Currently Reading: My Life in Prison

Salim Abdullah had been in that damn place [Mathare Hospital] for so long that he had forgotten the difference between a man and a woman. In his life, I guess, he had laid more men than women. If you did not know how to handle him, you could land in his trap. He had the face of an ape, the roar of a lion and the strength of a buffalo: but he was also the most cowardly creature you could ever come across. Looking at him or listening to him as he threatened you, you could feel like kneeling and begging him to spare you: but those of us who understood him knew that he was quite easy to deal with. To get him off your back, you only needed to give him a blow in the face or bend down as if to pick up a weapon. When you straightened up, he would be gone.
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A pansy passed nearby as we were talking. He was short, fat brown with even, white teeth. He was handsome, all right, this queer. He moved sexily in front of us, with slow calculated steps as if intending to impress us. The calves of his legs were fat and smooth, his whole body well washed and smeared with a sweet-smelling toilet soap, which could only be afforded by prison tycoons. He had protruding buttocks, which trembled with every step. A hyena would have followed him for miles expecting them to drop at any moment so that it could eat them.
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A Kenyan classic, complete with tales about queer prison gangs and all!