The van stopped at The Great Rift Valley Viewpoint along Nakuru-Nairobi highway. They bundled out to gape at the view and take selfies and update their social media feeds – planting the seeds of Likes and shares,
For the longest time he thought he had nightmares, but they were actually night terrors. Bad people wanting to kill him with long knives, tumbling down deep dark wells, evil stalking him, death in the hands of wickedness.
I was from a memorial with some friends when my brother rang. He never rings me at night, he Whatsapps, so I thought shit, I hope nothing has happened. I looked at the phone then pressed the answer button gently,
I am involved in a project where I interview artists – singers, sculptors, painters, dancers, virtuosos in the form of children who play the hell out of a violin, animators – a project commissioned by the Godown Arts Center.
By Sophie Gitonga “Mama Pendo”
When you are trying to have a baby, it consumes your every waking moment. You imagine looks of solidarity, scorn or sympathy from every face you encounter.
On the way to the Kenyatta National Hospital Casualty department, in a fenced in compound, a willowy Somali-looking man in a white kanzu and a woman in black hijab are praying side by side on mats spread out on the brown grass.