Those who have been in the fresh produce business longer are immediately visible: mostly old women in khanga sarongs with weary take-it-or-leave-it voices. They hang out in groups, chatting away constantly,as if they want no quiet where the fragility of their community will reveal itself in the this alien place.
It was not the Old Man’s rage that he feared, nor the prospect of police cell and the gunbutts and kicks of his fellow corporals. He did not fear any of that. It was that the Old Man had faded. That was why he had left. There was nothing there anymore. Everybody was leaving, and lying about it.
In contemporary Nairobi, a young man named Moses Odidi Oganda bleeds to death in the streets, murdered by police. As his lifeblood – full of memories, colors, and songs – pours into the dust, the stories that tumble forth reveal the violent upheaval of Kenya’s own life, reaching from the Mau Mau uprisings of the 1950s to the murky intricacies of modern-day corruption.