Have you been to Kericho with those squatty but quaint tea worker’s houses on the hill. The endless greenery with rolling hills and Kalenjin hawkers with their checked jackets selling tea and roast maize and trucks that bellow and meander up virgined hills.
We had a few hours to burn at Ataturk Airport, Istanbul. The chap I was travelling with, Shukri Adan of Turkish Airlines, looked at his watch and said, “I will be at the bookstore,
A few weeks ago I wrote about showing up at the Pearly Gates and God asking you what you did with your talents and you drawing a blank. Then I got an email from a 48-year old lady,