It is the 3rd of October, 2017 AD. We are in Nairobi at a place we once called Langata. It is almost midnight and there is a woman lying in her bed; she is crying. It is an ugly kind of crying, loud and pained without restraint or decorum. It is the cry of … Read more
The gurney was the vehicle that brought in the dead. Limp, silent and unresisting; the dead laid covered in blue rumpled sheets. Sometimes their flesh quivered in the careless abandon of death. The men that wheeled the gurneys to the room where the bodies were kept had little to say. In their blue, numbered work … Read more
It was hard to believe that where there now stood only one grey tree stump, a large forest reserve had once flourished. The myriad of cracks only showed evidence of the ground’s unquenched thirst, which lasted for generations. The only thing that did not seem to mind the harsh conditions was the dust, which happily … Read more
The African short story is an established art form, as is the African storyteller. It is a comfortable format, requiring less commitment from both the writer and reader, but still delivering an engaging experience. In the case of Tropical Fish, an anthology from Ugandan author Doreen Baingana, eight stories are woven together into a satisfying … Read more
“There is no moral. I just felt like telling you a story.” Before narratives became a Buzzfeed-era buzzword, they were made of music and prose and poetry: vehicles of information as old as humanity itself. The world as we know it has amply provided certain types of narrative that as consumers we then modify with … Read more
I The night was as loud as it could get. It was like the final blast to the end of the world. Shouts, shrieks, thrills and cries of passion accentuated the music, which was so fucking loud you could feel your gut vibrating as if the speakers were inside you. It was a big party. … Read more
I There was a place in Karen where the Devil sometimes came through to Nairobi. It was an open field of about a quarter of an acre with a few tall trees, sporadic thickets, and patches of stunted grass. The trees and the thickets had yellow, sickly leaves and the grass was mostly burnt. But … Read more
What if I told you there was something watching you right now. Something that was almost always there watching you. Hiding in the shadows but always around. A constant presence throughout your whole life. If you’re anything like me, I suppose you’d ask why you’d never seen it. Why you’d never even heard of it. … Read more