Dejak and Omolo had never seen eye to eye on anything, until today. They spent their entire childhood fighting each other over one thing or another. Dejak was the practical joker, he once had a friend play dead outside Omolo’s hut, smeared him in red ochre to look like he had bled from a spearing.
Gunshots pierced the air, women and children scuttled like roaches across the city streets dodging bullets. An occasional scream of agony as flesh and bone was shattered by flying shrapnel and debris. A woman lay in the middle of the street, one leg was trapped underneath huge concrete debris, and her free leg was broken
Mwende sat in the sandpit staring at the wind as it blew the trees from side to side when the wind got strong, she would scoop some sand in her little bucket and toss it over her head enjoying the whip of the sand. It tickled her; she giggled ecstatically. The nanny, Susan, was seated
Neema was startled by the sound of a bottle breaking, she didn’t see where it came from, she just saw it land and shatter right before her. She jumped and bolted into a sprint, she heard a deep voice chuckle. The chuckle was quickly disrupted by a violent belch. She turned to see the clown
Last Friday was my Dad’s birthday; he would have been 77 this year. It’s been 16 years since he passed away. I miss him more every day. I have endless questions I want to ask him about his childhood, about my granddad who I never met, what it was like coming of age so far
As the month of January comes to an end, for some it is a celebration because of payday. I celebrate because I was blessed to turn a year older this month- something you can’t take for granted. And I have learnt a very powerful lesson; keep my eyes on the prize. There are so many