The hot and humid coastal air constricted into the Tangana Lodge’s dimly lit and badly ventilated rooms . The fragrance of purchased romance reigned over the humid evening air in the house of decadence. As the night came to a climax, the sounds of illicit sex, the loud banging on the walls, the rehearsed screams, …
A tall man wearing a fake wig and a beard parked his hired car and walked towards the bank. He pushed through the door and walked in, right past the guard and towards one of the cashiers. It was a cold mid-morning in Durban, and the bank was not yet as busy as it would …
Sometime between May 1976 and February 1977, 102 wild animals were herded into large wooden crates at an undisclosed location in Kenya. The crates were then bundled onto the overnight cargo train to Mombasa, setting in motion a series of events that should never have happened.
This piece was originally published on the Medium Blog here. I hadn’t planned to spend my entire afternoon like this. At least not at first. I was in town, with a few hours to kill and I knew exactly what I wanted to do with them. I always know, but I never get round to …
They came out in droves. From every corner of their little sandy town, they all came. Old men with shukas wrapped lazily around their waists. Middle-aged women with hardy hands. Children with mucus loosely hanging from their nostrils.
A few years ago, I sat in a university auditorium during an inaugural TEDx event. One of the presentations was by Ayeyaa, the comedian who carries a signature briefcase and wears a newsboy’s cap.
When I saw images of Abdul Hajj, I automatically knew he was not a Kenyan cop. There was something about him that told of affluence, a man who gyms in a proper facility and eats well.
A few weeks ago, in an online discussion about the forgotten, neglected, unnecessary history of the Mau Mau, a very good Kenyan was kind enough to correct my oversight by telling me “twitpic a photo of your PhD in History so we can believe you.”