You have to see how your child is born. Cancel trips. Move meetings. Walk over bridges. Get on a ship. Travel by night. Stay sober. You just have to see it. They are only born once. It lasts about …
Of course you don’t. You can take a closer look if you want. He does look familiar now that you think about it, doesn’t he? Here is a hint: he is a policeman. That certainly throws a spanner in …
I grew a beard late in life. We are talking 27 years of age. Hairlessness way after your adolescence, when all your peers already look like colobus monkeys tend to make one develop serious hang-ups. You imagine that folk …
Tanzanians aren’t funny. My roommate in campus was a Tanzanian. His mates would fill our small room, cracking these jokes and cackling like hyenas. I didn’t get them. Plus all the jokes were in Kiswahili sanifu. Who tells a …
It’s a red suitcase. Hardback. Gift from my old chum Kagame. She’s out there somewhere. Alone. Tell me, have you seen her? (Cue in MC Hammer’s song here). You don’t imagine you would feel so distraught until you are …
A ‘Book Hangover’ is when you walk around wishing you never finished that book. That angst-laden, nostalgia-fraught feeling, that things will never be the same again after that book. That no author will ever …
