Category: Short Stories

You'll remember the crate of Tusker that lived underneath Njoro's bed, the one that was a bottle short? Beatrice had developed a taste for it.

“Katana, that roof has gone a day without being swept,” Mama Linda barked at me and I pretended not to have heard her.

You will remember the watery cabbage and ugali I used to get paid with. That was the first thing that left the table.

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