The past week has been hard. You’ve been finding it hard to punch in some few words for the blog. It’s been those weeks replenished by negative energy. Everything seems to be against you and your existence. You wake up, and as you slog to the bathroom, you hit your pinky toe against the edge […]
Author: King
King is a mad writer on the loose. He is suspected to have lost his mind a few years after he was born. Since then, he has been writing his mind almost everywhere he can put his pen on. Someone – a government, a state, a police force, a parent, a teacher, a rabbi, a president, a sacco, a doctor, a deranged ex, a church, a therapist, or anyone with a bit of power bestowed upon them – should reprimand him and help him.
Maya and Phones
Last weekend I went to ocha –one of those shindigs Nairobi city-slicker relatives organize to get away from the city’s hullabaloo and pell-mell. They want to get away from car loans and mortgages, from rude bosses and crazy matatu drivers, from assignments and deadlines. They want to run away from the sad charade they have […]
Dear Heart
I’ve never been a sucker for poetry. I’ve always thought it’s corny and ostentatious. It’s not hate; it’s more of indifference towards it. Look at the poets roll their eyes. I don’t mean it in a bad way. I’ve written poems too but I’ve deleted them as soon as I’ve typed the last letter. I […]
About a boy
I don’t think this article needs an intro. So I’ll just get on with it. He is born in the mid-nineties in a hospital somewhere in Eastleigh, Marie Stopes Hospital. After 6hrs of labor, he breaks out –or rather, he’s cut out– a rosy hearty 3.7kg babe ready to take on the world. He’s also […]
Of church and plastic smiles
I go to church every Sunday. Ok…not all, but most. That’s how good mama raised me. It may or may not have involved a bit of violence from her in my younger years. (She knew her way around slippers and mwikos). Church is wonderful. It’s peaceful. It’s the only place you find true pure joy. […]
Your Grace
Days are a bewildering spectacle. They pass by you as you ‘continue to exist.’ They leave you untouched. Uninfluenced. They ignore you. Look through you like you’re mist in Limuru; especially when you’re on your long holiday with no job… or purpose whatsoever. You wake up in the morning because it’s morning and sleep at […]