Me, Myself & I

On Thursday, this past week — the week that The Pharaohs were sent home while still at home by Bafana Bafana— I had a banter over Money Heist (La Casa de Papel) with two coursemates. —Nairobi is my favorite character. —Why? Because the name is our capital city? —Nooo…she is the one that holds the…

Now or Never

When a person tells me, “I want to give my children a better life. A much better life than my parents gave me.”, this better life meaning a financially better life, I become worried. Because the next generation, our children, will be the most depressed generation yet. And money alone, will not work for them….

Dear Dad,

Sometimes the clothes don’t make the man. Sometimes the three piece suit does not make Baba Kendi. Sometimes the two piece suit that shines like an aluminium foil does not make Baba Omondi. Sometimes the once white but now brownish coat does not make Baba Njeri wa mutura. Sometimes the maroon tout uniform does not…

Key & Hole

I want heavenly sex when I marry! Before he specified the kind of pekejeng he wanted, I had narrated to him and another male friend the story — God & Children — which is part of the series, Men & Marriage on Bikozulu. His sudden outburst was prompted after I narrated this part of the story:…

Us & Us

You give birth. No, before giving birth, you search for a house help. She has to be mature enough to take care of children. You prefer someone with kids. They are responsible, you say. One who is not easy on the eyes — sura pasono. Your are solely the one to keep your bed warm….

Write Your Own Story

Thursday. With the ongoing lecturers strike which sucks by the way, I had a class at 11. The lecturer decided to be a Joshua and offered to take us— the tourists, to the far away land, Canaan. Yours faithfully was super excited, wharra you sayin’! Wednesday, the previous night, I set the alarm for 8.00…

Of Bedsitters and Naked Skin

Have you ever been in an awkward situation? Where you want to get yourself out of it but you can’t or you want to speak but it is like some wet tissue is stuck in your throat. Gross. The year is 2015. I was a diploma student at JKUAT pursuing Mass Communication, 1.2; still there…