Whoever said age is just a number should be shot. Or boiled in hot oil. Or made to walk barefoot on sharp rocks until his feet bleed. You get the drift.

It’s taken me 43 years to finally get why people (especially women) lie about their age. It’s taken this long because as a writer, I’ve often wished I was older simply because most people with stories worth telling (in book form) are my father’s age or older. And their natural preference when it comes to putting their stories to paper is to deal with a peer, usually a professor of literature. Thinning grey hair, pot-bellied, perhaps walking with a slight stoop, fading eyesight and who vividly remembers Jomo Kenyatta. Continue reading

A cab doing its rounds in the city

Why Uber stands zero chance of killing my local cabbie

I’ve been following the social media debate on Uber as people pontificate on the imminent death of the local taxi industry, others gleefully announcing that they’ve given their local cabbies the boot, with Uber expected to mop up all business. Clearly, they haven’t met my cabbie Kingori, the reason I have zero interest in getting the Uber app.

I had a long chat with him last week on a cab ride to Kilimani about how if at all Uber has affected his business. Based on that and my own experience, I can confidently say that Uber has a snowball’s chance in hell of putting Kingori out of work. Here’s why. Continue reading