We imagine the devil to be a furtive figure cloaked in black, a hoodie thrown over his head, lurking in the shadows, his skeletal hands holding a long pitchfork, seducing men and women to steal, rob, lie, retweet idiots, …
The guy on the right has never eaten chicken in his life. He doesn’t know what chicken tastes like. He doesn’t eat chicken. He also doesn’t eat fish. Or meat. He doesn’t know the pleasure of the first sip …
Having a phone interview is weird. You hear things in the background; doors opening, whispers, someone asking if you have seen their socks, a cat yawning, the sound of a saw, water running, a cough, silence, tears, pauses filled …
I first met Arthur Mwai in 2013 on a Jameson familiarisation trip to Dublin, Ireland. It was organised by Pernod Ricard. It was cold – the tail-end of winter. Arthur was cool. He was dressed to the nines. He …
He is 20 years old and there is death in him. He feels it summoning him. Egging him on. Seducing him. In case you are wondering what that feels like; “it feels like dying is the only way,” he …
