Somehow we are still here. Some aren’t so lucky. Some are breathing through tubes in hospitals and will spend Christmas listening to the beeping sounds of machines. Others are making plans to bury loved ones who lie in cold …
My mother, Saumu Rajab W. had wonderful hair. Has wonderful hair. Long, wayward hair as if her thoughts can’t be contained by her head. She had got me early and she had got me with my …
Just after I published DRUNK, I got a call from someone who shaped how I write about female characters. This was late 2018, I was sharing a rooftop office with Fred Kithinzi at Greenhouse. An all-glass walled office, the …
The printers sent a sample of the book to Bett, the book manager, who sent it over to me with a rider. I remember the rider – skinny fellow with a sallow look – because he pressed my doorbell …
Kim jumps at insects, chickens and cats. When a cat passes under a table Kim is sitting on, he raises his feet in the air, like the cat is a flood washing under the table.