The Shift

There is a restlessness about me coupled with a listlessness that I cannot describe. I am filled with a longing for something definable and at the same time nebulous, something that I can more feel than transmute into tangible words. And this very same something fills me with a longing, and alternately, a depression. I …

A little more on writing

Bear with me on this one. It is often considered pretentious and conceited of a writer, especially one just starting out, to write about writing, meta-writing. Some days ago it occurred to me just how invested I am in writing. I think this is not an entirely good thing. You should not tie your identity to something …

Grandparents: Maternal

My earliest memories of Guka Ngari were of a quiet old gently smiling man who was important to my mother, who looked like her even, who always seemed to be in a heavy pullover of some indeterminate neutral colour. My most vivid memories of Guka Ngari, however, involved television. The irony of this is not …

A Place of No Time

I wish you were here with me in this breathy airy space where our hearts can inflate with each other without exploding, air out of me, air into you. We could stay young forever, stay here forever, with each other, in each other. Your brown would start where my dark ends, we would become each …

Whenever I talk with people the conversations invariably end up with us talking about our dreams. I do not know if I do it, but I have noticed people smile awkwardly and look at you as if they are seeking reassurance whenever this comes up. It is like they expect you to make fun of …

Unajua tailor Kibera? Of course! Niulize swali ngumu. (Laughs. I laugh back.) Sawa! Unajua mtu anauza ndege? Hiyo sasa ni swali ngumu. Lakini, parts za ndege, hakuwezi kosa mtu. Ndege zii, lakini parts tu za ndege iko. Unataka nini? Nataka kushonesha bag. Ukichomoka niambie. Sawa.

A small whitish stain on my sky-blue cardigan. Mirrors lie. I looked again, pulling at its front and looking down. I smelled it. Cheese, made more nauseating mixed with the scent of fabric softener. It has been almost eight weeks. Sarah did not wash this sweater properly. She cannot, even if I ask her to. …

Life is a Saturday

Yesterday I accompanied a friend to hospital to pick up the outcomes of a blood test she had had done earlier in the week. She has been ailing for a while. In her typical roundabout fashion, she said it was just her tummy. We chatted for a bit as we waited for the results to …