I haven’t been to church in four years. I was born in an SDA church, not literally of course, I mean our family is SDA, and as children we would be forced to go to church every Saturday.
He was seated at the Intercontinental Hotel’s Poolside Bar nursing a scotch. This was the tail-end of 2014. He was with an MCA lady friend who he’d known for dog’s years. “He will be here,” she said unperturbed as she brought her merlot to her lips.
He grew up around the church, Seventh Day Adventist, to be precise. The family spent long hours in church. His parents were committed church members. He remembers a childhood filled with rotating doors of people coming in and out of their house for prayers and food being prepared for these church people.
All you want at 19 years is biceps. I never had any lofty ambitions, nothing burning and unsettling in sleep, just muscles. All my life’s efforts and aspirations whittled down towards growing big biceps.
I ask Eddy Kimani what it feels like to be a on a billboard. A big-ass billboard at a roundabout on Uhuru Highway. Or Waiyaki Way. For a month. For everybody, virtually everybody (and this includes guys from Nyahururu,
It was dark. The kind of darkness that looks like a black fog. A black opaqueness that refuses to get out of the way. The two stolen cars followed each other through this blackness,