Boda boda

BY FLORENCE BETT The boda guy whose bike I’m riding imagines we’re two lovers skipping town. He isn’t my regular guy, Steve, he’s just some guy I

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John, the phone guy

BY FLORENCE BETT I have the last Nokia E63 left in Nairobi. I don’t know whether I should be appalled or comforted at making that confession but it’s an ambiguous feeling that teeters on the edges of both. Right now, the phone is lying comatose

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Band night at Js

BY FLORENCE BETT After what feels like house arrest since the State of Emergency, you finally hit the nightclub. Your baby is a year and three months now. Which means she’s not a

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Should I?
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