Category: Short Stories

The Daughter of my Father

African woman

I believe in God, the Father almighty, Creator of heaven and earth… He will come again to judge the living and the dead…

Frank peered through the crevices on the cracked walls, of the dusty neglected room where the middle aged woman declaimed the apostle’s creed in pious devotion. She was on her knees. Palms open as if asking for divinity or maybe, for a considerable amount of the Holy Spirit to help vent her hunger on a demon she disdained.

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Shedding The Tear of Loss

Gothic grave

We are in a funeral… I see someone I know. She is a friend of Mama’s. She is Rosaline. A devotee of the Holy Ghost faith. She is busy, busy washing utensils. I walk past her and smile. She smiles back…

I’m in a “matatu” ‘’a public service vehicle.’’ I’m dressed in a custom-made company shirt. It is white with blue cuffs protruding longer than my blue slim fit blazer’s.

I alight at bus station. To darkness. Blur and nothingness.

I’m back at the funeral. I don’t see my blazer anymore, but I can feel flip-flops under my feet.

Sun Over Beach

photographic-2778110_1280It is Irma’s fourth day in the oldest, coastal town of Kenya. She stands lazy in the crowded Pirate’s beach. Neither envious of the unending fun everyone is having, nor astounded by it. She has visited all places recommended by her travel agent and done everything she planned for, over her stay here. Everything she googled and titled, ‘things to do while in Mombasa,’ in her tiny notebook.