‘Kivuli & Nuru': Wild and wet in Africa

Mail & Guardian

2 days ago

Desire After Dark re-edit
There are stories that seduce and then there are stories that awaken. Kivuli & Nuru: The Afrodisiacs Collection is the latter.
Produced by HolaAfrica! the two albums of sonic storytelling don't so much whisper to your senses as they dance, boldly and barefoot, across your chest.
Curated by the unapologetically audacious Tiffany Mugo, this collection is a defiant celebration of African eroticism; it is a reclamation, a resurrection, a rhythmic sermon preached in moans and murmurs.
'Kivuli and nuru — shadow and light,' Mugo says, 'are in constant battle. Human desire is always trying to move from the dark into the light.
'You only need to look at someone's Tuesday evening browser history to know that.'
These aren't just concepts, they're mirrors. The shadow is where we bury our want: in prayer, in shame, in cultural silence.
The light is where it spills, bold and breathless. The two aren't enemies, they're dance partners.
Mugo, a daughter of Kenya, roots the entire experience in language that calls home to the soul. The titles weren't always this clear.
'Initially, the albums were separated into white gold and black gold but that just felt lame,' she says.
'The notion of the shadow and the light eventually came to me and I realised we have so many magical ways we speak of things in our various African languages.'
Kiswahili, with its lyrical clarity, carried the intention: 'I wanted people to know that you were on the continent the minute you saw the title, no time to waste.'
Whispers of the Tryst
This clarity is important because African erotic storytelling still exists in a contested space. The stories in Kivuli, especially, are not soft-focus fantasies. They are textured, layered, emotional, and personal.
'The call for submissions was essentially, 'Go wild!'' Mugo says. 'And that's exactly what they did.
'People wrote about secret crushes, rural loves, fantasies on public transport. Desire is not universal — it is personal.'
But while the experiences are intimate, the locations ground them. Kivuli & Nuru don't take you to the usual, Western suspects.
These stories move through Afrobeat clubs in Lagos, down side streets in Nairobi, in the quiet moments of Cairo and beside a roadside mango vendor in Cape Town.
'Desire is at your doorstep,' Mugo insists. 'It is not a visa application and a 14-hour plane ride away.
'The continent is a character in this anthology — one could argue the main character.'
If the stories are homegrown, so too are their contradictions.
'Africa has a rich history of physical intimacies relegated to, and lurking in, the shadows — cultural spaces, mythology and the like,' Mugo reflects.
'But we also have a very 'robust' history of suppressing those desires.'
Kivuli & Nuru are not offering escape but confrontation.
'Even the existence of this work is an instance of that epic battle; desires that have been shamed into the shadows coming into the light.
'That, and I am sure I have family members clutching their pearls at the thought of this existing.'
Interestingly, masculinity and femininity fade as fixed concepts in the storytelling. 'These are very personal narratives, some fantasies, some memories, some fictional musings,' Mugo says.
'We're met with simply humans who have sensual, sweet or freaky thoughts. When the lights go out or stay on, if that's your thing, those societal roles start to melt.'
The sensory richness of the collection is intentional. It doesn't just tell you what's happening — it makes you feel it.
Tiffany Mugo, curator of Kivuli & Nuru: The Afrodisiacs Collection.
'Rachel Wamoto, the mind behind sound mixing and mastering, wanted you to not only hear the voices but for the sounds to sit in your skin,' Mugo explains.
'It's like literary ASMR [autonomous sensory meridian response]. The sensations needed to come from more than one sense.'
The result is hypnotic. A gasp, a whisper, the distant sound of beads against skin — these are not flourishes. They are invitations.
As for distinguishing fantasy from reality? 'Each author was given carte blanche,' she says. 'These stories just … are. Like WhatsApp, the sources are encrypted — even I don't know what's fantasy and what's real.
'I could know an honest-to-God immortal being, if the story I Killed Flowers For You is to be believed.'
Mugo understands the emotional reactions to these stories will vary.
'This collection will touch different things in different people, depending on who you are, where you are in your love and lust life, what your history is or what your politics are.
'Even your current location could affect what comes up. I want this collection to come for all the emotions, good and bad, but all I ask is you feel something. Anything,' she says.
And what if what you feel is discomfort or arousal?
'If I am completely honest, the most important emotion is stirring in your unmentionable areas because these are erotic stories,' she says. 'Even if you are a little mad at it, feel something delicious.'
Audio storytelling was a deliberate choice: 'With an audio offering, we are doing the heavy lifting.
'You can lay back, relax and let us do the work.'
And there's a deeper reach, too. 'Spotify and Apple Podcasts mean that people can access Kivuli & Nuru anytime, anywhere — unless it's banned in your context, of course.'
The differences between Kivuli and Nuru were organic, not orchestrated. 'Goodness, you make this seem far more thought out than it is,' she responds. 'I wish I was this level of maestro, but alas, not in this life.'
The emotional distinction isn't structural — it's spiritual. Kivuli lurks. Nuru glows. The people within shift, blur and burn.
But perhaps the most profound impact of the collection lies in how it becomes medicine. 'One of the loveliest things I heard during this process was a contributor telling me, 'Wow, that felt amazing to put to paper and also say out loud in the studio.''
Mugo knows that erotica is more than titillation, it's transformation.
'It lets us imagine past the selves we are told we can be. It pushes us to think about the premium subscription to our wants, our needs and our sensual selves.'
This isn't about climax. It's about clarity: 'Even if you can't get to the summit just yet, at least you know where your journey is taking you.'
And for those who still think African sexuality is a blank page or a single story? 'We're not just a gaggle of countries that can't wrap our heads around desire, autonomy and general delicious goodness.
'We have a rich contribution to the global conversation about intimacies, wants and fantasies. We've been doing this before the boats arrived, and we'll keep on doing it, despite what people think. It stays wet and wild here on the continent.'
So listen closely. The voices in Kivuli & Nuru don't just tell you how we desire — they remind you that we've always known how.