Kwaheri Chelsea

Her name was Mercy. But at that age we weren’t too big on English, and names had to have nice playful rings to them, so we called her Masii. She had an amazing pair of legs, Masii, we all wanted to touch her legs. I suspect her elder brother Dan knew we obsessed over her but he wasn’t bothered because he was cool, he laughed a lot, we liked him as much as we did Masii’s legs. Masii was the only girl that could play with us in a time when touching a boy was taboo. She had guts, guts and a round face. Masii was beautiful I tell you, and she reminded me of Mary from Hello Children. You didn’t read Hello Children? Come on, Mr. Kamau and the blue bus?Read More »

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Guest post

I wasnt here last week. I made a commitment I know but things happen, and as you read this I’m knocking on a tall girl’s door. But more on that later. Now I hand over the mothership’s keys to our usual guest; Mwaniki Nyaga. He wrote this piece amid a short notice and sent it to me on sato. He always forgets to capitalize, this lad. But I like him, he says things. He titled this one: Of Ice And Heat Waves. I’ll be back next week friends.
Mwaniki? todhiee…Read More »

The bug

She found you in a rubble. You were a mess, a ticking time bomb, waiting to implode into depths of insanity. You spent a good chunk of your days and a lot of chapaa in swanky bars, drowning yourself in frothy drinks, to feel that what they say is the taste of legends. But it’s really to feel the aloofness burn your gut. The aloofness of life heading straight for a brick wall and it’s so close you can smell it, that wall. Smells like failure. You begin to eat and sleep more, you watch hopelessly as your midsection expands more.Read More »