I have a confession. I did something, something you would have probably disowned me for had you found out before you died. *** About six months ago, I woke up and my legs were heavy. It felt like I would sink into the ground, or even below that. Try as I did, I could not … Read more
As a frequent traveller to Okanowach, due to the nature of my work, I want to share what I’ve learned so far. To be able to visit Okanowach, you must lure it into existence, for this elusive place only makes its presence known to those who can reach it should they try. To get to … Read more
When Natelo was 14 years old, she died. Her mother, Amy, was special; she could see and hear things that no one else could. Sometimes, she could even see into the future — as if her eyes were a God-given telescope. She had been blessed with this gift when Natelo was 11 years old, and … Read more
The door is old. You can see it in the flaked black paint, rusted metal and in the design that has been out of fashion for nearly 15 years. Whenever anyone opens it, it is loud with creaks and groans and rattles. It is like an old man yelling at people who bother him long … Read more
The verandah steps were too steep for a safe passage. I sat with elbows propped on the armrests of my wheelchair. I was grateful that the drizzle had abated. From the foot of the raised verandah, I could hear the gentle throb of an African drum, counterpointed by the chook-chook of rattles and the sombre … Read more
Wherever you go, however much you change, some things will not. There are placeless, immortal, immoral things incapable of growing weary. You can start running away today. They will wait for you at the finish line. When I was six years old, my mother died. It had been raining the whole day. I was … Read more
Skeins of cobwebs hung from the wooden rafters of the mabati shack alongside an assortment of beads and bones on strings. The room had a solitary window that was only partially open and covered with tattered sackcloth. Thick dust motes danced in the pale sunlight that leaked through the numerous holes in the roof. Juma … Read more
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
At 24,000 feet, the great expanse of water he had always known as a child looked little more than a toddlers’ wading pool, or a puddle in a brown field that just happened to be exceptionally blue. Regardless, something was terribly wrong. He turned to look up… or was it down? Orientation was still making … Read more
“What is REAL?” asked the Rabbit one day, when they were lying side by side near the nursery fender, before Nana came to tidy the room. “Does it mean having things that buzz inside you and a stick-out handle?” “Real isn’t how you are made,” said the Skin Horse. “It’s a thing that happens … Read more