No matter how many times Kenyan government refuses to acknowledge that it tried to turn freehold land to leasehold, the world is having none of it. This pastor based in the US has nailed it.
Mahali imefika, ni kama I will be forced niingie OMAD to afford subscription ya YouTube Premium. Nowadays unaweka zile rain and thunder sounds at least ikusaidie kutafuta usingizi, then those capitalists wanakuwekea adverts za loans back to back. Unaamka hours later in deep sweat juu umeota ukikimbizwa na loan sharks.
Ok. I'll be that girl who corrects you, because you all already hate me for speaking the truth anyways....
Most women actually desperately WANT to be that last lady holding the flowers. You've found a man who has game, experience and she's the LAST in that line, there's no one behind her. So he is loyal.
You're just trying to get back at men for doing the reverse of this because you're ashamed of your body count but the reality is that the same rules don't apply for men and women.
Sis to sis: stop lying to yourself.
Haya @iamnickodhiambo woke up and decided to shout the truth. If you are employed, you can either resign, be fired, be poached, the company shuts down, or worse, you die. But be prepared; one of them is going to happen!
Siaya Governor @orengo_james: I never knew in my life I would see a situation where public officers ride in 10, 20 choppers at public expense and then, within 1 hour, contribute Sh35 million, and next to the venue of that event is a bridge that was swept by storms in Migori, and for 8, 9 months, that bridge has not been repaired.
@thejesserogers
#KTNPrime
While house hunting recently, the daughter of a landlord came to show us around her mother's apartment complex. It had four vacant units. She walked us through each one. The houses met our standards, and the rent was fairly manageable.
Then we asked, "Are there churches around?"
"Many," she said. "There is a Catholic church a few blocks away. There is an ACK church half a kilometer away. And several others. The choice is yours."
"What about these other churches? We are not interested in Catholic and ACK." I pressed.
“Of course, we have several churches around the estate.”
"Do they have keshas?"
"Of course," she said brightly. "Two of them have Friday keshas, that is, if you love Friday keshas. The one just past the neighbouring apartments has Saturday keshas, if you prefer Saturday keshas."
My cousin and I looked at each other and nodded.
She added, almost as a seal of approval, "My mother is saved. She loves it when her tenants love the church."
We wanted to tell her that we do, in fact, love the church. We just do not love churches with loud night keshas in residential neighbourhoods. Instead, we smiled politely and told her, "We shall call you. Don't call us."
Whispers in the Wind.
On the cold morning of June 25, 2011, a Directorate of Criminal Investigations officer was examining a vehicle linked to a drive-by shooting. Suddenly, blood began dripping from his nose and mouth. Colleagues watched in horror as he staggered, collapsed, and died before anyone could even administer first aid.
The cause of death was a mystery, but the timing was not. The officer had been working on a case involving an influential Member of Parliament known in intelligence circles simply as "The Boss."
As investigators processed the strange death of one of their own, a dark thought settled over the station. The detectives prayed it had nothing to do with "The Boss" not because they believed he had ordered it, but because his life attracted dangerous people. Wherever he appeared, conspiracy arrived before him and scandal followed shortly after.
Long before helicopters, millions, and international sanctions, John was a poor school dropout from Makueni who found his way to the Kiganjo Police College in 1968. His hand was exceptionally steady. On the shooting range, he was almost unnervingly accurate. His marksmanship earned him a place representing Kenya at the 1968 and 1972 Olympic Games.
He did not return with medals. He finished far down the rankings, overshadowed by better shooters. But sport earned him introductions. While others came home carrying memories, he allegedly came home carrying connections.
The stories that later grew around him painted a Cold War thriller: foreign businessmen, Colombian networks, and East African trafficking routes. International competitions provided the perfect cover for discreet cargo that never appeared on customs declarations. His name slowly drifted beyond ordinary policing into the realm of whispered conversations.
At the time, hunting was legal in Kenya, and wealthy visitors from the oil-rich Gulf states arrived with extravagant tastes and deep wallets. They wanted ivory, horns, and rare skins souvenirs from Africa to decorate their palaces thousands of miles away.
According to those who knew him, John possessed an unusual skill. He could shoot with absolute precision. To rich hunters, that was artistry; to him, it was business. And this business paid far better than a government salary.
Ironically, it was something as ordinary as facial hair that ended his police career. Ordered to shave his beard, he refused, insisting he suffered from a skin condition aggravated by shaving. The police service had little interest in dermatology, so he was dismissed. He looked suspiciously liberated.
He plunged into private business, especially logistics and transport, building a fortune that expanded almost as quickly as the stories surrounding it. His growing influence became so unsettling that in 1983, the government confiscated his passport, alleging that he was engaged in activities undermining state authority.
He fought back and won. The court victory left him with a lasting lesson: that justice and power were not always close friends. If the game was political, perhaps the safest place was inside the game itself. But Kenya was still a one-party state, living under the long shadow of the failed 1982 coup. Politics was a closed club.
In 1991, Section 2A was repealed and the gates cracked open. Mwau unveiled his own political vehicle, the Party of Independent Candidates of Kenya (PICK), and launched a presidential campaign in 1992 against Daniel arap Moi. He lost badly, securing just over ten thousand votes.
Kenyans had seen campaign trucks and campaign buses, but then Mwau arrived in a helicopter. At just forty-four years old, he became the first presidential candidate to campaign from the skies. 1/2
For best Kenyan History & Investigative stories follow @timothyturunga
(continuation in comments)
Tanzania is probably the only country where two people can be in the middle of a serious fight and still maintain excellent manners.
One fighter politely says, "My brother, I don't want to kill you today. I will come looking for you tomorrow."
The other responds respectfully, "Babu, if you're truly a man, please come here and allow me to teach you a lesson."
Meanwhile, the cameraman is providing live commentary like a professional sports analyst:
"Ladies and gentlemen, the challenger has issued a formal invitation for tomorrow's rematch. The opponent has accepted. Back to the studio."
Not once does he attempt to separate them. His priority is preserving evidence for future generations.
In Tanzania, even street fights come with customer service, appointment scheduling, and live media coverage.