Horton Hears A Who |Dr. Seuss

30 Day Poetry/Prose Challenge |Day 7

On the fifteenth of May, in the Jungle of Nool, In the heat of the day, in the cool of the pool, He was splashing… enjoying the jungle’s great joys… When Horton the elephant heard a small noise.


Continue reading “Horton Hears A Who |Dr. Seuss”


The Period |Charles Dickens

30 Day Poetry/prose Challenge |Day 5


It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way–in short, the period was so far like the present period, that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received, for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only.

– From A Tale Of Two Cities; Book The First, Re-Called To Life

30 Day Writing Challenge |Day 30

I did some of my best writing while waiting in queue at the banking hall that year. 

There wasn’t much else to do. So, with one ear listening for the automated teller to call out my number, i’d take out my notebook and begin to write what I saw. The 20-something year old guy in all white and neon yellow high-tops, the bang of windows shutting from my left on the far end of the banking hall. The two AP’s seated at the entrance. The fiber-glass lions on either side of the customer service desk. 

And, as it often happens, a story began to emerge around those individuals and circumstances.

For an hour, all I did was watch and write. And somehow, at the end of only two such sessions i’d not only had my banking issues resolved but also walked out with what I hoped was a viable manuscript for the movie.

To see what it’s materialized into is surreal. To join you all here, is unbelievable. And there are no words that I can use to describe the feeling of seeing the award I now hold, made out in my name and titled for my manuscript. All I can say is… thank you.”




30 Day Writing Challenge |Day 26

To everyone else in the world, ‘Maasai’ was a Kenyan tribe. To me, ‘Maasai was the fleet of trucks that my father owned.

I still remember them, lined against the boundary wall of the company parking lot; short, white corrugated bodies with the ‘Maasai’ name emblazoned in red unmistakably on either side. On the driver’s side, the imprint of a moran warrior next to the owner details on the door. This last touch had been my idea. Dad had been delighted. He always said that I had lent to it a touch of sophistication.

“…Sophie?” called the lawyer, drawing me out of my reverie.

“We’ve agreed to sell the company interests.”  reiterated by brother – a slight edge of irritation in his voice – when he realized that I hadn’t been paying attention.

Looking at my siblings seated around the lawyer’s table. It was then that I was finally able to understand, it would be me.would be the one to continue my father’s legacy.

“No.” came my reply. And all hell broke loose in the room.

30 Day Writing Challenge |Day 20

The storm clouds made good on their threat and within minutes rain had began to fall.

And as it fell, the waters pooled quietly at the center of the polythene covering overhead. Every now and again, one of the traders sheltering underneath would tilt the edge and a rush of water would come running down to the ground below. Sometimes catching a lone customer unaware as they hurriedly tried to make their  way out of the marketplace; their shopping having been cut abruptly short. The clothes now lay in bundles as their owners huddled underneath waiting out the storm.


30 Day Writing Challenge |Day 14

Umuzi wamagcino – the last village. A term that the old poacher had  used to describe the location of the new settlement he had discovered.

Over the years, wild buffalo had been driven further and further into the interior, forcing him and other hunters to go beyond the herds’ traditional grazing grounds. And on his latest expedition, he had stumbled upon an area, previously unknown. And untouched.

One. All I need is just one good slave run. Patterson thought as he made his way through the brush, behind his guides.