Some of my relatives hated soap and water

As a young reporter, I once met a spindly middle-aged man who, though nominally white, had been turned a walnut brown by long exposure to the African sun. Theodore, or Theo as everyone called him, was managing a bunch of bandas that was aspiring to become a beach hotel at Ngomeni, 40 kilometres north of Malindi.

The dream became a cropper and Theo disappeared from my life as suddenly as he came into it.