Fourteen Minute Man

You can’t relate, can you? Of course, you can’t. he reverse calls you as the sun goes down with the intent of an impromptu invitation to the dingy bedsitter he resides in. Spicing up the usual preliminaries with a touch of “nimekumiss”, he feigns concern concerning your general well-being because basically, that’s not the point, … Continue reading Fourteen Minute Man

RURACIO

Five o'clock in the morning. No conversations going boring. Just your head laid back on the left backseat headrest in a vehicle where in more than one occasion, the driver assigned is the only adult with the exception of one or two parent figures. The convoy snakes its way into the Eastern Bypass, and you … Continue reading RURACIO

OF SOUNDS, A COLUMN AND NOSTALGIA

“Hujambooo msikilizaaaji…na karibu kwa yaliyotendeeeka…leo tunaangazia…” proceeded the radio presenter, whose name still remains a mystery regardless of his rather interesting delivery being etched into my mind to date. It was always right after the seven o’clock evening news presented by the vocally therapeutic Jeridah Andayi, which preceded the Maumbile segment, one that left me … Continue reading OF SOUNDS, A COLUMN AND NOSTALGIA

I Wept

As the maruti snaked its way out of Naivasha town, manoeuvred by the skilful driver, I looked outside the window, taking in all that I saw as though for the last time; which was somewhat true because it would be the last time in a long time to come. Snack Spot, Antonio’s Pub, Naivasha District … Continue reading I Wept

So Hukuji?

“So hukuji?!” It was more of an aggravation than a question as he mistakenly hurled a half-full tumbler of tap water across the bedsitter apartment and onto a four by six spring bed in the corner. One could almost perceive the soul being sucked out of his being following the confirmed disappointment after receiving the … Continue reading So Hukuji?

Midas Touch

Suffice it to say, there is always that one. Where veritably unrelatable, regard that one pair of jeans, black brassiere or spoon. Fret not, brethren and sistren, if the shoe fits. Love (brotherly, in fact) was the command, never association. There is always that one. I will say it again: there is. Your knowledge of … Continue reading Midas Touch