There are men who constantly stare at themselves in the gym mirror. I can’t think of a greater testimony of vanity. Kwame is one of them- at least he used to nine years ago. Kwame is my boy. This …
Love is a story set among the desperate. Today we are besieged by it, hounded by it. And yet today we beat those drums of love. How can we not? How can we not play to the tunes of …
I lived in Kampala (or Champara) for three years. The city on seven hills, they call it. For those three years we tried to have fun on a shoe-string budget, as only students can. We crashed some house …
I’ve written about women for six years now. This is the same as writing for women. What this means is, not that I understand women more than the next guy, but that I have honed the skill of bullshitting. …
There are guys who work hard at being men. Then there are guys who are just men. A real man doesn’t nurse his manhood. Check this. A month ago a pal of mine called me on a loose Friday …
