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Rain 2.0

Her mom died when she was 16. A form 2 student at St Mary’s Lwak Girls’ High School in Rarieda District of Nyanza. She remembers the face of the form one student who came to call her from class on that day. She remembers looking at the girl’s face and immediately feeling a cloud form around her chest. She knew before she was told. Before the Kiswahili teacher said her name out loud and asked her to the Deputy Principal’s office. She knew in her gut that something was terribly awry. It was an accident that did her mother in. …
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Prisoner To Your Mother

“You can call me orange” read the email. “Like the fruit or the color?” “I was told this was where to go if I wanted to talk about my mother” Oh man. Orange must have the wrong email. But then, I thought, that would be pushing it a little far right? That there is a person out here with an email address so close to mirawuor@gmail.com that I was sent the troubles of another? “Well she drinks. I mean I do too, but she drinks like a whole lot. For breakfast, for brunch, for a midnight snack” Ah, my kind …
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27 minutes

She was the kind of girl he was sure he would never get, and not only because he was years older than her. They were from different worlds. Her father had large farms and his mother had twelve children. It was doomed from the first day they saw each other. Of the twelve, he was fifth, and third among the boys, which made him among the middle children. He could get nothing. Could ask for nothing, and unless he was coughing out blood and shitting himself simultaneously, no attention was given to him. There is this perception that middle children …
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Mohaha

For Lilly, life was as simple as life came. Eat, breathe, sleep. For her, life was routine. She was an average student. She attended church every Sunday because it was what her family did. She did what was required of her under her parents’ roof and there were no complaints. She had three meals a day and socks on her feet. Life was modest. Life equaled eat, breathe, sleep. Lilly took her KCPE in 2008, scored a total of 361 marks and got admitted to Kipsigis Girls High School. She found herself in the strange land of mursik drinking girls …
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The Big Man’s Error

There are people who smell like money. People whose price of cologne alone could feed a small village for two days straight. These people have a spring to their step because they know for a fact that their families will never have to worry financially for generations that don’t even have names yet. People who breathe money. They sit and their bank accounts talk for them. They don’t have to do anything, say anything, because they are loaded beyond one’s own imagination. They can hire people to wipe their butts if they so wish. These are also people you never …
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The Gates

At 7, you were probably still riding your bike with the training wheels on. At 7 you hold a grudge for 4 minutes and forget about it. You have a favorite princess dress that you will wear any chance people are going out and at 7, a football was your best friend. At age 7, Julian Wagumba was returned to the gates of Nairobi’s New Life Children Center. He doesn’t remember much about this specific time other than the cologne of his then ex-foster father, a smell that follows him till today. He remembers a call from a social worker …
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Alcoholics Anonymous

Alcoholism is a disease. It is characterized by drinking uncontrollably and being preoccupied with alcohol. Everyone I ask about it quickly becomes a child caught stealing sugar from the sugar tin. Talking of they can control their intake, as if their throats come with an alcohol meter and an alarm that goes off “Out of control, Sir. The intake is out of our control”. People who accept the fact that they have the disease seek the help of Alcoholics Anonymous, or, as was the case of Jackson Biko’s Drunk, are forced to go to rehab after dire and life-changing circumstances. …
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Who are you when I’m not looking?

I need to know one thing Before you lay to rest tonight I need to know who you are Who are you when I’m not looking? Do you close your eyes on a messy bed Are you turned on by the color red Are you also a man on the wire Or do your principles keep you from the shire Have you felt a divine kind of emotion Do you fall on a couch with caution Who are you when I’m not as around? Is your coffee white or as dark as my heart Do you own a dog or …
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Measle

I had something in my bed. Disclaimer: There is no concealed meaning to this. Something means something and “in my bed” literally means just that. Heck, this may end up being a ramble and you may not like it as much… Before we begin, no, it was not a boy (ha-ha, who would want this mess?). But I really did have this thing in my bed a few weeks ago. And yeah, I know what you’re thinking. Why didn’t I write about it on the morning it happened? Because I don’t tell you guys everything about me Nosey Shirley. And …
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The Dark Side of the Moon

I have never been on a boat. Never floated on an ocean. I never even learnt how to swim. Until I was in high school, the only swimmable water I ever got in to, and I use “swimmable” loosely, is the River Awach in the hills of Seme. This might be the cause of the shortness of my breath and my sweaty palms when I first stared into the deep end of a swimming pool. I don’t understand floating. Maybe because I can’t do it for more than 4 seconds before imagining clawed hands reaching up for me. Water was …
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