My Blog
the dead are born every day
Life, for the dead, is within reach of the marble headstones, the comfort in sleeping in friendly proximity to the living.
Nairobi, Nairoberry, KaNairo
If you find yourself 1-v-1 with an avocado and say, “Hii nitakula kesho.” You have already lost that war.
How I Lost My Faith in Church
Jesus has always been box-office. You can tell by how the church, and in extension, religious organisations have been serving...
Elizabeth
In all, Miss Elizabeth would never say I love you back. It made me hate school, for with Miss Elizabeth was all a man had asked for from life....
Honoured Guest
To live was like being an honoured guest. Then you were no longer an honoured guest.
Every Tongue Shall Confess
“I know how to differentiate between an ‘Oh God’ when one is seeking the Lord’s name, and Oh God! when one takes the Lord’s name in vain.”
Potential
To begin in the beginning, the signpost announced, Come in! Come in! The decision had been taken from me. So I went in. It was really a shebeen...
What a drink with a governor taught me about dreams
I asked him, the bartender, to make me the manliest drink he can, because you know how it is in this regime. You don’t want people calling you a soy boy, or an incel, or whatever the manosphere comes up with next. My order is: Something that would make the manliest man you know even more manly. And so he does. It tastes like donkey’s piss, which is what a manly drink should taste like, I guess.
Kampala ain’t no Kanairo
I’d been warned about the women in that district, their thunder thighs and 34DDD breasts. People told stories about them, threesomes and foursomes. I desperately wanted to believe them
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