Love Brewed on the Shores of Nam Lolwe
Silence. Total blackout. Even the moon disappears for a long minute. The barely visible faces in the crowd hold their breath. Suddenly, a loud scream comes from behind me. For a moment, my heart races faster. “Jowi! Jowi! Jowi!” a solitary voice calls in the darkness. The call is picked by the shadowy figures crouched
On the Cultural Trail to Rusinga Festival
She marched out of the lake, so they say. The myth of Nyamgondho With her back bent, wrinkles mapping her determined face, she raised her hand and the passive waters came alive. Hundreds of cows, goats, sheep, donkeys and all manner of domesticated fowl followed in her wake. The braying, moo-ing, baa-ing and clucking jolted
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