Flash Fiction Mkate Nusu Tragedy
When it’s over

The doctor kept tapping on his wire rimmed glasses repeatedly as if to emphasize a point. Onditi was uncomfortable. He had been lying on his back, legs spread and his family jewels exposed from under the thin hospital garment. The doctor stood in front of him looking at his genitalia. “Not good!” the doctor said

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Lest We Forget

Sukuta sat on the ground head bobbing between his spread legs. His right arm rested on his right knee wielding a machete with crimson blood steadily dripping on to the dust near his feet. His son passed out on his lap, his face pale and dirty, his mouth dry and ashy, is arms and legs

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