Its been over a month since allegations about a Nairobi-based pastor , Ken Gomeri, as a sexual predator came out. It’s also been over a month since Khaligraph Jones was accused of domestic violence. In both of these cases, there has been a uniform response: silence. In other social media news, cheating is apparently a justification for physical violence. But all this is part of the so-called ‘social suicide’ where gendered violence is eloquently explained as collateral damage of a greater social rot. Dear reader, when will women stop being collateral damage? After all, it’s 2019! Continue reading “African woman, you are on your own”: thoughts on twitter intellectualism, feminism and the capitalism that binds
I can’t believe that there was a time and a universe in which I knew you by a different name. At the end of this year, I will have known you for ten years and a time like this next year, you will have lived for a quarter of a century. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves now, shall we?
Happy birthday my love. You are 24 and it feels like yesterday when you were 14 talking of dreams of being the President of East Africa, having numerous babies and owning a chocolate factory. Continue reading Twenty Four
You might have heard about this film.
You might not have heard about it.
You might have watched this film.
You might not have watched it.
Wherever you are within this spectrum, this review is for you.
By now we as as a people immersed in popular culture have unanimously declared that this movie is everything. The serious people who make their bread in this industry seem to also agree given all the nominations and wins they have received so far (shout out to Regina King for sweeping all the awards this season!) Continue reading Are you Ready for This?: A Film Review of “If Beale Street Could Talk”
This book is a small book.
A small book that must be read as a slow book.
A small book with a big title, “Drunk”, calling out our demons from its covers.
A book you take out during those awkward moments of idleness when the phone addict in you wants to stop your dirty ways so instead, you pick up Drunk.
Or the book in between those long Uber rides home when the Uber driver after giving a full account of his love life or lack thereof, remembers you rate him afterwards and establishes that oh so dreaded “awkward silence”. (I always give 5, especially for such stories so don’t be shy ☺️, jussayin). Continue reading Drunk
It seems almost ironic to frame a retelling of a slave story as a love story but there is no other way to describe the full circle healing that comes from reading this book. I had the privilege earlier this year, to sit in an audience and hear the author, Yaa Gyasi, speak to a bunch of decently educated folks about language, representation, and the research process in writing the book. I wanted to ask about her imagination and her soul because surely no amount of research could concoct such feelings. Perhaps she too had her own intergenerational memory, a vessel somewhat of the story of her people. But I didn’t ask because again, it was about language, representation, and the research process. Continue reading What is a love story? A Homegoing Review