You want to be an artist’s friend? Pay full price for their work

I attended the Etisalat Prize for Literature Book Tour Reading in Nairobi, about two weeks ago.

It was a great event. It’s always nice when the writing community comes together on a cold evening to warm themselves up with beer and a good book.

Present were the winner of the prize, DRC native Fiston Mwanza Mujila, whose manuscript, Tram 83, got him a cool £15,000, a high-end device and a book tour to three African cities, of which Nairobi was the last stop.

Fiston also received an Etisalat Fellowship at the University of East Anglia, mentored by Professor Giles Foden, author of The Last King of Scotland. The whole thing really made me wish I had a novel in me but alas, we can’t all have stamina.

Many literary minds were present, including but not limited to Richard Oduor Oduku, who moderated the entertaining session, Zukiswa Wanner, author and columnist as well as former Etisalat judge and poets Clifton Gachagua and Ngwatilo Mawiyoo, who performed a few pieces to the delight of the crowd.

Of course, Penny Busetto, who was one of the runners-up for the prize, was there, reading from her novel The Story of Anna P, as told by herself.

As with any literary event, there were books on sale, on the counter next to the beer (probably unsafe, but oh well), run by Magunga Williams of The Magunga Bookstore.

As I was watching the proceedings of the evening, I was distracted by a young lady who came up to the books display to check out the merchandise.

She asked how much certain a volume of poetry cost and when told, wrinkled her nose in distaste and said something to the tune of “This book is too thin, it has too few poems. I cannot buy it for that much."

I felt enraged, to be honest. As a poet, and a self-published one at that, I often come across people who barely understand the value of writing your own book, producing it, and selling it – starting from the psychology of coming up with the idea, the outline, the editing, the design and the printing.

Then there's the trekking to the lovely people at Kenya National Library Service to get your ISBN, barcode, etc. The marketing. The selling. Everything. The whole shebang.

ROADSIDE BARGAINING

Not to mention the years of writing it took before you got to a point where you could even publish a book, building your name and your brand to put across something you know is valuable so that others see it as such, as well.

It is these people who tell you that you should knock Sh300 off your book, because it is such a thin volume anyway, probably the same ones you would expect to go to a restaurant and ask for a discount on a Caesar salad if the croutons are not sufficient.

But that’s the thing – they don’t.

In any other profession, unless you’re bargaining by the roadside, when a price is stated to the customer, the customer accepts it.

It puzzles and frustrates me when people, in 2016, are still asking artists for the bei ya rafiki/mwisho/jioni/beshte, as if the years of honing my craft can be reduced to a Sh50 subtraction, and as if they do this for any other profession, and as if you are doing me a favour by spending money on my art.

Listen, art is hard to produce. Period. And sometimes, the price may be steep but artists know how much work they put into their works, believe it or not, which is why they price it as such – so that no one in the exchange gets impoverished.

EXPRESSION OF SELF

If you really want the bei ya rafiki/mwisho/jioni/beshte, then pay the full price for my work. It’s all supposed to be the same price.

That is what supporting art is – if indeed that is what you are interested in doing.

If you can’t pay the full price, there are other ways to help other than useless commentary on what you think the price should be. Come to the shows. Engage in discussions. Talk about it. Be about it.

In my ideal world, I make art for expression of self, and definitely not to beg for handouts, to beg for you to buy my book, or reduce the ‘damage’ so that you buy it.

I valued it at what I thought it is worth. If you don’t have the money or do not feel like it is worth it, then don’t buy it.

But for crying out loud, don’t cheapen me and my skill for how far your wallet is willing to reach.

Twitter: @AbigailArunga