I Shit Myself At A Graduation Party. Shit.

I Shit Myself At A Graduation Party. Shit.

I was recently invited to a friend’s graduation party. Technically, it was my Dad’s friend’s second-born daughter’s party, but that is a mouthful I was thinking I could spare you. Still. I went as part of my Dad’s plus two, (if there’s anything like that) and because I never shy away from free food. So, I am at the garden party, chowing down some delicious, rosemary-infused mbuzi choma, and washing it down with this amazing ginger ale I have never…

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Queuing For The Government: Farts, Killer Looks and Everything In Between

Queuing For The Government: Farts, Killer Looks and Everything In Between

Some days you write. Some days you let other gifted weird writers amuse you. Gang, enjoy this piece by Writer Dog. Don’t you think it’s funny how friendship is born at that moment when someone says to another: “What! You too? I thought I was the only one.” That’s how The Writer Dog ventured his way into Laura’s ExtraLaudinary wild. It feels creepy in here. Like being given plenty of rope to hang my boredom. I should have been here…

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A Day In The Village Is Worth 10 In Nairobi

A Day In The Village Is Worth 10 In Nairobi

It’s 10.42pm and everyone in the house is deep in slumber.  Village folk sleep early, except the special few, whose careers involve running around naked in the dead of the night, knocking on people’s windows, and depositing stinky shit on their doors, sometimes even smearing it on walls. I’ve heard the strangest of stories about these nocturnal professionals. That every night, when they leave the house for work, the wife has to keep frying a single groundnut, all night, making…

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A Game Of Gropes:The Woes Of Using Public Transport In Nairobi

A Game Of Gropes:The Woes Of Using Public Transport In Nairobi

Sometimes, when I am ‘javellin-ing’ in a bus, I imagine that I am Daenerys Targaryen, the Khaleesi. The Mother of Dragons, The Unburnt Queen of the Andals, the Rhoyna and of the First Men, Queen of Meereen, Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea. I imagine that I am this Breaker of Chains, just without the flowy blonde hair and the nice boobs. In my very creative castle of imagination, everyone in the bus who is standing like me, is part…

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Monday Moods and Mad Men

Monday Moods and Mad Men

August 22,2016. TIME: 1336 HOURS I have just come from lunch, where my stomach has involuntarily been subjected to burnt and undercooked ‘pilau’ and a labyrinthine mixture of french beans, carrots, peas and potatoes. It pains me to the core of my bone marrow, that I have had to pay the Mama from the land of chegets (jackets) and kuthogana, 200 shillings for that misdemeanor of a meal. 😒😒😒😒 While I would like very much to sulk over the fact…

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