BY FLORENCE BETT-KINYATTI You tell me that your toddler is old enough to reach the door handle and let herself into your bedroom every morning. I find that amusing. I imagine her clambering off her cot, easing herself between the little space of the snugly fitting mosquito net and the
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BY FLORENCE BETT-KINYATTI It’s Friday, 9.30a.m. GB and I are seated in Jambo Jet’s lounge waiting to board our flight to Coasto. Our pal has his ruracio in Mtwapa tomorrow. Our flight is at 12p.m. We bought our tickets over the counter, at Jambo Jet’s sales office at the airport.
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BY FLORENCE BETT-KINYATTI The bad news isn’t that I’m ageing. The bad news is that I’m ageing, and I see it and feel it. I’m 33 now. I wouldn’t have noticed the needle of my body clock inch if I wasn’t so self aware and so alert to the shift
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BY FLORENCE BETT I got up at 4AM this morning. 4.22AM to be exact. It was more of freaky startle than a gentle flutter of eyelids, and a ladylike yawn and stretch. I woke up like a man. I was
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BY FLORENCE BETT Film has been a major bust this year. Honestly, it has. It’s November already and I haven’t watched any movie that has kept me up at night staring into the darkness; there are no
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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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