That our cow’s tits..

That our cow’s tits..

Let me introduce myself properly. I am just an ordinary Kenyan who spends all her days trying to evade paying taxes. Kanjo and I have a fetish for hide and seek. The chasing, we do it all the time. I even dread the day I’ll have to start paying them up because that is the day all fun will stop.… View Post
Of anemic wallets

Of anemic wallets

My guardian angel is one sad fellow who walks around with his face contorted into an ugly scowl like a Kenyan whose salary has delayed for a day. He never says it but I know the kind of thoughts he harbors in his mind about me. He thinks I am pathetic. I see it written all over his face every… View Post
Men, smell of something

Men, smell of something

From the movement of his long fingers, he is cramming. His notes, carefully drafted, sit on his lap like a kid having its diaper changed. His letters are carefully shaped, too carefully shaped for a civil engineer. For a man. Apart from his Chinua Achebe like fro, he is just about as interesting as my grandmother’s maize farm. Only with… View Post
The fault in my chapatis

The fault in my chapatis

All my life, I have dated men from church. Men who speak of the realms of the blessed. Men who sing, and sing good. Men who love to call upon the higher Man. You can not blame me. It is partly my mama’s doing. She, like any other African parent, instilled it in me that good men are only found… View Post
16 Years of Chloroquine

16 Years of Chloroquine

  8-4-4 squeezed me tight in one final embrace before letting me submit my last paper on Friday at exactly 1pm. Wading through 8-4-4 has been like chewing chloroquine tablets every morning for 16 years. By the end of it, even your waste stinks of it. You can hardly stand the taste of your own saliva. The little manners I… View Post
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