by Eddy Ashioya | Nov 14, 2025 | Chinedu Tales
At Wanyee Rd, off Naivasha Rd, off Ngong Rd, was a peddler, first name Bo, last name Lo. He sold shirts and shorts and weed on the side. Or were the shorts and shirts on the side? Don’t matter. He was here on merit—he’d done all the right things, including bribing the...
by Eddy Ashioya | Mar 12, 2025 | Uncategorized
A couple sits across me. Male and female. She is a sylph in a sundress, and from how high she is, I can tell half her height is her ass. She’s an octoroon this one, put here by Jehovah to test me. I prefer my women thin and dry like broomsticks but this one was ample...
by Eddy Ashioya | Mar 5, 2025 | Uncategorized
1. This is how I remember it. Walking in town. Earbuds plugged in. I feel like Sakaja after I have dumped trash at someone’s door. That will show them! So this is what it feels like to be a power bottom? I am in a good mood. Someone stops me, but this is Nairobi so I...
by Eddy Ashioya | Mar 4, 2025 | Uncategorized
TukTuks and bodabodas like a line of maniac safari ants. Wazees in kanzus and taqiyah, ladies in buibuis and younger ones in deras. Boys in football jerseys—Manchester United red; Chelsea, blue; Arsenal red and white. It’s a pastiche of red and blue, like police...
by Eddy Ashioya | Jan 9, 2025 | Chinedu Tales
There was a shylock who ran the economy of the village, and if your parents needed quick cash, they’d swap something in the house for it. We called him Muindi Mweusi because those days only Indians had money. There was always a calculated correctness in him that I...
