EMMA MOGAKA Executive Director – Rural Women Peace Link Last July, I decided to start a series on my blog focusing on profiling people I have met who I respect and have such powerful personal stories. I started some interviews and everything went on ice. Why? To be honest, I don’t really know why, but
Mary laughed so hard, she began to cry, her tummy ached with every heave of laughter, she clasped it with both hands as tears of joy streamed down her eyes. “You are killing me, Annie, stop!” she managed to muster in between laughs and tears. Annie continued to tell the story which left the rest
Mwanzia opened his eyes and took in his surroundings, the grey mouldy walls made his chest tighten. He could feel the particles of mould float into his nostrils he hacked and spat violently on the floor to expel them. He raised his hands to wipe his mouth, he was stuck, he raised his upper torso
Last week wasn’t easy; it was a heavy week in more ways than one. It was extremely productive but it didn’t bear as much fruit as I had hoped. I was a bit disappointed in how it ended. As always, there is a lesson to be learnt to keep propelling myself forward. Over the weekend
On Monday night a friend, Anna, called me frantically, I was a bit surprised, I had never heard her sound so worried. Ever. I asked her if she was OK, to which she replied she was, then she explained that she felt out of her depth in something. “OK?” I responded and she proceeded to
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.