He got me with â€œDreams From My Father.â€ It was hard to believe the parts about Kenya were written by someone whoâ€™d not been brought up in Kenya. So authentic. Neither raw nor overdone. Just right. I loved him then. And then, “Audacity of Hope” sealed the deal. I like.
Last June, I remember being in a car in Johannesburg, driving from point A to point B. There were four of us, from four different countries, two Africans two non-Africans. From a discussion on the global economic climate, we segued into a discussion about who could would might be the next US President. Hillary Clinton got a fair amount of airtime. We tossed pluses and minuses back and forth. Rudi Giulliani also came under scrutiny. I attempted to insert Barack Obama into the conversation. Everybody laughed. I mean, chortled. Nobody else in the car thought he was worth considering.
In the next couple of weeks, at least three of us will get together again. I canâ€™t wait.
Also, Iâ€™m â€˜up to hereâ€™ with Kenya. Enough. Iâ€™m off to bury my head in the sand. DO NOT DISTURB.
Just one more thing: ahem, has anyone else noticed that drought has checked in? Mom told me some weeks ago the harvest was very poor this year, and that set out the first warning bells for me. But of course there's plenty of news jostling for mind space so I stashed that away absentmindedly. Then yesterday, there were cattle being herded along Mbagathi Way. That's usually a sign that there's trouble in the land.