Articles

The skirmish ended as suddenly as it began. The police came, collected broken bones and issued stern warnings that were rudely ignored.

Ever visited a household and got served a meal so crappy you felt like dragging the family to the nearest police station? Perhaps, it wasn't even something fancy.

The once-delicious 'kienyeji' chicken has become long on the beak and short on muscle Kienyeji (traditional) chicken is one of God's finest creations. Easy to hunt and breed, delicate on the tongue, good for the soul, money in the bank.

When I bought my first car, which was an awfully foolish thing to do because I couldn’t afford one, I did what every smart man does. I stuffed an empty plastic can in the boot for in case I ran out of fuel.

I am one of the fake Nairobians who lie to kinsmen that I live in Nairobi. Truth is, like them, I have no clue what happens in the big city of lights because I am a resident of the rural and dusty Machakos County.

Like most Kenyans of my generation, my parents stayed apart for a considerable period of their lives. We grew up in the village with mama, while the old man, a policeman, fought to avoid getting shot by bandits.

I had dinner at this fancy Italian restaurant on Ngong’ Road last Saturday. They served Termitoidae as a starter, but I chose to pass because it didn’t look crispy enough for my tastes.

I spent a couple of days in the village recently, right at the time when thugs were holding villages hostage and slashing people in Bungoma and Busia, which are not too far from my home. In between, I spent a number of evenings shooting the breeze over a beer with the local sheriff, a most amiable police corporal.

Paperwork can reassure us, but it cannot always answer the practical question sitting right in front of us.

From bogus preachers to persistent hawkers, some journeys remain long after the bus reaches its destination.