Wanjiru’s Son

A friend’s post took me to this raging debate about Kikuyu men with women’s names for a surname, and how one non-Kikuyu man has created a stink from it. Short story: I went to Primary school with a boy called Peter Wanjiru. Standard 7. I knew nothing. Our teacher used to make fun of poor…

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Crime-Free Power

It takes a lot to say some things when the hand that feeds you is the same one that slaps you. You weigh it against your moral true north, you realize you have fewer years ahead of you than behind you, and you no longer have the luxury of accommodating strategic fear. For a crutch,…

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Price of the Ticket

We sat in that cafe, catching up on new thoughts and theories I might have discovered. My presentation was due the next morning and I was giving it a test run with my boss, a retired Captain with a voracious appetite for philosophy and painting. He said- You know, I’ll tell you about this one…

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