BY MIKE MUTHAKA The gavel bangs. Six months in the slammer for five souls convicted of illegal mining. All rise. His lordship is departing. The court marshal leads the convicts down to the cells, where they’re to wait for a rickety van that’ll deposit them in prison. They look pale
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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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BY MIKE MUTHAKA Did you know 2,000 bob will get you 25.84 liters of kerosene in Kitengela? I didn’t. But the guy who mans the kerosene pump at Kobil does. He wears a sweater underneath his lab coat even though it’s a few minutes past noon and the air is
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BY MIKE MUTHAKA Have you ever stood on Mama Ngina street, right outside International House, and one of the guards on the front steps is tapping on his phone, and a lady in a long dress is walking into the building and the sun has gone behind some clouds and
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BY MIKE MUTHAKA A tow truck sits on the side of the road. Cars circle the roundabout and go without noticing the truck. Some pass through Oilibya; they refuel and get back onto the road, giving the truck little thought. The truck is unoccupied. The windows are wound up. It’s
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BY MIKE MUTHAKA My first real kiss came from the girl next door. Tongue and all. She was a year older than I and their fence was a brick wall. Her mom’s plants climbed that wall, clasping on the way –its twigs and tendons like sinewy old arms. Her saliva
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