Category: Short Stories

I heard Njoro had put out 8Kg maize flour reward to whoever could find us, and bring us to him.

I did it like a thief in the night. After Njoro and her first wife were asleep, I sneaked into their house and woke up Beatrice.

The plan was simple: share a bottle with Beatrice, bring out our true colors and right the wrongs that had been committed against us.

Little was known about Njoro, and so there were a lot of rumors going around. “He had worked for a mhindi in Nairobi and stolen a fortune,” some

I said a small prayer after getting out of bed. If I was going to be robbed of my earthly body, I at least wanted God to save

Njoro came back the next day on his black mamba bicycle. The complaining of its un-oiled pedal announced him, and Mama Linda, Beatrice, and I

I won’t say it was anger that made me make the decision I did, but in retrospect, It might have had a part to play.

People need a villain and they need him perhaps more than they need a hero. They need someone to point a finger at and say, ‘That one is