There’s a story about why brides carry flowers, a culture carried on from the tribes of Europe, I believe, and transferred to us through the collision of cultures. The story goes that the scarcity of water caused the poor to go many days without washing, and that a bride’s flowers were to mask the whiff…
If I were standing on the map of my life time today, I would be standing smack dab on the equator where exactly half my life was lived in one country, and the other half was lived in another. I arrived in this country precisely half my life ago on this day. I’m still here…
Just before the year’s end, I was on the phone with my father wishing him a happy 85th birthday. Somewhere between how-are-you and have-the-rains-come, he went into story mode- A tale is told of the man Adam- dad said. He was given land as a gift by his maker. It was fertile land, capable of…
A Juneteenth Memoir It’s not enough to be free. It’s more important to know you are free. Something happens in captivity situations. Could be any place where your wings feel clipped, where your spirit hangs dark and low like a rain cloud that just can’t shed its load. It took me years to see the…
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…
I’ve never been in a war situation. Never woken to the sound of bombs and wailing of mothers and the wretched rage of men left with absolutely nothing to show for all the years they spent raising families. I only remember waking up to the sound of birds and the vastness of blue skies, the…
When we were kids and new to the magic of learning, we did Number Work in Standard 1 (first grade). Then I think it was in Standard 2 when we graduated to Maths. What numbers become when + – x / was applied to them just totally confused me, especially if the answer was more…
My languages teacher in primary school was probably my biggest inspiration ever. She taught us English and Kikamba, both part of the school syllabus in that part of the country. I think Swahili too, although I don’t quite recall any Swahili text book. She was from Taita, and I know for sure at her home…
There was this day I got a zero in Home Science. ZERO! Really, Mrs. Mungai? Form 2, 14 years old, my first and only zero ever. You need to hear this. This was the practical exam. Mrs. Mungai had taught us how to make two sets of decorative stitches around the hem of an apron….