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WHAT'S LEFT?

The glisten of the polished wooden counter, smudged my reflection, as I tried to look at myself smiling, while swirling my freshly poured glass of whiskey. Sarah rushed in as soon as she saw me from the door of the bar. “Are you still going to ask for another?” Sarah asked. Silence circulated between us for about 5 to 10 minutes, and the swirling of my glass followed the forced grimace and smiles. “What does the world need from me anyway” I said. Sarah sighed and turned away for a few seconds, as the silence grew and turned back to me. “J… You said, you’d do it for me” Sarah said. I looked down at the whiskey decreasing its speed in swirling and took a big sip, and then coughed with a slight choke. “WHHHHYYYYYY?! DAMN IT!! TELL ME WHYYYY?!” Sarah shouted. Sarah clutched onto my jacket shaking me trying get me to get back to my senses. I continued to cough and took another sip of my whiskey, and groaned at the sting it sent down my throat. “There’s nothing left for m
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MAYBE I NEED TO BE FAMOUS?

Another good deed, another day I looked at my journal, to count them until they hopefully pay off. My journal and I, had been friends since I hit this stage of life. One more deep sigh, from being overlooked like gum under the seat, as I walked past the school locker corridor. The stomping of feet and invisible feeling to others blew past me like winds on a tree leaf. I was still on the first few pages of my journal, which were already filled up. Awaiting to make my new entry, with a deep sigh. My pondering mind went at it, with questions again. Why hasn’t she looked at me and why haven’t the “cool kids” acknowledged me? Maybe I need new clothes? I need to stand up to someone? My stomach suddenly clenched inside out and my heart pumped faster than a sprinter straight out of a race, at the clicking of her heels. As the rose scented perfume wafted past me, I dared to take another chance to reach out, with a flinching smile. “Hey! Hey! Hi Cathy! Did you check my new post on soci
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DID YOU PICK THE WRONG BOOK IN SCHOOL?

 Snapshot. After snapshot. After snapshot. Be honest. How many times have you almost gotten a muscle cramp trying to force a smile on those long photoshoots during big ceremonies? I tell you, I really needed a physiotherapist urgently, at this moment. The clenching was strong enough to be another research paper waiting to happen for a med student somewhere in the world. The camera man gestured like a fiddling branch rustling in the wind trying to get the perfect pose, just as my lecturer who couldn't seem to hide his smile as people walked by and watched us take photos. You know, that lecturer who just wants the world to know his bright students and also champions education better than the Ministry itself? Yes, that sort of fella.  Meanwhile, my classmates and I couldn't wait to use our camera on our phones with all added features, because we'd trust our Photoshop skills than the framing our lecturer might know from before wireless connections were invented. So it was gradu
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JUST...ONE...MORE...DAY

 Hi. My name is Johnathan. I've had breakfast, it's almost in the afternoon, and I'm in my pajamas, as people are trying to communicate with me but I've been very odd of late, in how I answer my phone. Yes, I'm an adult before you start asking. At the time I'm writing this, I honestly don't know what's puzzling inside my head.  I'm just in bed. At the start of the day, I did everything I could and should do. Then I suddenly went to bed and felt like I can't do anything. Ever since I was kid, I felt like I was never a normal person. Where this came from, I don't really know, but it's always been singing at the back of my head that nothing about me was ever normal. It's funny how that's where things kick off as I'm telling you this. But yeah, I wasn't the A student or the academic. I just survived. The other stuff was a flurry of a lot of accidents and experimentation. I interacted with everyone but I always felt alone. Like
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IS LOVE FOR THE RICH?

IS LOVE FOR THE RICH?   Once upon a time, your credit and bundles were used on someone who was the desire of your heart, and somehow it ended up like this,   Her: “I want a guy with money”   Him: “It’s just a phase, babe, I’ll be on my feet soon”   A talking stage gone to the archive folders and screenshots of a phone. Now, a group chat, has been hit with the headlines of this developing story like breaking news at a newsroom.   Your free trial subscription is over.   You’re now at the bar, alone, wondering where it all began. Swiping her social media profile. Was it when university was over? Was it when you collected the fateful paper with the graduation gown, everyone in the job market has talked to you about and she saw your “potential”? Was it when she went to that place you planned to visit, with her “best friend”? The paper was said that it will open doors, that you also faintly heard your teachers from high school tell you about this as well. Th
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THE OTHER SIDE OF A SHEREHE (PARTY) GONE TOO FAR

  THE OTHER SIDE OF A “SHEREHE” (PARTY) GONE TOO FAR The work week is winding down. It’s Friday. School is closing. A party is coming soon. It’s someone’s birthday. Seeing a trend? Who doesn’t love a party and a reason to make merry? For Kenyan youths, there’s nothing other than the “sherehe” moment to scheme out their most crazy dance moves, outfits and an excuse to swerve on the edge of sobriety. If you haven’t been seen or appeared on a social media post or story on a night out, then you just didn’t have fun or you are hiding from your other half. Social media posts are the paparazzi for the night, and if you are at home, you are simply using data or WIFI to be told, what you are missing. Arranging a big group of people for laughs is not a thing to be missed, unless it is for valid reason. Even in small groups, the laughter is still warming to the heart. Let’s take this a bit of a step back and see our party fellows. You know them. They come in a variety of chara
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