Valentine Date Woes

Two days to Valentine’s day She calls me at around four thirty in the evening. I am just waking up, feeling groggy. “Hello,”I whisper into the thin cell phone that looks like a Samsung but is really a brand from China. ‘Hey Girl,’ Wairimu’s voice squeals from the other side. She sounds excited, and that is scary. “Hey,” I respond back, the smell of stale Malt and cigarettes from my mouth, makes me think its time I brushed my teeth. “I have a deal that could pay your rent!”I am excited before she says what it is although my gut … Continue reading Valentine Date Woes

Dawn comes painfully

Mwanne washed the dishes slowly. Her small hands methodically moved from plate to plate, soaping and scrubbing. Shadows of her smooth black hands danced on the white tiled walls above to the kitchen sink. The electric bulb hanging from the white ceiling illuminated the room, casting faint shadows on the wall. The kitchen was spotless. On the mahogany table to her left, a thermos stood next to a packet of cereals. The soft hum of the fridge accompanied the sound of running tap water. The rest of the house was silent except for the occasional whine of the dogs outside. … Continue reading Dawn comes painfully

The Witch’s soup

He throws in the lizard legs to make her invisible when the need arises. I stir for the first hour, chanting the words. He adds hippopotamus fat, rotten eggs and a pinch of salt. He stirs the next hour and calls me when it turns purple. I blow my nose and let the contents slide into the mixture. “What’s that for master?” the apprentice asks me, face full of expectation. I look at him long and hard. I want to lie but decide not to. “It’s for all the nasty things she is going to do to you Continue reading The Witch’s soup

Becoming a Masai warrior

  “A knife, a spear or a simi?” he asked. “Simi,” she responded after a pause. She raised her face from the necklace she was attaching beads to and looked at him. He lay on the mat, facing the roof of their home. He was shirtless, his small ribs sticking out like the thorns of an Acacia tree on its bark. Several flies hovered over his face but he looked calm, undisturbed. “The Morans will be dancing during the initiation, their hair flying over their heads as they jump,” he continued. “I will stand straight completely naked, with mud applied … Continue reading Becoming a Masai warrior


The wind stopped howling in the dark night and the flail of the waves had become softer. The boat now gently rocked on the waters, moving with the tide. Nikika opened her eyes and looked at her little girl. Wrapped in a bundle of all the clothes she owned, the girl was asleep. Like the rest of the boat, she smell a mixture of sweat, vomit, blood and hopelessness. It was a miracle that she was alive. More than twenty people had died since they left the shores of Morocco. Their bodies sadly and silently dropped into the ocean, to … Continue reading Exodus

Nothing’s changed

I died three days ago. A brutal death I wouldn’t wish on my enemies. My head was split open, my brain sprayed onto the floor of the entrance to the offices where I worked and blood spluttered on my fellow employees. It was that type of death I often saw on those low budget horror movies; where every scene shows the camera filled up with blood and the aggressor satisfied that the body stopped jerking by shooting it again and again. Only this time it was real; the gate, the walls were filled with my blood and the aggressors made … Continue reading Nothing’s changed

Murder in the barn

I killed him. I admit it, I am guilty, I killed him. But I feel no remorse. I mean, the guy was out to kill me. There was no way I was going to let him do that. I could plead a case of self defense but I will not. Maybe you need to understand what was going on before you start telling me to watch what I say because I am going to get into more trouble. I know I am already in trouble but don’t give me that speech about how much more trouble. I have been in … Continue reading Murder in the barn


Men that have brushed shoulders with death know when it comes knocking. Njoro mentioned it a day before they gunned him down on Koinange Street, on a hot Saturday afternoon. He had told me that Friday that he felt that he wasn’t in control of his life. He said he felt like death lurked at the corner. I laughed his fears aside. Which criminal didn’t feel like that? I asked him and bought him another tot to change the subject. That Saturday afternoon, I saw him die. I was standing outside F2 discothèque, talking on the phone when the shots … Continue reading Premonition

Home away from Home

The wind huffed, rising the dirt and slowly lifting up her skirt. She used one hand to keep it in place and the other hand to wipe off the thin line of sweat on her forehead.   The sun was hot, the land dry and hard. She watched her relatives; four young bare footed black lads walk the herd of over fifty thin emaciated cattle to the fields. They walked fast, each holding a long stick with which they used to keep the moving cattle together.   They called out to the cattle, by names and whistled. The dogs ran … Continue reading Home away from Home

The Suicide Note

I found him. He was dead for hours. His body was hanging from the door post, neck broken by the rope he hung himself with. The stool he had stood on before he kicked it away was broken. His death must have been painful. Looks like he kicked it severally trying to find his footing but it was too late. The house smell; Grant’s bowels had let loose in the process. I was going to make that call when I saw the note folded on the table. I took it and threw it into my rag-sack before I called the … Continue reading The Suicide Note