Share this on WhatsApp Inspired by a true story Part 1 “Anything else?” I asked Lucy as she was giving me the brief for the day. The tone of my question clearly indicated that I was only fishing for a ‘No, sir! That’s all’ response. Lucy shrivelled a little and…
Share this on WhatsApp Story by: Jones Wafula Lukorito Even though it was only 10 am, the sun shone so vigorously that the prison van was Nebuchadnezzar’s furnace. At the driver’s compartment sat two corporals who had introduced themselves to the jail-birds as Tiriongo and Kamande. Smoke from the cigarettes…
Share this on WhatsApp In his mind he referred to himself derogatively as Dead Man Rolling. Even then he felt like he was giving himself more than due credit; no one with ‘dysfunctional family organs’—balls and testicles— deserved to be called a man. He often mused whether he was even…
Share this on WhatsApp My longtime close friend, whom I’ll call Robert in this article, found himself in cupid’s chokehold during our sophomore year. I still recall how giddy he was the day he introduced me to Stella (not her real name). “Now I see why you’ve wasted no time…
Share this on WhatsApp I recently had my birthday, and my wonderful kith and kin were on hand to ensure I had a good time on my birthday. After the day’s jamborees and merry-making were over, however, I withdrew to a solitary place to take stock of what I have…
Share this on WhatsApp I have a friend who always wanted to be an actor ever since our high school days. She filed newspaper clippings of interviews with famous actors and learned all there was to learn about the movie and TV industry in Kenya. After high school, she auditioned…
Share this on WhatsApp With all its advances in technology and especially social media, the 21st century is perhaps the toughest era in which to be a young adult. This is because everything is so superficial nowadays you hardly encounter authenticity. Take beauty for example; do we still have what…
Share this on WhatsApp The lengthened electioneering period in Kenya has caused jitters among the citizens and anti-poll protests have become the order of the day in Nairobi. During one of such picketing sessions, a group that called themselves ‘Nairobi Business Community’ organized a parallel to counter the anti-poll protests…
Share this on WhatsApp From Cairo to Cape Town, we are still struggling to pick our jaws from the floor after Donald’s Trump’s unsavory description of African countries alongside Haiti and El Salvador. We had cut Mr. Trump some slack when he had earlier insinuated that all Nigerians live in…
Share this on WhatsApp I am informed that it was raining cats and dogs the night I came into this world more than two decades ago. After lengthy deliberations, my elderly kin decided that I shall be called Wafula, a name that was commonly given to children born during the…
Share this on WhatsApp In Kenya, no matter how eloquently you speak the Queen’s English, you won’t pass muster as a politician unless you are also able to address your constituents in their mother tongue. As the pithy truism by Nelson Mandela goes, “If you talk to a man in…
Share this on WhatsApp “Why are foreigners the ones collecting most of your paintings?” I asked the above question to Kinuthia Mbugua, a Kenyan impressionist based at Nairobi’s Maasai Mbili Art Gallery. The response he gave me also provided an answer to what was going to be my next question,…
Share this on WhatsApp Guest post by: Julie Hope Ambani When I was young, all I wanted to be when I grew up was beautiful. I wanted to have velvet smooth skin and nice hair. I wanted to be the girl that no boy could resist. This was of course a…
Share this on WhatsApp An ardent reader of this column, Mr. Michael Hatego, recently wrote to me mourning his watchman and his newspaper vendor. I felt his pain, because I know how hard it is to get a decent newspaper guy for my old man, Grandpa Richard. The deaths, Mr.…
Share this on WhatsApp You’ve heard the saying “Out of the frying pan into the real fire,” which was coined back in 1985 inside Justice Erastus Wepekhulu’s courtroom. My skin recoiled as the judge, whose scarlet red gown reminded me of the blood drenched airstrip during ‘the assignment’, condemned me…
Share this on WhatsApp Like a broken record, I have been ranting and raving against abuse of drugs by my comrades for two years now. I have fought tooth and nail to see my comrades shun deleterious substances such as boiled marijuana, liquefied miraa and second generation hooch. It now…
Follow