In Carcase for Hounds, Meja Mwangi puts us deep inside the head of General Haraka — a Mau Mau fighter alone in the forest, sick, exhausted, hunted from every side. His allies have disappeared. His ammunition is running low. The government forces, led by D.C. Kingsley,...
There is a particular kind of humility that follows a fall. It does not announce itself. It does not write a press release or compose a holding statement. It comes in very early on a quiet morning, sits down at a desk with a blank document, and begins asking the...
Nobody tells you this when you are starting out: the very culture that saves your company in year one will threaten to destroy it in year five. Not the market. Not the competition. Not the funding gap. The culture you built. The one you were proud of, the one your...
There is a myth that floats around the edges of Africa’s tech ecosystem. It goes something like this: you have a big idea, you pitch it to the right people in the right room, the capital arrives, and you build. This myth has a specific geography—it is usually...
There is a version of my story that fits neatly into a headline. It has a villain. A scandal. A one-line verdict. It is the version that travels fastest, indexes highest, and says least about what actually happened — and nothing at all about what I spent a decade...
