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The Upside Down World of the Other Woman
If some men were honest about their desire to maintain multiple relationships, would the betrayal wound feel less deeply when discovered? Or would such honesty simply expose how fragile many marriages already are? But then there is an even more complicated question beneath that one. Who are the women who choose to remain in marriages where respect has clearly eroded? Is it love? Shared history? Children? Economic reality? Social expectation? Or is the title of Mrs. so powerful that many would rather remain married than confront the humiliation of walking away?
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The goal of the Banda Book Day celebration was to connect pupils with children’s authors, encourage reading for pleasure, and help young people tap into their own creative potential.

It is mind-boggling that hundreds of years after fleeing hostile environments in other parts of Africa, we still flee from droughts, floods and hunger instead of standing our ground to fight. The overcrowding we fled from in the 14th century has caught up with us in our cities.

In this conversation with Books in Africa host Tracy Ochieng, Kilonzo speaks candidly about beginning as a 12-year-old memoirist, learning the business of publishing through mentorship, protecting parts of her private life in the age of social media, and why she believes “writer’s block” is often just fear disguised as creative paralysis.

This is not unique to Ruto. Across the political divide, figures such as Babu Owino regularly quote scripture, invoke divine justice and frame political struggle in spiritual terms. The Bible becomes a rhetorical shield, a way to signal moral legitimacy without submitting ideas to scrutiny. In a deeply religious society, scripture shortcuts debate, bypasses evidence and goes straight to emotion.Political theorists have long warned that when religion becomes the primary language of politics, accountability weakens. Policies are no longer judged on outcomes but on perceived righteousness. Leaders are forgiven material failure because they “fear God”. Critics are dismissed not as dissenters, but as enemies of faith.

Beyond Kenya, Meja Mwangi carried African storytelling into global conversations, winning international recognition while remaining rooted in local realities. Even when he lived and worked abroad, his imagination never left home. Kenya was always the beating heart of his work. For generations of readers, writers, journalists and students, Mwangi offered permission: permission to write boldly, to centre the margins, to resist romanticising struggle, and to tell African stories without apology or translation.

Apart from these wild musings, Aliet was surprisingly calm. The contrast between his measured presence and the provocation of his ideas perhaps explains both his devoted following and the unease he stirs in others. Walking beside him made one thing clear: Aliet’s worldview is not merely a set of opinions; it is a mirror reflecting the anxieties and contradictions of modern masculinity. Men claim supremacy yet depend on women for emotional stability; women shrink themselves to be chosen, even when the choosing devalues them; and the narratives we cling to continue to reinforce the very traps we complain about. Aliet may be controversial, but he exposes a truth that many would rather avoid: our relationships are shaped not just by love but by the power we fear losing.

