Three days after Christmas, a lanky youth in torn jeans and
unruly dreadlocks turned up at Padre Pardo’s church. He was
accompanied by a thoroughly mixed mongrel dog that, like the young man
seemed in need of fattening. They found the padre standing in the churchyard,
right where the car park would have been, if he had a car owning congregation,
armed with a slasher and sweating heavily.
“Preachers don’t do that,” said the young man. “They make their followers do all
the hard work. But then, you don’t have followers, do you?”
... READ ON
In this return to Kambi , Meja Mwangi revives the hard women and their
harder men who made “Baba Pesa” such a fun read. Phil Bright -
The Black Street Review
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