She turned to the cameras and pressed the back of her wrists to one eye. She had used the methylated chapstick that her personal assistant (and campaign secretary) had placed on the podium to dab the edges of her wristwatch and pantsuit coat with menthol. The sting drew the required tears.

“And don’t tell me you don’t know when a lawyer is performing for the cameras too … even if the media weren’t there. You know how it is with clients. They like to see some drama for their money. That’s the babe of criminal lawyers.”

BECKY WAS ON HER FIFTH Smirnoff Black Ice. Panty Remover. That’s what they called it. Take two, and you want to drop your pants for anything that qualifies as male or would make that waltzing in your pants go away.

She didn’t feel concerned at first, not until she glanced over her right shoulder and saw the men running, catching up on her, closing in. Within no time, they were onto her. One of the men slammed her to a wall, and before she could scream, an adhesive tape was stuck to her lips, sealing them as though to keep a secret. Plastic cables lashed her wrists and legs together.

“You are such a selfish bastard, as you always were. It hurt like hell when I terminated the pregnancy, knowing I had also lost you. ‘Where do I go? What do I do?’ I asked myself.”

The nine millimetre fired at point blank range. “You should have stayed where you belong. Get your fat pay slip and enjoy privileges that befit you; leave the streets we prowl to us. You were getting too close to us and made the connection that we are the most feared in Nakuru of late. If only you could get us better pay …”

WHEN I KIDNAPPED MYSELF, AND send a ransom demand to my scumbag father, I did not expect he’d pay. But

“TVs today are over-pumped with concoctions of estrogen and testosterone, too much sex being advocated for by Safe Sex and Contraceptives Campaigns. There are too many adverts for hedonism, crime, violence, perversion, injustice, and vengeance.

MEN DON’T CRY. GOD FORBID! When the Pastor said ‘If there’s anyone against these two becoming two in one, come

It was a high-profile case with a high-octane media frenzy. I was now part of statistics of rising cases of police officers killing their spouses. The only twist was that I did not end my life in the process of giving crime reporters a field day.

Hail Mary full of grace … She repeated for the umpteenth time. Pray for us sinners, now and the hour of our death. Amen.

I stopped crying the minute the ground swallowed my mother up, leaving no trace of her save for her photos that constantly reminded me of her. The mourning period turned into a tussle over what my loving mother bequeathed me.