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Take me to Spain. Or not

BY MIKE MUTHAKA I’ve been toying with the idea of learning Spanish. I don’t say it out loud though, I don’t want my ancestors getting hot under the collar over such drivel. “The boy has lost his head,” they’ll say, “twarũĩire wĩathi nĩguo waragie Spanish?” 

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Another thief in the night

BY FLORENCE BETT-KINYATTI I’ve had two miscarriages. I had the first one when I was 25. I was a year fresh out of campus and as naive as the next 25 year old is. I was still dating my campus boyfriend. When I have the second – at 32, in

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Crying fowl

BY MIKE MUTHAKA I can’t imagine sharing a roof with my cock. I wouldn’t be able to stand the racket my cock makes, especially in the morning. Two cocks can’t stay in the same house. My cock is black. Its neck is so thin sometimes I worry it’ll snap any

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Sankale’s minivan

BY MIKE MUTHAKA You know what really bugged me about being a kid? Not being able to reach the grab rail in a matatu. Everyone else seemed tall enough to reach. They didn’t have to support themselves by the seats. They didn’t look all short and silly. Sometimes in a

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Five for Kampala’s nyama choma paradise at Ku Mbuzi

BY ERNEST TUAPE (Craft It’s new foreign correspondent in Kampala) #1. How to get to Ku Mbuzi You want to have an authentic Kampala experience, so catch a taxi to Ku Mbuzi. Forget Uber, Taxify or Safe Boda – go for our public transport. (Oh, us Kampalans calls matatus ‘taxi’.)

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