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 […]
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.
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 […]
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 […]
The Leap
As my fourth post, I feel that we’re beyond the’ Hi-I’m-Simon’ stage if this was a relationship. We’re at the point I’d not be shy to poop at your house or vice versa. (You, reader, are the female in this rapport.) So please, allow me to poop here today. There’s always trying moments in any […]