A KENYAN URBAN NARRATIVE

I was socialised Gikuyu.
Growing up in the Kiambu of the eighties, all I ever wanted to be was a blinged out Gikuyu.
I wanted the Datsun twero, the ‘Godfather’ hat, the cowboy boots.

I do not write. I protest.

For Bruno Schultz my private Pole: a lesson in translation; anticipating progress in your work.
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Well it is bye to strangers who might come back our way as admirers in the made up ‘bravura’ of our revolution. Those are what ifs… The demons we didn’t kill- destined to come back and haunt Nairobi. Unless we turn them into Goddesses on the eve of the...

I learnt to tell stories in a world where there was no theory. I knew no Feminism; I was just a boy telling the stories of the life and the living in the idiom of my world. I knew no historical materialism; class struggles, just that there were things...