Yeah, yes, it’s me again. EDDY ASHIOYA. Biko is away, in shags somewhere, fussing over his grass or pigeons. Old age, things. Anyway, I’m holding forte here. I haven’t forgotten the directions to this place, even if the rain …

Everybody has their ‘Obama argument.” This is when one person holds a view, a theorem, a speculation, about Obama and the other person counters it passionately because we all feel invested in the man. But this wasn’t even an …

Of course it’s about the head. It’s the final dedication, the last hurrah. Nobody starts to eat their fish from the head like he was. You save it for last. It’s even in the constitution if you care to …

I’d never join a book club. I’d be kicked out. The leader of the book cult would say, sarcastically, like a villain in a dark story where characters carry shovels into the woods at night, “Biko, maybe this isn’t …

Where were we? 

Right. Dinner in Stellenbosch. And here is a big man sporting big guns with ropy veins curling around them and a smile as wide as a Smokie. And Beatrice, our protagonist, is feeding off the plate …

In December I woke up in a very charming, American style country home nestled in a spice farm called Uhoreru Farm in Loldaiga, Nanyuki and got onto a mountain bike. I cycled for 12 kms in the punishing heat, …