kenya

Eulogies We Write

When I typed the last chapter of the translation, I did not want to finish it. It would mean there were no more stories to share.

J Remarked that Ngong Hills Wasn’t a Real Hike, Just a Nice Walk

J who’d been here most frequently said we didn’t need to pay for the armed guards. We’d just trail behind the groups that had a guard with them.

Visiting the Club

The colonial-era club was supposed to replicate the private gentlemen’s clubs in England, where the wealthy and privileged nurse their gout.

Ciondo and Boda Boda

I had long pestered my mother to teach me how to make ciondo.

By the riverside

You call everyone who is not near you—and that is, well, everyone.

Demons and Dissidents

Even a cursory glance at mainstream Kenyan discussions reveals that the Report on Devil Worship became the dominant frame through which to understand state and society.

Our Names Identified Us as Foreigners

In Nairobi, we found a community of fellow urban refugees we learned to call family.

Tour of Babel Primary category in which blog post is published

Walalo Citizenship and Kenyan Citizenship are Entirely Different

When people ask if I’m Walalo, I never know what to say because it doesn’t sound like something I should own.

Knots of Time

While the year passes in the strict way of clocks, there are always other ways to structure your time.