I told someone that Tony was up this week to write about fatherhood and they said astonished, “What? Tony is a father?!” And I said, “Yep, kwani? Why are you surprised?” and they said, “Because he’s Tony Mochama!” You …
Mid this year I went to Aga Khan to seek medical treatment. Sore throat. You know how they embarrassingly call out your name loudly for you to get into the atrium to see the nurse? I hate that shit …
I’m fascinated by the stories of people who studied in India. It always sounded like they went to war and we didn’t. They are always so texturized with debauchery, with woes, hopes and deaths, and failures and triumphs. Such …
The soundtrack of my relationship with my father has always been silence. It filled every crack and cranny, sipped in and cemented our interaction like melted cheese. He was always there without being there. We saw him. Felt him. …
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 …
