The past is stalking me.

Two Sundays ago, at the Concours D’elegance, I saw my former boss, hands held behind his back, strolling around the yard before the gates opened. The boss owns Village Market and built it from …

Men touching their cars. That’s what the morning of the 52nd  Africa Concours d’elegance felt like before the gates opened. It’s more of a caress but that’s a bit much. It sure felt like it though. With pieces of …

When I was in Uni I’d go to this makeshift gym at a place called Nsambya Sharing Youth Center in Kampala. It was a dark dungeon of sorts, a rectangular room with grills for windows and walls peeled of …

There was ghoulishness at the hospital at night. When the footfalls fell away and the lights along the corridors seemed to scream louder than the screeching silence. Doctors emerged from doorways peering at clipboards in their hands. Occasionally an …