My old audit office had adopted this policy it called hotelling. Hotelling. Neat word, aye? The first time I heard that word, black and white images of standing at the reception of The Norfolk Hotel came to mind. With Daudi Kabaka lending the image a necessary soundtrack. It was nothing

Like most girls in Nairobi, I have a shoe guy. And a blouse guy. And a dress guy. But I pushed the envelope, and got myself a book guy and a magazine guy. My book guy is at a second-hand stall off Ngong Road. His books are heavily discounted; used

Have you ever heard of Judith Njuguna? Well, neither had I until earlier this year. I first read about Judith in a Business Daily article by Bill Odidi. The story ran in mid-February 2013. Odidi stirred my excitement in the opening line: “Gone are the days when wielding the bass

I get an idea for a story.  The idea is sparked from something I saw or (over-) heard. I drop everything I am doing – even the baby into the bath water – and rush to a blank page to spew it out. Its words ooze out. It takes shape

the fake bourgeois That fake. It started at Uchumi supermarket, the one off Lang’ata Road. At the liquor store to be precise. I met a handful of them as we stood in the queue at this liquor store that seemed to get smaller the louder they spoke and the more

I was published last Saturday. The Saturday Nation. Page 22. Following last week’s post, it was as if the magic and miracle of attraction had worked in my favor, revealing itself to me in a way I had hitherto taken with a pinch of salt. A small win, it is