I don’t understand jazz. I just don’t get it. All the trumpets, the blowing and sweating and sighing. And puffed lips. I don’t get the expressions jazz artists have either – especially those far-away looks on their faces when …
This is what you don’t know about this boy. That when I “met” him some time back, he had just been kicked out of school and he was back home in Majengo slums in Kitui with his grandfather. He …
There is something about Kisumu City. When you land at Kisumu International Airport (You have to say that in full if you are going to say it at all) and you walk out squinting into the bright sunlight, you …
Sometimes I run into a male reader who says, “Your fatherhood pieces sometimes makes me wish I was a father. You must be good at it.” I’m not. Truth is, there are many fathers I know who I admire …
