LIFESTYLE - DURBAN life coach and poet Irene Munthree made her mark at Poetry Africa recently.
The Musgrave resident and artist had her writings published in the anthologies, Drumbeats from Africa and Best New Poets of Africa 2018.
She piqued interest after an interview on East Coast Radio in March where she performed and spoke about her poem, I Am Racist.
The 40 year old, who is also an executive committee member of the Nowadays Poetry movement based at the BAT Centre, is known for her unapologetic passion for poetry.
“My dad was a poetry lover and I was exposed to a wonder with words since a child. I never intended on writing poetry or considered myself a poet. But about two years ago, I noticed my daily journalling became poetry. I only performed for the first time about a year ago.”
Asked what attracted her to the art of poetry, she said: “The sheer deliciousness of the words as they roll off the tongue.”
I Am Racist was partly inspired by Munthree’s experience of seeing a black man perform a poem.
She said it made her realise that as a result of being born during apartheid and the influences of that past, she is racist.
But this is not to be seen in a negative light.
Munthree believes that as South Africans, we need to accept that apartheid is part of our lives, that we are all racist, and need to work through moving past it.
“A lot of my poems challenge the status quo. I am a life coach, so many of my poems are linked to personal transformation and quantum physics, which basically says that when you change the way you look at something, the thing you are looking at changes, hence perspective is everything.”
She continued: “Once we start listening to each other, we may begin to realise we have a lot more in common than we have that’s different, that can be a starting place for social cohesion.
“Poetry affords us a positive outlet for our negative emotions and raises the emotional quotient (EQ), a society with higher EQ makes better decisions. Poets have a question for every answer, especially at Nowadays Poetry. We challenge each to expand our idea of us to include every citizen of Durban.”
Munthree performed on October 11 - answering the "eternal question of ‘Who am I?’”
Since leaving her job as an IT specialist in January, Munthree has had her hands full.
“My life coaching practice called High on I keeps me busy. I left my job to pursue my life purpose of being a catalyst for social, exponential transformation. I am involved in various speaking engagements; blending life coaching with poetry, music and song. I am also working on my poetry manuscript and various songs infusing my love for poetry, rap and deep house music.”
The poem: 'My name is Irene Munthree and I am a racist'
Makes sense if you contemplate it, born in ’79 during Apartheid time,
We were patriotic citizens abiding the laws of the land.
We had no choice you see, crack a book and view our history.
But! If you’ve already made up your mind, then don’t waste my time.
I only cater to the open mind, I only speak to the open ear,
The one who can listen to an alternate point of view.
Like soft clay to a sculptor, I was moulded this way,
conditioning of my thinking so thick like fog,
clouding my judgement and blinding my eyes.
So please forgive me for not seeing you, I was trained not to.
But when you walked across the road that day in front of me;
I knew right then and there that I had in fact become the very thing I’ve detested since I remember me.
It dawned on me, I was a racist pig, I admitted astonishingly.
You see he looked to me like any other ordinary black male, BM with you in the middle,
But now that I had read his mind, I could see quite clearly that he is as amazing as me.
I think back on our racist past with its sexist mask and I wonder, how much longer.
According to I Munthree it takes seven generations before the effects of Apartheid can heal,
Before the oppressed their self-esteem again can feel and a truth bomb explodes in my mind.
I don’t see you as all you are because you don’t see you as all you are.
I’m the mirror that reflects you so if I hate you, you hate you.
Don’t blame me, the innocent party.
I think back to that moment when I watched you in front of me and notice,
You have affected a change in me ‘coz now when I see them, I remember you and realize
The image of you in my mind is a fallacy, every bit a conspiracy theory,
created to continue to feed the greedy.
You are better than that my black brother, so much better.
If only you could see yourself through my eye;
You would see a man with endless potential and possibility with a little lack of self-believability,
A great dad, a father who fulfils his responsibility to his family, to give what he did not receive.
A prisoner to his fears waiting eagerly to be set free.
Yes, I am Irene Munthree and I am a racist.
What about you who I do see and have seen my whole life,
looking up to you like some ideal white supremacy.
A bad case of immaturity, inferiority a complex much of Europe possessed,
Maybe to compensate for a lack of size ability.
Whatever the case I shall endeavour to erase your face as the Boss from my memory.
Because now I see that I am the Boss of me and to you I almost, almost feel pity.
Serving a matriarchy, pledging away your life for allegiance to a greedy Queen Bee.
I admit it, I am Irene Munthree and I am a racist.
You would admit it too if you were simply honest.
When you look at me what do you see?
A naïve Indian girl born with a copper spoon in her mouth, well-educated with a side of shrewd.
Gold jewels, nifty cabs, spicy curry, bunny and biryani. Hair, dots and a saree.
I am all this but so much more.
The parts of me that you do not see because your apparent difference blinds you from me,
come closer my black, white, coloured brother and sister.
You will see me to see more clearly that I have always been your African sister,
Because this too is my country, it always has been and always will be.
My picture is identical to yours, only mine is a different colour.
I am Irene Munthree and I am a racist.
Finally, its admittance sets me free to rewrite my history as a slave set free.
I grab my reclaim to my land and stand proudly as a true African Queen.
My name is Irene Munthree and I am a racist.
I wish you would admit it too, acceptance is the key they say,
maybe the key that unlocks the prison our judgement has kept us trapped in,
so we can finally be free to rebuild our self-esteem, our family, our community and our country.