LAST PAINTING

“Pass that to me.” She said while pointing at a silver lighter on the floor near the ash tray filled with half smoked cigarettes and two unopened packets of the same. I adjusted my trench coat before picking up the lighter.                          “Did you smoke all these today?” I asked and with a small smile

FLAME

A letter to her beloved Flame, It’s been a minute. Tsk, let’s be more literal. It’s been weeks. Five weeks since I last talked to you. To tell you the truth, I have been avoiding you. You see, when I see you, my heart beats so fast and so loud that sometimes, my ears can’t

ZEKE

“A sequel to RAGGED GOLD” (Here is a link to Ragged Gold, if you haven’t read it already: http://smmwords.blog/2022/01/16/ragged-gold/) I swing my office chair, my eyes closed. A small smile grazes my lips as I remember her cheeky smile. Marylin… We never talked, but she dropped her cards next to my feet enough times for

RAGGED GOLD

I don’t understand it, but neither will I fight it. The feelings I have towards the young man who wears the same torn, blue jeans and black shirt six days in a week. The man with the longest unkempt dreads that really need a good wash. The fella that sits by the fruit vendor at

CIRCLE OF SI-PHILIS

Ah, when campus ceases to be a home for education and turns into the luxurious palace of all evil then… Oh, hold up. I do tend to forget my manners, please, allow me to introduce myself.  My name is Phillis. Worry not about my second name because trust me, all you need is that one

THAT MORIO

“Wakasa, Nocha Mwirobi Okhayiya sa na bikhana ta.’’ “Wakasa, when you go to Nairobi, study, don’t just focus on making the rounds with women.” That’s what Wakasa’s grandmother told him before he moved to Nairobi five years ago.  Right now I am seated next to him, patiently waiting for him to stop crying. I am

IN THE HOLY CHAMBERS (excerpt)

                                   MWEZI crouched in the corner of her room, her head between her knees. Her shoulders shook violently as she cried silently. Ever since she was a child, Mwezi had imagined very many different versions of her life as a young adult, but never did she think that at twenty-four her life would be such a complete

JOURNAL OF THIS KENYAN WOMAN

“Not as a feminist, but as a female” Dear Journal, I am sorry to wake you this late in the night. I wanted to come and weave these words earlier, but I had so many words and little ink to sort them into sensible structures. Well, right now I am here because I want to

“CALL ME DADDY”

“Anita, call me Daddy.” Anthony whispered. I felt pure anger as I listened to him. The grip on my phone tightened with every word he uttered. The Audacity!! How can that man come back to our lives and act as if nothing happened? No, I refuse to call him Daddy. I refuse to call him

PASSION OF A WARRIOR (Excerpt)

GET YOU A COPY, YOU DON’T WANT TO MISS THE POLITICS AND ROMANCE IN THIS. https://payhip.com/b/VKvd or https://wa.me/c/254798527710 Two weeks after deployment, Commander Vivienne sat on her swivel chair facing the window in her office, when she heard the door to her office open without a knock, followed by footsteps. Then came that overly familiar,