Letstoriesunfold ™

  “How can you teargas,  a  Baddie?” Most protests or as the citizens aka criminals like to call it, maandamano features a big percentage men, plus if there were any ladies at all, most had a huge resemblance to the men themselves.  It all started with the public learning about the mischief that the members of Parliament were cooking up, thinking no one was looking, thinking that no one would give a hoot.  They thought business was as usual, that Kenyans were focused on other things like fornicating like a certain cabinet minister caught red handed with someone's wife abroad, or night life or as the force that has been terrifying politicians, the Gen Z call it, sherehe, and other trivial matters.  As soon as the public learnt of this mischief by the members of Parliament, a rallying call for each member of the public to call and tell their representative to stop with their madness and do away with the mischief that they were cooking up. Did the elected repr...

New month, new day, but najua mmeamka na hasira mbaya sana. Inaeleweka, how much tolerance for lies can people handle? Nilikuwa nikuwe on a break from storytelling, chanting viva with my comrades in the streets, inhaling the price of freedom, aka teargas. It all started with rejecting the finance bill, arrogance pushed some to be in denial, while others tried squashing it with gaslighting but it has now evolved, now the ones who were chest-thumping, arrogant, are squirming in the seats. Yesterday evening, took me way back.  Pulled a memory deep from my subconscious. Hayaa, the story goes like this. Many, many moons ago, I was in primary with this ninja, scruffy-looking, short dude. He was in all sorts of mischief but one thing that stood out from him was his tenacity to spin a lie. Damn!  That ninja could lie while looking at you dead straight in your eye without skipping a heartbeat. I thought I would have met the last of people who could lie shamelessly like that, life could...

From the creator of 👻Booo👻 , Wanjiru the Storyteller, & Letstoriesunfold bring you the continuation. Normally, how I walk to my place after work is the same as how someone pressed to use the washroom moves. That evening, I kid you not, I walked all the way to my place with a bounce in my step, and giddy like a six-year-old girl. The way I waited, even after drying off, freshening up, in pajamas munching on something to quiet the hunger pangs. There was no text, not even a missed call in the morning even after dozing off on the bed with the phone in my hand waiting. The crazy part about adulting is that you do not have time to brood over such things.  Preparing and going to work while thoughts were turning in my head on what I had done, or not done, to scare him away. The day dragged itself slowly, time slowly ticking towards the end of my shift. I had accepted what I saw as reality, that it was, what it was. Coming to terms with it, as they say.  Let me tell you, no wors...