Askari! Your Wife Needs Surgery!

It was 5 o clock. Daniel was walking from the busy and dusty roads of Kawangare, through the serene and shaded roads of Lavington and then on to Westlands. He had to report to work by 6pm. He had walked this route for the last 3 years and could walk it blindfolded.

His favourite part of his daily trek, was a stretch through Riverside drive, where he got to cross the Nairobi river or is it the Chiromo river? He was never too sure. The narrow rocky path snaked between the high stone walls of two private compounds that opened to a small patch of green, apparently no man’s land on the banks of the river. It reminded him of shags. How long would it be before someone grabbed it?

When Symptoms Persist, Plan For A Funeral

We seldom realize the value of health until we lose it. In a way the nationwide doctor’s strike should have served as an apt metaphor for a sick nation that has taken its health for granted and now has to reckon, late in the day, that a steady daily regimen of panadol tablets cannot keep disease at bay. The doctor’s strike should have shaken the country out this stupor and forced us to ask our leaders some hard questions.

The doctors rallied their numbers to say, “We are sick and tired of getting shafted” and in typical Kenyan fashion, fighting for one’s rights, is the epitome of self-sacrifice, unless you are a politician. Those for whom one fights will first ignore you, then despise you for messing up their day.