For worse for better

A twenty-seven years old nerd. He is a computer science student. Still living with his parents! He is short and plump. We sometimes call him “kijana fupi round”. The guy at his age still asks for fare. He calls his mother for airtime. He calls his father for lunch.

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For worse for better

He was literally crying. I hope he doesn’t get to read this. Anyway, he is that kind of ‘boys’ who take Weetabix crumbled in milk

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I can make a decision today! The decision of following you. I wish I could be your shade and the sun shine forever. I did not understand the meaning of a relationship.I am a coward. Was it a fact that you changed me? Yes, I say with certainty. The last time you warned me against... Continue Reading →


He was born in a thunderstorm. He grew up over a single night. He hates everyone that he comes across. The last time I met him, he threw hurting words against me. "I hate the people who feel entitled, they feel like they were born of a man who makes currency..." His words against me... Continue Reading →

She is always cool and silent. I remember the day we walked across the Suswa hills in search for shelter. The year was 2007, when Kenya was in the midst of hate wars. We used to live along Lake Naivasha, a place known as Kamere. It is postulated that the name Kamere was derived from... Continue Reading →

High school was a bully!

"Maroon ehh, Maroon haa" we shouted repeatedly. We were around some place named "Kona" I think it is named after the shape of the road. But I never saw a corner anywhere there. It was only a curved road. Whoever told Kenyans that anything curved is a corner must be the same person who told... Continue Reading →


  Yes, I have been waiting for this moment.A moment to unravel and flipping the story of Matiangi's As. To some, it will be like a sandpaper being moved along their fleshy hearts. In fact this story is "fictional". Actually my intention is direct. Let me not waste your time by doing what brought my... Continue Reading →

Happy Me

Do you know it is painful writing? When you write with everything charged. Everything you have is at stake. The bidders are celebrating.. The bidders are "eating" our sisters The bidders are killing our sisters Perhaps, the common malady is that day When the so called analogue generation sent into the box the "secret" paper.... Continue Reading →

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