Cafe Maarifa
Bikozulu emphasized being present to the moment is the basis of imagination, it is the epitome of character creation and the zenith of scene manipulation. After all writing is a sum total of our real life experiences. Those experiences, positive or negative make us the writer we are, at any given point in our story telling.
What is life when there’s no much to show off for all the years on this earth? Many of us are finding there is much more joy than we anticipated. We had turned life into a race but spent the whole time staring over our shoulder, turning our head to the side, and obsessing when […]
I am 20 years old, I am through with the two year gap between finishing high school and joining campus. I have never had a breakup. I have never dated someone only to find out all the glittering stars in their eyes were faded, covered by clouds of tears. I have never had a romantic […]
Love is restless like a river, some drain into swamps of validation, others end up in a lake or ocean of companionship and appreciation. They form a delta or estuary in the final moments of glorious courtship before turning into waves trying to break free from the captivity of the sea. Love is defined by […]
The thing with bad dreams is that you may die halfway or scream like a knife has ripped your wrist, but the worst is that you may end up peeing on your bed. Each time you experience it, it feels like something bad, deep guilt weighing you down to the point of feeling as if […]
You can never make a woman like you, any more than a farmer can make the rainfall when and where he wants to get a barn-ful harvest.
The ident left behind by the ring peering through the half-filled whiskey glass. Visible like a scar from a recent accident. If I was in her position I would ask him:
“Where is your ring?”
He had a box cut with hair in the midsection ruffled like chicken feathers. A hairstyle my grandmother said was meant for “borrowing of porridge” when one of my cousins shaved as such during the height of the Ndombolo craze.
When my son was five, I was promoted from being a security guard to a supervisor. A supervisor in a security guard firm is like an army colonel. They salute you. You inspect guards of honour. You tell them to pay attention, notice the glimmer of light on their shoes, the crease on their uniforms and can recommend their transfer at the stroke of a pen.
I tripped my foot thumb on a stone and fell. I reached my arms out to a crawl, but rolled in pain. I started wailing and calling out momma. They laughed at me, saying I whimpered like a little girl who had forgotten her doll while looking for firewood or fetching water. My aunt came […]
Nairobi holds the memory of a cherished childhood friend, you outgrow the play dates, diverge into different passions yet when you meet them you are at home and while time away like they never left. It is more than brotherhood or sisterhood.
