TITLE: After 4:30

AUTHOR: David G. Maillu

PUBLISHER: Self-Published

REVIEWER: Tracy M. Ochieng

AVAILABILITY: shop.eKitabu.com, ‘On eKitabu’ app and local bookstores

PRICE: Ksh 700 (Print)

It is 1974 Nairobi. Eleven years after independence, the country is still reeling from colonial hangovers. Jomo Kenyatta is in power, his rule deeply entrenched in patriarchal systems. Women, once relegated to childbearing and the kitchen, are increasingly joining the workforce as nurses and secretaries. It is a new world; a man’s word is law, and women remain secondary characters to men in their lives in the journey called life.

It is in this world that characters like Emili Katango, Beti and Lili in After 4:30 navigate love, power, and survival—especially the women, who must carve spaces for themselves in a city that still treats them as afterthoughts.

What immediately strikes you in After 4:30 is David Maillu’s raw and unfiltered language. Many who still remember reading his books describe his language as vulgar, even dubbing him the father of vulgar literature—scandalous to some, demonized and pornographic to moralists, while Gen-Z and young people who are interacting with this 51-year-old book have crowned it to be fiercely bold and timely. Unlike those before them, they no longer tear off covers for fear of being caught or hide under blankets at night. Instead, they read it openly, even seeking one-on-one sessions with the enigmatic man behind the words.

Granted, verses like this would make anyone feel uneasy and either agree with him or get repulsed:

‍They rounded up women

they called prostitutes

and transported them 

to the countryside 

for disposal 

so as to clean up the city 

maybe 

to impress tourists and governors.

‍

But they didn't round up 

men prostitutes 

because women were the devils 

and men were the angels.

With verses like these, Maillu lays bare the hypocrisy of societal morality, exposing gendered double standards with a bluntness that makes his critics squirm. Some see this as fearless social commentary; others, as crude provocation. Either way, it refuses to be ignored.

‍Before Chimamanda, there was Maillu

Long before Chimamanda, there was Maillu. While Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie has been instrumental in shaping African feminism, After 4:30 (dare I say) was its original, unapologetic manifesto. Imagine a time when topics like abortion, sexual harassment, and even women demanding equality in the bedroom were almost unspeakable—yet Maillu dared to write about them. In an era when women were expected to be subservient, his female characters rebelled. What would Emili, Lili, or Beti say if they heard Nairobi women in 2025 calling themselves modern? Ha! 

Can men be feminists? Some readers of After 4:30 have been so struck by the book’s raw, accurate portrayal of women’s struggles that they assumed it was written by a woman. 

Maillu’s ability to capture Emili Katango’s experience, a prostitute (most beloved character) with such precision raises an interesting question—was he simply an observant storyteller, or was he, in a way, a feminist before the label was widely embraced?

When Emili’s finances dwindle and, after enduring a series of violent failed marriages—to Silvesta, Paulo Mbelenzi, and Sospita—she turns to sex work to provide for her children.. She finds herself in trouble with a policeman who rounds up sex workers allegedly for spreading diseases and taking the money which men work hard for. A survivor hardened by the streets, Emili understands that if you can’t beat the system, you become part of it. She explains:

‍For safety

you must have a friend 

a lawyer friend 

a police friend 

and a politician friend.

Pragmatism was the order of the day and sometimes equality meant toeing the line. 

‍Office husbands and wives

“Who is dating the CEO?”

Whispers of office romance and stories of women climbing the corporate ladder to infiltrate powerful spaces are old news.Progressive women might argue that they simply used what they had to secure their futures. Or, as Emili bluntly states:

‍If what I carry is what men want

I’ll insist on a fair bargain

even though a hungry person

has no choice.

Lili, an educated secretary, catches the keen eye of her boss, Nikolas Mukoko—a wealthy, married man with a Volvo and plenty of cash to lavish on her. Nikolas promises her trips, promotions, dinners at fancy restaurants with powerful people and romance that her boyfriend Daniel wouldn’t afford. Tempting, right? This phenomenon has been coined as love bombing and even the strongest soldiers and suckers for romance cannot escape the clutches of love bombing. It appears as you read on that Lili acquiesces at some point due to her vulnerable situation when Daniel leaves for the United States. Frustrated by her resistance, Nikolas snaps:

‍Lili, please do me a favour

Carry away your filth

step out of my car

With your flamingo legs…

Quite a familiar reaction with men who claim they don’t know how to process rejection from women. It is apparent, however, that when people feel powerless, they look for avenues to express themselves. Usually in the workplace dynamic, it could look like a boss (male or female) harassing their juniors sexually, physically or emotionally.

‍My Man!My Man! My Man!

If there’s one thing women are often cautioned against these days, it’s taking too much pride in their partners. Even Nikolas understands this when he interrupts Lili, who is busy singing Daniel’s praises, and pointedly asks:

Can you guarantee anyone
that that man of yours
shall never be a polygamist?

As many Kenyan authors have alluded, Nairobi is a big bedroom. It seems we are just now acknowledging this, but Maillu was well aware of it 51 years ago.

Recently, a report by Citizen Digital revealed that 51 per cent of Nairobi women are open to exploring polygamy—a fact that has shocked many, considering Kenya’s strong Christian foundations, where monogamy is widely accepted as the ideal form of marriage.

The question of polygamy remains a contentious one, sparking mixed reactions and heated debates. For some, it is inconceivable to love more than two or even four people at the same time. Yet, for others, polygamy is seen as a practical solution—ensuring that every woman has a man. It seems that ideas about marriage are shifting, with more people realizing that polygamy might be a practical alternative—better than constantly hearing rumors about a philandering husband and waging war against mistresses. In more tragic cases, some men have even lost their lives simply for loving another woman.

(I won’t get into polyandry today—it’s after 4:30, and, well, it’s a man’s world.)

Praises for After 4:30

A visit to Dr. Maillu’s Mathemboni home reveals just how deeply After 4:30 resonates with young readers today.

“Africans try to be cultured in their writing. You are saying it for them. You make people feel like they are not misfits in their thoughts,” one book club member stated.

“This book is very different from what I’m used to. These are the kind of stories I read from short story blogs abroad,” said another.

“If you told me this book was written in 2024, I would believe it,” a third book club member said.

After 4:30 is more than just a book; it’s a mirror to society, a bold declaration, and a timeless, deeply feminist work that refuses to be silenced. Decades after its release, it still provokes, unsettles, and sparks urgent conversations—proof that Maillu was never just ahead of his time. He was, and remains, necessary.

Tracy Ochieng is a staff writer with Books in Africa. Email: tracy.ochieng@ekitabu.com