Learning Abun-dance Through Mutupo

<p>Somewhere between our survival instinct and the persuasions of luxury and excess is a notion that ‘more people means less’ – less space, food, time or learning capacity. What happens when the proverb ‘kuwanda huuya’ dares us to consider that ‘more people does not mean less’? It means we learn abun-dance, the choreography of conviviality…</p><p>imagine a relaxed atmosphere outdoors, night-time. storyteller wears a t-shirt saying 'i want to fill this town with artists', and is gently playing an ancient instrument. academic, dressed in a shirt and tie, is frowning as he fiddles with a gadget (phone or laptop). poet arrives. storyteller immediately stops playing and puts the guitar down, standing up. he urgently ushers poet to a seat, then addresses them both with a curious sparkle they recognise:</p><p>‘What happens when learning from the Global South and the Global North breathe the same air?’</p><p>‘What happens when that air carries the intercultural vibrations of an acoustic music played, spoken, or sung?’</p><p>‘What happens when that music-filled air flow into and through spaces of formal learning?’</p><div><div><div><div><p>This book is open access under a CC BY NC ND licence.</p></div></div></div></div>