Karibu!
I’m Bett. I’m a writer and the creator of Craft It, an online brand.
Craft It is built on the stories of Kenyans and the stuff they make by hand.
Surrounding ‘Craft It – Made by Hand’ is other stories about dusty rugs, motherhood, Kampala and conversations we’ve had and overheard. If you squint, you just might see the frivolity that colours the spaces between our words. Later, out of sheer snobbery, we put together a guide about what makes the urbanite tick.
Under ‘Old Blog’ is content from, well, my old blog. www.fcbett. Were you subscribed? To be honest with you, I had made peace with letting the stories go but I later thought to myself, why can’t I have them back? So with a little poking in the dark, I had all the content migrated over here. Let it sit there and warm its little butt.
‘Media’ is published copy I have written for True Love and Saturday Nation Magazine. I have edited these stories to align them to the narrative style of the blog.
We post Monday, Wednesday and Friday.
I am wildly drawn to the creativity and culture in craft – that magic that happens when regular folk use their hands to make local, signature pieces that capture the Kenyan spirit and tell the Kenyan story. It’s nothing short of art. Such are the stories I write for this blog; those plus others that really go nowhere.
I also write with True Love and Saturday Magazine, Saturday Nation and Nation Online Life ‘n Style. I dabble with the Business Daily.
I live in Nairobi with my daughter, Muna, and the king of our kuyo castle, GB.
I am still learning to take selfies. Small talk exhausts me. And I perceive the world in shillings and cents. I ultimately want to write my way into an indie band.
Call me Bett.
I like to spend a lot of time in my room, splayed on a dusty rug. Like most millenials, I’m obsessed with my hair and I can’t bear the thought of walking without my earphones plugged in. My underlying need to please clashes with my natural laziness, and every girl I’ve dated thinks I’m an ass. Three of them called me a dog.
But my real name is Mike Muthaka. And I like to think of myself as a medium for the world. I see things. I smell them and absorb their colours. I feel them in my hands. My default instinct is to pick up on these elements and bring them to you. It’s quite simply like playing fetch with a hound with no leash.
If I stray off you can always find me at my blog over there.
My column here – Dusty Rugs – runs Mondays.
I carry a rush of curiosity, tinges and traces of rebellion and gentility, and a taste for weird cuisine.
I eat grasshoppers.
The truth is, I’m in love with Kampala. I can’t go a day without thinking about her delightful madness. She’s my weakness – irresistible, lively, loud – but a pain in my trapezius sometimes.
She has grasshoppers.
When I’m not on Rwenzori House along Lumumba Avenue working with folks who crunch numbers for a living, I’m strolling along the bottom of any of the seven hills of Kampala, sniffing up sights and sounds, walking the streets and pathways in silence, soaking in the energy. It’s my yoga.
I’m Tuape.
I blog at www.silliedance.com
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