Poetic Polylogue: Philosophical Voices from the Swahili Coast

Defining “Philosophical” Poetry in the Swahili Context

A core question guiding the discussion was what makes a Swahili poem “philosophical.” Najeeb Ahmad, whose father Ustadh Ahmad Nassir was a celebrated Swahili poet, noted that many of his father’s poems span various branches of thought – political philosophy, religious philosophy, and more – yet all “present themselves in a philosophical way.” What distinguishes the poems chosen for discussion, Ahmad continued, is their universal relatability and depth. He selected one poem about equality because, as he argued, “everybody in the world can relate to the points mentioned… between the poor and the rich, the disabled and the able, the powerful and the less powerful,” making its audience effectively global. In other words, the poem tackles “the most important questions in society that everybody asks,” questions that lie at the heart of human coexistence, and thus earns the label of being an expression of philosophizing.

Kadara Swaleh added that the very criteria for what counts as philosophy may need broadening when viewed from the Swahili coast. Local intellectual traditions have their own standards:

What people use as philosophy in Kenya’s coast might not be defined as philosophy the way it is understood in the Western sense. But what is philosophy? It is that which looks obvious but is not obvious. — Kadara Swaleh

In this sense, a poetic verse that takes something seemingly self-evident – say, the idea of utu (personhood or humanity) – and reveals its hidden complexities can be considered philosophical. Kai Kresse and colleagues drew parallels to the Bantu concept of Ubuntu (common in South African philosophy) when discussing utu, highlighting how East African thinkers articulate a similarly relational view of personhood. As Anke Graness observed, the project’s ongoing conversations about possible definitions of philosophy suggest that the answer might be “more simple than we think” – perhaps encapsulated in poetic reflections on everyday humaneness and dignity.

Oral Tradition, Poetry as Performance, and Social Critique

One of the striking aspects of Swahili philosophical discourse is its rootedness in oral tradition and public performance. Kadara Swaleh recounted how, in the decades before television and the internet, poetic performances were a cornerstone of cultural life along the Kenyan coast. “Everybody was glued to the radio,” he recalled, as national radio broadcasts featured Swahili poetic songs late into the night. Listeners even sent greetings to each other via postcard messages that “could be an idiom or an insult, but shrouded in poetry,” turning verse into a vehicle for community dialogue and satire.

These broadcasts, often featuring famous poet-singers dueling or alternating on air, “defined the life and aspiration and the thinking of the people,” influencing how ordinary individuals understood love, morality, and social identity. Swaleh gave the vivid example of young people memorizing lines from love poems (such as those composed by Ustadh Ahmad Nassir) to recite to their sweethearts. Such anecdotes show how poetry functioned as a public intellectual forum: long before social media, poets were shaping public opinion and personal relationships through their verses.

Echoing this point, Najeeb Ahmad likened the role of poets in earlier times to that of modern mass media: “Back in the days before the radio stations and the TVs and all of that… the poets used to act like broadcasting stations, and whatever they said… was taken seriously.” Just as a critical news report today might alarm a politician, a satirical poem or sharp elegy targeted at community leaders could make them “become fearful.” In this way, poets served as the voice of social conscience, their performances carrying weight in civic life comparable to the influence of today’s media houses and political commentators. Abdilatif Abdalla, an author who wrote his first collection of poems in prison on toilet paper, was mentioned as one of the central critical voices to be found in Swahili literature.

Notably, this oral emphasis does not mean Swahili thought lacks literature. Rather, the boundary between oral and written philosophy is porous. Kai Kresse reminded the group that many Swahili poems and songs were later transcribed or printed, but often “written texts were primarily for preservation… and the oral speeches of preachers and poets were where ideas truly lived.” Oral prowess, memorization, and live improvisation have long been esteemed, contributing to what one might call an “oral library” in which knowledge is stored in people and performances as much as on paper.

It was also noted that this tradition historically included women’s voices, even if less documented. Women have been vital participants and consumers of poetic culture. Najeeb Ahmad observed that women often formed a significant part of the poetry audience and even composed poems, sometimes offering pointed social critique through verses. Although female poets in Swahili society were less visible in older generations, sometimes because they had to use their husbands names instead of their own, their contributions are increasingly recognized, and “younger women poets” today enjoy growing visibility in the literary scene.

Language, Islam, and the Plural Heritage of Swahili Thought

The Swahili philosophical tradition is inherently interwoven with Islamic thought and linguistic plurality. Kai Kresse pointed out the long-established link between Swahili and Arabic in East African Islam. For centuries, Swahili Muslims used the Arabic script (known as ajami when used for African languages) to write their poems, sermons, and chronicles. In fact, some of the oldest Swahili manuscripts, dating back to around the 12th century, are written in Arabic script even though the language is Swahili. Islamic concepts and Arabic vocabulary became deeply embedded in Swahili expression, and sharp divides between “African” and “Arabic” intellectual heritage can often be considered artificial.

As Kadara Swaleh noted, “Arabic is taught [to children] in kindergarten” in coastal East Africa, but typically with the goal of reading the Qur’an rather than conducting everyday conversation. Thus, generations of Swahili speakers learned to phonetically read classical Arabic scripture (aided by full vowel markings in Qur’anic texts) even if they did not speak Arabic fluently. The Qur’an and Hadith became sources of philosophical vocabulary and ethical concepts in Swahili, blending Islamic philosophy with local proverbs in the poetic imagination.

