It’s 2354hours. Tuesday the 31st. I keep throwing a cursory glance at the clock on my laptop, five minutes to beating the January 1st deadline. Cut-off, that’s what they call it. I fear that if I don’t publish these pieces before 2014 finds me, the words will magically disappear from

Binyavanga Wainana’s memoir ‘One Day I Shall Write About This Place’ was published by Kwani Trust in 2012.  Binyavanga is the founder of Kwani, a local literary community which mentors and publishes young African writers. Before this memoir, Binyavanga published several books and essays, the most notable being the widely-acclaimed

The literati of Nairobi hopped about with geekful glee all of last week. Kwani was celebrating ten years of growing the creative industry and had invited two writers – two female African writers – to share in the public space: Yvonne Adhiambo Owuor (winner of the 2003 Caine Prize for

The book of Exodus chapter five to fourteen weaves the tale of Moses rescuing the children of Israel from the captivity of the Pharaoh’s slavery in Egypt. From the very start, Moses felt he wasn’t the right man for the job. Stammering and whatnot. He pleaded his case but God

Last week, for the first time since I started to write for the blog, I approached the blank page and the words simply refused to come. I had an old piece from April ready. What I needed to write was an intro for the piece. I had the idea of

Every day, three times a day, I will get an email update from LinkedIn announcing that one of my connections has endorsed me. It isn’t the update that irks me. Or the fact that my connections have continued to blindly endorse me for skills they know I have right now