Death by Burning


Nundu devoured a thief. Nundu died a thief. Adventurous, horrifying and peculiar stories have been told from the word ‘’Nundu.’’ Some of them scientific – putting the name to the face of a bird in the ostrich family with semi plume feathers; others terrifying and wizardry, like in the blog; on creature/cat section describing Nundu as a gigantic magical leopard native to East Africa and considered the most dangerous beast in existence. The writer insinuates that Nundu’s breath carries disease and death and he can swallow a group of people in one gulp. So intriguing or is it? If he really exists, I believe it would take hundreds of wizards working together to overcome him. And when the magic happens, I’d love to be there. To witness spell cast on this occult; to see Nundu defend his realm with a gnaw at the front council; to see him jolt and grab and hog at the wizard’s apprentice hanging the kid wizard loose by his leg lets, his jiggered toes pegged to Nundu’s vampire teeth and his down facing skull cracked through by the mystical animal’s erect and bristling mane hair. Depictions of the animal on Google pictures is of a huge, unique and hungry giant cat with a ballooned thorny throat – the weirdest showing him stand on two firm dinosaur limbs and angrily ooze two thin arms with ghoulish claws.



It’s not what you think! This is not my city, I am just a passerby, I am going home, home to my most precious wife, home to our 1 year old daughter, home where my father is nursing my ailing mother. She suffers from liver cancer, yet she doesn’t know. The doctor says she’ll die by April 19th, that’s 4 months from today, yet she doesn’t know. It’s like how they told my pregnant wife she’d be due on 4th September and true to their word, she writhed and heaved with labour pain on that predetermined date. So I somewhat choose to believe them again, even though I don’t want to. I’m going home to see her (my mother), to pray with her and to tell her how much she means to me; then later to show my affection to my wife and tell her of the good news. I might have done well in the interview which brought me here; 360 KM away from home (Kisumu). I hope she’ll be proud. We’ll hug, kiss and she’ll regulate my bathing water and say,



A red colored Ford Cortina 200E slows and stops at the parking of a 3 bedroom townhouse in Bat-crest Gardens Kileleshwa – the house that bares a huge sign FOR SALE by its driveway.  A black man comes out from the driver’s seat leaving the car door open. He’s three sheets to the wind and about 5’’ 9’ tall with a weight that’s close to 129 pounds; almost triple the emotional weight he carries from city casino. He staggers back and forth then back to kick the front ream of his old fashioned vintage car with frustration cursing the wind, the air, the stars and all the crazy creatures of the night. He props against the car, gulps from his long bottle then wobbles to the faint darkness. The estate is a safe haven enclosed with 20 spacious units each with a self-contained servant’s quarter and only a few meters away from state house residence.