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That had to be his favorite word. I remember him saying it more times than he said any other singular word.


He wrote me when I accused him of being too direct in his texts.

That word, nothing else.

But that was Alexander, that was the way he communicated. He wasn’t a man to engage in too many words, not when he didn’t think it was necessary. Read more



Susan Ayankele’s slender figure sat nervously at the edge of Mike’s Vitafoam mattress, dropped on the bare floor of his apartment.

She pressed her lean legs together and exhaled heavily.

Here she was, a nineteen year old, hundred level student in the apartment of a popular final year boy. She would be the envy of her friends right now! The seniors would be jealous and definitely want to hate her, but all that was far from Susan’s mind as she intertwined her fingers uneasily.

She was about to lose her virginity to a boy she barely even knew. It made her nervous, scared, and uneasy, but her mind was made up. Read more



Stand in front of a mirror, raise one arm high overhead, with four middle fingers flat, move gently in small circular motions over the entire breasts….

That was the instruction on the leaflet. They had been sharing those two page leaflets around my office for days. The cancer awareness people who brought them left a pile sitting at the receptionist desk.

As Mimi and I walked past the receptionist desk at the close of work that Friday,

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KWALE, 1993.

Thunder storms rumbled outside the thatched house of mama Awele as rain heavily pattered down to the old roof and unto the sandy ground. Every family in the small village was taking shelter in their huts, while some slept from the cold and relaxing feeling the rain brought, others warmed their afternoon meals in their clay pots. Babies sucked at their mother’s breasts and fathers lay

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ROSE. (18+)



Rosemary stood still by the white wooden door, trying not to breath too hard. The hallway, dimly lit by the recessed light reflecting from the antechamber stood still with her. She could hear the clock ticking in the distance, tick tock, tick tock, reminding her of the twenty minutes she had spent, standing by his door.

She heaved nervously, digging her teeth into her lower lip. This wasn’t her, she never thought it would be, yet, here she was, in her red one piece honeymoon nightwear,
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I dream of you. I wake up and pick up my phone to text you.

There’s an uneasy lump in my throat as I type you a two page text.

I spill my heart out on these pages.

I read all I’ve written, twice I think.
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It’s hard just thinking about it.



It  was a Friday in September. That Friday started off like any other day, Ene and I woke up, had our baths and rushed out for Lectures.

We returned afterwards, prepared lunch, ate and relaxed on our beds.

As we lay engrossed with our phones, she informed me about a party she had to attend later that night and asked that I go with her, I didn’t really know the celebrant but for lack of a better way to spend my Friday night, I agreed and tagged along.
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The sun was scotching hot.

I stood aside with my two year old twins and we watched as the Police and Court bailiffs brought out our property one after the other and filled it in their van.

They were executing the judgment of the Court, they would auction off our property to pay the Landlord the two Year rent we owed him.
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