The heartbreaks, the noise, the uncertainties, and the void. You wake up one day to a stranger's body. You didn't even know when you began changing. City life is a façade. There is no milk and honey in the streets like they think back in Ugenya, Masiro Kathieno. You'd rather that life; the quietude of the hills near Ujwang'a that would nurse your gloom with a bit more love, more care, more tenderness.
To be a man here means to have money and a lot of women in your Whatsapp chats smearing your ego with sweet nothings; to be suited up and command eloquence, even when it's full of your soul's emptiness. But I see different things when I read people's faces in the alleys of Luthuli Avenue. Deep things. They have goodness but it's been betrayed so many times they don't know what to feel anymore. We don't know whether to pity beggars or kick them out of our way.