I lived in a little shanty-like neighbourhood called Kiwafu while in uni in Kampala, with a roommate, Gasirigwa, who was from Tanzania. A room. One window. A mango tree outside the window.
I hope this missive finds you well.
I’m writing from the land of the white man, a place called Barcelona, Spain. It’s got churches and cathedrals, monuments and statues,
Warning: Long post ahead.
I reached out to Joe Black. Remember him, the prodigy boy from the slums of Kitui who came here with his dazzle and muzzled his way into your hearts with his lively prose?
On our way back to Entebbe from Kampala last weekend, we had to stop as the President of the republic, His excellency Yoweri Kaguta Museveni himself, was about to pass by, headed to Kampala.
- mentally or physically inactive; lethargic.
“we sat around in a torpid state”
I just came back from Doha.
At 4 a.m on Sunday morning, I found myself with Mutua Matheka at DXB Airport, connecting to Stockholm, and with two hours to kill. So we wandered about the airport, chasing deep vein thrombosis and passing people slumped on the carpet sleeping with their mouths open.