Features

The Politics of the Miniskirt (and hippies) in Africa

This article was first published on Medium. Read the edited version on Mail and Guardian Africa.  The recent #MyDressMyChoice protests in Kenya have rekindled a debate that has plagued Africa since independence in the 1960s. Most African countries gained independence at about the same time two trends were catching on in the West.

The Savage Mutilation of Piah Njoki, and her Incredible Spirit

At daybreak on November 4th, 1983, a scream cut through the serenity of Kiaga Village in Kirinyaga. The single scream quickly became cries for help, then wailing of what now sounded like a large group of people. What sounded like the cries of pain of a dying woman would lead residents of the small village …

The Brutal Unsolved Murder of Lucy Kabura

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, …

The South African Cop Who Robbed Banks during His Lunch Break

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 …

When a Mozambican Woman Gave Birth in a Tree

At the start of the new millennium, Mozambique found itself pounded by weeks of excess rainfall and a series of disasters.

How a Patch of the Kenyan Wild Ended up in Philippines

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.

In McMillan’s Underbelly: The Quest for Kenya’s History

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 …

To be Kenyan

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.

Driving into the Sunset: A Story of Second Chances

I was 15 when I next saw her. I was a young teenager with at least three prominent pimples on his skinny face at any one time. A mass of hormones and confusion.  She came to visit on a cold Saturday morning, typical of the month of June in the Kijabe escarpment; a time when …