BY BETT KINYATTI I am at Toi Market hunting for a bedside rug. (Can I still refer to it as a bedside rug if I intend to place it at the foot of the bed? I think not.) Today is Saturday, the day most purveyors here ‘open the bales’ they
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BY BETT KINYATTI My shrink told me I must create time to play. “What do you mean ‘time to play’?” I asked. She exhaled. “We’ve been conditioned to work, work, work. But if someone stops you and asks, ‘what are you working so hard for?’ you won’t know what to
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BY BETT KINYATTI Many harvests ago, I interviewed a craftsman for a magazine column. She back then handmade children’s furniture from her workshop on Ngong Road. She made them from MDF. It was charmingly gorgeous furniture in baby pink and cream white, coral blue and playful red. The colours of
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BY MIKE MUTHAKA I broke a glass tumbler last week. At a family gathering. Muratina was in plenty. I helped myself to two glasses. And then two more after that. By lunch time I was
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BY BETT KINYATTI Imagine you’re 25. You live in South B with your aunt because your folks retired to Naks and someone in the family had to stay behind to tend your raggedy millennial ass. Your siblings – two big sisters and a bro – are out of the country
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BY BETT KINYATTI I wouldn’t be writing this story if I hadn’t been so gullible to the facades of social media. Scrolling through my Instagram timeline, seeing interior decor hacks I fancied and blindly imitating them. I’m desperate to separate myself from my sins, but I’m reminded of them at
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