I wrote a good chunk of this novella in a treehouse in Elementaita. It’s called Pinklakeman Eco-Lodge, where a gorgeous treehouse teeters from a gorge (the gorge makes it gorgeous) of a seasonal riverbed. It’s a cabin made …
My doorbell rings. I open the door to find a tall, good-looking boy standing there. He stands cockily with his legs apart – his weight resting firmly and equally on both long limbs. He’s got big, wonderful eyes that …
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, D&R, down that way. Si …
I interview John Sibi Okumu in his house, up in his study which sits in an attic, where the roof plunges and rises like a wave. His whole study is a woodland of books. Hundreds and hundreds of books …
Our main character has a protruding forehead. He’s dark. Let’s call him Chocolate Man because some street hooker in Pattaya, Thailand, christened him that. And who are we – mere mortals with aged peeling careers – to disregard the …
