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…

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 The feeling of home had been replaced by silence and the cold grip of shallow reasoning and hostility.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…