Category: Short Stories

“Look at my hips, do you want to hold my hips, Katana?” Beatrice continued in slurred speech while walking towards me.

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