It was a cloudy, rainy morning. The clouds were heavy and expectant. I had run along the perimeter of a national park, my mind shrouded by the thought of meeting lions on the prowl. It didn’t help that I had been watching strange men on social media taking pictures and videos of lions while having morning tea while the lions passed by. These and other thoughts kept me company in the silence, only interrupted by my breathing. In those moments, the need to speak to another person seemed alien. Yet when I transitioned from the lonely roads of Rongai, through Karen and back to my estate, and my run became a walk, a young man stopped me. He seemed unsure, almost embarrassed. Yet his demeanor was confident, and his eyes spoke of an intelligence that sought attention. “Excuse me, Sir, might you have a minute?” He hurriedly used the precious seconds before my surprise turned hostile or indifferent. “I'm hungry and would apprec...
I had gone to Diani after a tough year, having lost my father. I was doing what I love at the beach, which is walking aimlessly with reckless abandon, while staring at the horizon. My head was empty. The ocean was calm, resembling a waxed turquoise floor. At that moment, something occupied the periphery of my vision to the left. Many boats were near the beach, but this particular one stood out, as if it were an accident waiting to happen. It had a flat white top, with blurry insignia on the side, floating a kilometer away. Six foreigners, likely from the backpacking fraternity, were diving from the flat top, having the time of their lives. I felt something get stuck in my throat, so I swallowed. It was a taste of disgust. I quickly looked at my feet, ashamed. As a rush of sadness bathed over me. I felt cleansed by the salty water slapping against my feet. I looked again to my left. They were still there enjoying the ocean while I was wallowing in mild depression....