MY COUNTRY PEOPLE

When I went to sleep, everything was perfectly okay. *** Just like every other enthusiastic citizen that wanted everything back to normal, I went to vote. I braved the adverse weather¬† and fear for my life. My brothers on the other hand put their tools down and picked banners and stones to support what they…

THE PETAL GAME

He loves me…he loves me not… When a boy tells you he loves,it i s probably the first time you will hear this from him and he will not do it in person. A text or a mere meme will do it. he will tell you he loves you on his way out of a…

A LETTER TO THE PAST

Dear future self, First things first, be alittle bit hard on yourself… Are you whom the person you are looking is looking for? You are consumed with finding the ‘right one for you’ but are you the right one for who you want? Are you the mirror image of what you would like to offer…

DEAR DEPRESSION

It has been a rough couple of day,weeks,months years. You have forever followed me like a shadow, and oh! Your still here. We have made it this far. I am proud of us. We did not commit suicide or give up on life amidst all the pain and frustration life has gifted us with. But…

LETTERS THAT MATTER

TO MY SON, This letter, unlike your sister’s Tafari, has been the hardest thing for me to write. With her I simply wrote things I wanted to hear from my mother and things that I heard, until it occured to me that with you I am free to recreate the image of the modern day…

MAN DOWN

He could not feel his legs and all he heard was a sharp ringing and high-pitched sound. There was so much dust in the air and debris all over. He could not see where he was and could not recall how he had gotten there. He must have been the only person there because he…

SCARRED BEAUTY

She had never been a bad person in her life, but she was many other things that many people never bothered to know. All she wanted was to be beautiful in his eyes, she was insecure. She¬† always went unnoticed and with each day, she craved for his attention. Every night her pillow was something…

STORY OF MY MOTHER

The story of the struggle of a single woman who was ready to defy all odds so that her daghter could live the large life

PAPER TOWNS

I ran out of his room crying, clutching my mitumba high heels. It was well past midnight. It was insecure outside, but the inside of his self-contained room taunted me. The feeling of home had been replaced by silence and the cold grip of shallow reasoning and hostility. I has sold myself short, and  I was afraid….

DEAR NAIROBI

Growing as a in Nairobi has been both a thrill and a hustle. As a child not growing up in Nairobi, was like a bad thing. we would call fellow children not from Nairobi ‘washamba’. Being  a mshamba meant that you did not wear like us, you did not watch the cartoons we did you…