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...
by Eddy Ashioya | Dec 6, 2024 | Uncategorized
To get to Ongata Rongai, you board those decrepit buses at Railways. The route is 125. Fare could be anything between 50 bob and 120 bob, depending on the mood of the conductor, the rain or the number of traffic officers on the road. If you are in a different tax...
by Eddy Ashioya | Nov 8, 2024 | Chinedu Tales
Shyly the girl jumps into the pool. She’s teaching me how to swim, but I am learning how to leave. This falls on the wrong side of my pleasure principle. This won’t work. The swimming, and the relationship. She’s a good girl. The kind of girl God gives you young so...
by Eddy Ashioya | Sep 13, 2024 | Chinedu Tales
There is a boy next to me making love to his Smirnoff Ice. Smirnoff Ice tastes like expired antibiotics, but I don’t tell him that. A girl and her lover make way to ask for a matchbox. They reek of Dunhill cigarettes. I haven’t smoked in years mostly cause I end up...
