Mama Cera
He’s back home and I don’t know what to tell him I never know what to tell him anymore Nothing I say helps Nothing I do makes a difference I look at the baby in the corner...
Takahiro
“Basquiat would approve” “What” “The hair” “You like” “No It is pretentious as fuck” “I am sorry, what” “But it is Basquiat’s...
The way beautiful things break
At dawn, she drags herself from the bed, leaving the sheets ruffled into a heap in the center, walks out of the small room and finds herself at the back of the house She picks up...
Caníbales
The phone rang Mama picked Three minutes after 'hello' she was still listening "Thank you," she finally said She then went to her bedroom and came out shortly wearing her...
The Swahilification of Mutembei
Mutembei keenly observes Mombasa beneath the inexorable sun, a town clinging on its designated part on the warm palms of Mama Africa, trying- like any other metropolitan- to curve...
Boyi
Madness entered Mama’s eyes the day Baba pushed my brother Boyi to Matwa Kei and said, ‘‘Hold onto the boy until I find your forty thousand land protection tax and then I...
Less Than a Thing [part 2]
Proceeds from Part 1 Father is snoring Sometimes he growls and whistles through the nose, sometimes he sounds like the train Mother used to say it is like sleeping next to a...
Less Than a Thing [part1]
To be a criminal, you need a sorry background My father works as a drunkard and my mother is the local brewery, but Mrs Thuku caned me for writing that in an English composition...
She Would Talk To Her God
She would talk to her god, often, and he would respond ‘But,’ she would start, as far back as she could remember, ‘but why is this necessary if love is cyclic and...
Baba’s Child (Part One)
It was a hot day Baba was sitting on an old, shredded reed mat under a baobab tree in the homestead, with his aching back leaning against its trunk He was looking ahead in the...
Slipping off the Edge
From time to time, I catch myself It feels like walking, lost in thought, then suddenly realizing that my feet are moving, that I am several streets away from the last...
The Confession of Pamela Tindi
I confess to Almighty God and to you, Father, that I have sinned My last confession was sixteen years ago Since then, I have committed mortal sins This is the truth My truth, as I...
