From the title of this piece, you will attest that I have been busy rehearsing my long-faded, fake American twang. I studied there, you know, and stayed a bit for work, teaching at some of its finest schools, but do I say!
I was expected in the US, or the Yu Es, as Kenyans are likely to mouth, next weekend, for a symposium, where I hoped to display my academic pretensions. But I have run into what our people call kizaazaa (nightmare).