I cannot be invited to a scene of African unhumaning and be told to recognize the complexity of the white people at that scene.
In 2000, my email signature was, “my heart to yours.” By 2005, it had changed to “best.” Now, I don’t have one. If I did, it might be, “in despair” or “from despair.” Rarely, with those dear to my heart, I write “love.” Perhaps I mean, “love in times of despair.” On Twitter, Prof Grace Musila … Continue reading in despair
I am baffled by Kenyan calls to deal with abuses of power through "name and shame." Are we to imagine that "name and shame" is not an explicitly gendered and gendering strategy? Are we to forget that "name and shame" works most powerfully on those without much social power? On women. On girls. On the … Continue reading Name and Shame
Current obsession. On YouTube. Nothing else to add. (might have been better as a tweet, but I don't do that anymore)
Rumuruti lands in the ear like Garba Tula, a place that once sounded so foreign I decided to name our Rex-looking dog Garba Tula. On the internet, one finds Garbatulla, Garba Tula, and Garba Tulla, a multi-named ungeography, lacking the exactness of Limuru or Lamu or Lodwar, those liquid sounds of place that glide in … Continue reading rumuruti
The South had always frightened me. —James Baldwin I first read James Baldwin while on a greyhound bus heading to the U.S. south. It was not my first trip to the south, only the first time I traveled there on my own. Something about the many-hour journey from Pittsburgh to the southmost corner of North … Continue reading Going South
He wanted to populate a world map of men who’d fucked him. Kenya was already taken. But I wanted to be on that map. * He was a librarian. He had the strongest calves I’d ever seen. * I didn’t know what he wanted until several years after, a yielding I learned to take. After. … Continue reading hunger