I will want to cry at the dusty gates of Kiambu District Hospital, but I won’t. I can’t. Not with my grandmother looking at my brother and I straight in the eyes, her eyes expecting, no, daring us to cry. I will hate her. My cucu, my grandmother. For her courage. Courage honed by years spent supporting the Mau Mau insurgency. I will hate her for her stinging words. I will look around, and I will see, without seeing, life floating by. There is a man selling sweets at the side of the gate. But I can’t see him. A…
Author: Kinyanjui Kombani
Kinyanjui Kombani
Kinyanjui Kombani, ‘The Banker who writes’, is a learning facilitator at an international bank, and the author of six books. www.kinyanjuikombani.com
I never wanted to go to campus. By the time my letter of admission to Kenyatta University came, I was a pool addict living in Ngando, a slum off Ngong Road. I was making what I saw was a tidy sum daily from betting. New pool ‘experts’ were being made every day, and I knew that after four years of campus it would be hard to come back and reclaim my spot as the reigning local champion. My brother convinced me to try out the university for a week, and hooked me up with a student in KU who would…