Years ago, another lifetime it seems, I was preparing to drive from Nairobi to Machakos Technical Institute for the Blind when someone requested that I pass by that eternally chaotic country bus station called Machakos “airport” and kindly offer this blind stranger a ride. We both had the same destination, Stranger and I. I said,…
I have followed the work of Retina Foundation for many years now. At one point I accumulating several binders of articles on their progress on potential cures that I would print off of online publications. I did this until the organization got a Facebook presence which keeps followers very well updated. I never miss an…
At the beginning of the year, in the throes of the US presidential election’s woundedness, I borrowed these words penned by Rev. Frank Dunn, my former priest. Now I find myself needing to find anchor again as we go through the woundedness of Kenya’s recent elections that have come with so much anger oozing out…
Come my fellow Kenyans, let us sing a song. “Rosa sat / So Martin could walk / Martin walked / So Barack could run / Barack ran / He ran and he won so that all our children could fly.” Thanks for singing along, and thanks Amy Dixon-Kolar for music in revolution. Keywords: Sat, Walk,…
A couple of days ago, I was putting groceries in my trunk when this lady comes hobbling about with bags and all. Can you help me please- she says. I’ve got both my eyes stuck in the trunk so I don’t look at her in the eye and catch empathy. That’s an expensive emotion. I…
Some years back, an organization that catered to immigrants and refugees asked me if I could take two weeks of my summer to run a youth camp. I agreed because the organization’s founder was someone I highly respected. At that camp, I lost a young man. Lost him to a more interesting world. He was…
My neighbors two blocks south kept on wanting me to go visit their temple with them. My resolve to dodge their relentless invitations was finally eroded and I caved in. Off to the Mormon temple we went. It was all my fault. I caused it during casual conversation when I said, having just discovered they…
I’ve always marveled at a marathoner’s staying power. I watch them, especially the Kenyans and Ethiopians, how they start off on an easy trot, as if on a jog in the park, their feet going, step-jump, step-jump, carrying a light body-frame round and round the tracks, overlapping those who cannot keep up without ever changing…
I walk round the bend from the Kenya National Theatre and down Kijabe street, looking for the food kiosks I once knew that stood some place near Text Book Center, or so my frayed memory tells me. There, we would consume chapati-mayai and tea. They think up the most innovative combinations of dishes on the…
October sprinted by, leaving an easily forgotten sprinkle of tired maroons, oranges, and yellows that almost grayed out of fall fatigue. The season had been late coming and already, the trees seemed forlorn, ready to shed their leaves and bow out into hibernation. Something was chasing fall, a bad dream it seemed. Only the maple…