My Blog
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
In Suswa
The train to Suswa leaves Ngong at 929AM and gets to Suswa at 1055 AM which is to say it gets there at a canter, which is to say it gets there...
Ingo, 2025
Uncle is drinking again. Busaa. Puyaa. Changaa. All that jazz. Elixirs worthy of any gods. He is telling stories of his good old days, when a...
Your Mother Will Betray You
Every life has a price, and ours weighed less than the air around it.
That Silly Little Girl
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...
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