One day, when I am old and walking around with a –curved at the top- stick, with a cool reputation for a storyteller, when I have a white beard covering my face and my scalp sticking above what’s left of my hair, when I have moved into my retirement home in a far-flung place, like Kisaju, when I am standing at the door leading to the backyard of the quarter acre plot, overlooking my fish pond and sugarcane trees, when my kids and their kids have come to visit, and my kids’ offspring are running around waving their Ipads in the air, I will call them next to the fish pond where I will sit on a stool and make them gather around like it’s a political rally.Read More »
He gets up from bed together with his wife at cock crow, even before the sun licks the edge of the horizon. The lady shuffles into the kitchen to make breakfast for him and the kids. He slides into his brown leather shoes and sips a cup of hot tea as fast as he can and he’s out the door.Read More »
It’s like this.
You’re riding in the back seat, going home on a Saturday evening after a great deal of the day was spent taking swigs at beer bottles and you don’t take water to pace it down, that’s for people who generally can’t stand the heat, plus you have nothing to lose, it’s not like you’re the one sitting on the bill. You check your phone to see if that girl you secretly like has texted you back, nothing.Read More »