De-ranking is what Joe Pestilence called it. By thinking about science more and more, he would- with the resourcefulness of a 13-year-old, think about Angela less and less. Angela was too much trouble and not worth his grades, especially not science grades. One time he had stopped by 7 South to deliver their science books and he thought he saw Angela grab him by the … Continue reading Joe Pestilence and an unlikely double knockout
It is true I did go to school with Sunday. A level-headed lad of 11. I remember him from standard five. Sunday sits in front of Mrs. Omollo’s 5 South and jumps at the nearest opportunity to clear the blackboard. He loves it, we all love it- and we all wish we could sit in front too. The front, however, is for the more gifted … Continue reading How I remember Oli
What happens from here is way beyond your control, and images of you two running up and down Sir McIntyre Street do little to aid your helplessness. Toddlers without a care in the world. How fast things change you tell yourself. In the span of six months, Damaris has wrecked up a solid 21 years of upbringing, and a family too. Continue reading The Last Man In Hampton Street
So you stood right behind her usual spot subconsciously digging for clues. It’s a quarter to 7 and you hope to be open for business before that. You stand, your eyes fixated on the wall with a mop on your hands. It is now that you want to know why she only chooses to sit at that spot whenever she comes to you small juice palor. Here, she has her back to the door, and in her front- a mural, an African woman balancing a pot on the head. You suddenly become aware that the sun is setting on the woman, a detail you don’t remember asking Jose to add when he did the mural a couple of months ago. You had just wanted a woman. Continue reading A friend you make, and never see again
Brother Thadaeus fumed that morning, boiled to the highest of temperatures. How could we? In the house of the Lord? No, that was unacceptable. The misty mornings of April had us in coats, and the cold stung the teeth you could barely say a word. He spoke of the book of laws, of obeying the authorities, he delivered each line with forward thrusts that eventually … Continue reading Because God Will Take Care of Himself
If you ask me now why I sent that message to her that night, I’ll have no answer for you. Instead, with teary eyes I’ll let you see into the abyss of my own confusion, into which I had relentlessly dug throughout my relationship with Hannah, and now I was in it. Continue reading Should I Still Go To Hell?
Wandering Nilote 