The influence of Islam is joined by other layers of cultural mixture. A comment by Kadara Swaleh revealed how linguistic and cultural hybridity is a hallmark of Swahili intellectual life. He described how his father (an imam educated in both Islamic theology and philosophy) avidly listened not only to Qur’anic recitations but also to secular Swahili poetic songs on the radio, as well as Egyptian Arabic music. When asked which poetry he usually listened to, he replied that he preferred poets with sophisticated lyrics. “He told me the wording, the message in [the rival’s] poetry [was] too simple, too basic… but when he listened or read the poetry of Ustadh Ahmad Nassir, it pierced his heart.” In those more complex verses, many listeners sensed “a philosophical message [and] connotation” beyond the surface. This anecdote illustrates how a Swahili imam discerned layers of meaning in a lyrical song in an interplay of religious insight and secular creativity.

Kai Kresse highlighted the remarkable internal multilingualism of some Swahili poets. In a biographical documentary by Najeeb Ahmad about his father Ustadh Ahmad Nassir that was shown to the participants, colleagues praised the poet’s “ear for different groups of people and the different kinds of language they used.” Nassir would compose poems in various Swahili dialects – such as Kimvita (Mombasa Swahili) and Kibajuni – and occasionally weave in words from languages like Hindi, reflecting the cosmopolitan milieu of the East African coast. The Swahili philosophical discourse is thus internally plural, drawing on African oral tradition, Islamic scholarship, and even South Asian and Western influences.

The Power of Words in Poetic Rivalry

East African poets sometimes engaged in verse duels or ongoing chains of poems responding to each other, a practice that blends artistic competition with intellectual debate. These poetic jousts could become intense, occasionally devolving into personal attacks or resurrecting social tensions (for example, along lines of ethnicity or social class). Yet they were also a form of public reasoning.

Kadara Swaleh described a famous rivalry (spanning the 1970s–1990s) between two leading Swahili poet-performers. Their followers divided in support, sometimes along heritage lines (e.g. those who identified with older Swahili-Arab lineages versus those from up-country communities). Through poetry, sensitive issues of identity, history, and hierarchy were aired and contested in a public forum. While the rivalry could turn “quite ugly” at times, it also demonstrated how argument and critique were carried out in poetic form, accessible to all layers of society.

The discussants probed why poets were historically both revered and feared in their communities. As one questioner put it, people seemed to fear that an offended poet could “place a curse on someone” or otherwise make bad things happen with their verses. Kadara Swaleh addressed this by pointing to two sources of a poet’s authority: “One source is cultural. Another source, of course, is divine.” In other words, the community grants poets cultural power as shapers of public opinion, and at the same time there is a lingering belief – partly Islamic, partly drawn from African spiritual sensibilities – that “the power of the word” has mystical or divine backing. Even in comparison to a stern elder or a revered teacher, a skillful poet’s single utterance “was enough to make you sleepless for weeks,” Swaleh noted, invoking the image of a traditional stern professor whose one sharp word of criticism could haunt a student.

Kai Kresse offered a nuanced clarification: rather than literal witchcraft or cursing, it is the sheer rhetorical force of poetic language that instills awe. “I think the point… is not so much that it is like a curse… but that the power of language is so fulminant, so strong… that poets can destroy you with the words that they use.” In the Swahili context, a defeated poet in a verbal duel might have to concede by saying amenishinda (“he has overcome me”), effectively admitting rhetorical defeat. “People answer each other until they’ve acknowledged, ‘he beat me.’ …It’s really the fear that somebody destroys you with words – you can’t reply anymore.” Such moments, when a clever turn of phrase leaves one’s opponent speechless, reveal a deeply philosophical dimension to these poetic battles: they hinge on wit, wisdom, and the power of truth expressed artfully.

In this sense, Swahili poets have long been the ethical critics of their society – using satire, allegory, and moral aphorisms in verse to call out injustice or corruption. One elder in the film praised Nassir’s work for its “deep insights” and educational value, noting how the poet infused even popular songs with lessons drawn from religious and cultural knowledge.

Cross-Cultural Resonances

Other participants found points of connection between Swahili poetic traditions and those of other regions. For example, East Asian parallels were raised – Sool Park mentioned the Korean tradition of poets’ “battles” of words and the high esteem for poets in modern Korean society, while Yoko Arisaka and Leon Krings described the Japanese renga or linked-verse tradition, where poets collaboratively build a poem line by line. These comparisons highlighted common threads: in many cultures, poetry serves as a kind of philosophical discourse, whether through competition, collaboration, or communal performance. Participants also noted the role of religious and spiritual themes across traditions – from Korean shamanistic poets to the invocation of Quranic verses in Swahili hymns – suggesting that poetry often straddles the line between aesthetic art and sacred or wisdom literature.

Crucially, the conversation reinforced the idea of an “internal pluralism” within African intellectual traditions. Swahili culture itself is a confluence of African, Islamic, and South Asian contexts, and its philosophical discourse is accordingly layered. Concepts like utu (humanity), which were discussed alongside the Southern African ubuntu, exemplify how philosophical ideas in Africa can echo one another across different languages while retaining unique local nuances. The talk emphasized that African philosophy should not be viewed as a monolith; rather, it is a polyphonic ensemble of voices by poets, religious scholars, storytellers and intellectuals engaging in dialogue.