is drying, the tongue shrinking
igbawol’ahonna ‘onigb When will the tongue not dry out
 

Gbemil’arugẹ, shemi loge

Promote me, beautify me
An kanitosiodo We drip saliva into the river
Aniọlajuni We say it is ‘being civilised’
Odokomonkannkan, on rulọ The river felt nothing, roars on
Talakat’on se saraf’olowo The peasant giving alms to the rich man
Kosai ma peoshiounpelekesini

Ẹniawifunbajẹk’ogbon

Only increases his poverty, the warned, O Lord, may he reason
 

Gbemil’arugẹ, shemi loge

 

Promote me, beautify me
Tani ‘ofẹgẹsin, Who does not wish to ride a horse
Owe l’ẹsinọrọ, Proverb is the horse of the word,
ọrọl’ẹsin owe Word, the horse of the proverb
ati oweatiọrọ, ahonni papa won, The tongue is field for both
papa l’ẹnkanilẹyi The field you are rolling away
Yoruba ronu, kojinle Yoruba think, deeply
Gbemil’arugẹ, shemi loge

 

Promote me, beautify me
K’amapadabuoyinbo So we may not blame the white man (later)
Odo ti komo wipewon fun itọsioun, River that knows not saliva is being squeezed into it
Oyibogbeitọrẹl’aruge, odiodo, White man promoted his saliva, it became a river
Awawa n da itọsisinu re And we pour saliva into it
Bẹsilagbon, oyesiwa And we are thoughtful, full of wisdom
Sugboniwawakojọb But our acts is different to these
 

Gbemil’arugẹ, shemi loge

 

Promote me, beautify me
Omoẹniibajọẹni If only a child had taken after one
Inuẹniiba dun The heart would have been gladden
Ai bikitani won fi ede se Lackadaisical with the language, they are
Ede, atọkaẹni, Koyẹka fi yẹpẹr Language, one’s identity, we should not make a trifle
Abọọrọ fun ọmọluabi Half word for the citizen
T’obade’nu a di odindi Digested, becomes whole
Ti won banitani o kọorinewiyi If you are asked the author of these verses
Eniemini, emi, AyindeAjirifẹ, fi ọkans’ọgbon Say it is me, I,  AyindeAjirife, who             says thirty (words) with one (word)
Turaki Ile Ojude, Ọmọ ileateniwijọ The Turaki of Ile Ojude, son of the house where mat is spread for talks
K’ọrọpẹpẹpẹ ma ba ta danu So little talks may not pop away
Ọmọ Lalataogboja, Ọmọlabalabaetiwẹru The spoilt one, the flap eared butterfly
Awa ni, ẹnu dun iyọtẹẹ ! We are the one, mouth so sweet salt sours!