My cousin’s job was winding down, so I met him briefly at Kettle House on Nairobi’s Muthangari Road to offer moral support—with a few beers, of course. He’s not one to lament, this cousin. Very stoic. He talks about losing a job the same way you’d talk about losing a sock—mild inconvenience, nothing personal. And those are the ones to watch; the ones who don’t show emotion.
I hadn’t been to Kettle House since pre-Covid. The last time I was there, a woman was beating a man with her purse outside by the roadside at 2am. That was fun to watch. The whole place has mutated.
