Description:
In chai cannot be made in a kettle, Juwairiah speaks of belonging, straddling the gaps between cultures, outlooks and worldviews, and embracing the dissonance of her identity as a British, Muslim, Indian woman. Her verses explore the meaning of home as a multicultural and multilingual household. 'Some mornings, / I peep through the keyhole, / watch her and her father converse in Swahili./ I do not understand their language so instead/ I watch her tongue dance.'
She writes about her connection to her faith and community, poignantly articulating the ways in which these are misunderstood, marginalised and commodified in modern-day Britain, and the verbal and cultural acrobatics involved in having an identity that bridges cultural and linguistic divides. 'We surrendered syllables so that we would fit in, / muted rhymes and rhythms so we weren't booted out.'
Scents and flavours evoke a lost heritage in many of the poems in chai cannot be made in a kettle. The rituals of community and faith create a background rhythm to Juwairiah's poems, the ache of a wistful collective memory interacting with the everyday liminal realities of life as a British Indian woman: 'I heard whispers of brown sacred women, / who lay under darkness, longing for their motherland./ A place where bodies bathe in sweet honey milk, / doused in ancient cardamom pods.'
Brief description: Juwairiah is a poet and educator. Her first collection 'chai cannot be made in a kettle' was birthed during the pandemic and written as part of her MA in Creative Writing and Education. The collection explores her identity as a British, Muslim, Indian woman living in London.
Review Quotes:
'Belonging for Juwairiah is many things, from kneeling on a scented prayer mat, to 'holding the key to different dialects in her mouth': Swahili and Gujarati form the pillars and windows of her house. In this stunning debut, Juwairiah explores heritage and faith with delicacy and a wry rage. 'The Letterbox' is a caustic reply to white establishment racism, while 'No One Uttered a Word' considers colonial robbery with irony and wit. Here are a rich array of characters such as a grandfather who 'carried pockets of Calcutta' to a boy who is taught to be too good at hide and seek by a protective mother. 'We Welcome Submissions from Underrepresented Backgrounds' is a cheeky and cynical riposte to the white publishing industry, proving that this poet brings wisdom as well as satire to the complexities of how to belong.'
- Dr Cherry Smyth