I am always late for work. There. I've said it. And the frustrating thing is that my lateness isn't caused by traffic or some unpredictable morning disaster. Most of the time, it is entirely my own doing. I wake up and make my coffee. Then I get back into bed, which is right by the window, cross my feet, face the window and slowly sip my coffee. And when I say slowly, I mean slowly. I look at the trees. I watch the birds. I feel the morning sun on my skin. Sometimes I just sit there with my thoughts. I really love these mornings. I've also noticed something else. When I give myself enough time in the morning, my body usually does what it needs to do. A slow morning often leads to a bowel movement, which, as far as I'm concerned, is one of the must-haves of starting my day. And so I find myself wishing for more time. More time to sit. More time to drink my coffee. More time to maybe get outside and do some yoga or mat Pilates on the grass while the sun is stil...
Alcohol has long been part of Kenyan life. But how it is made, consumed, and understood has shifted dramatically across time. From its ritualistic, sacred roots in indigenous communities to its transformation into a widespread social escape and public health crisis, Kenya's relationship with alcohol is deeply tied to its history, politics, economy, and cultural evolution. This piece traces how we got here — not in metaphor, but in fact. 1. Pre-Colonial Period: Brewing and Ritual Long before colonization, communities across Kenya practiced traditional brewing. Alcohol was not only accepted but woven into social and spiritual life. Different ethnic groups brewed various fermented drinks: Muratina among the Kikuyu, made from wild fruits and honey. Busaa , common among the Luhya and Kalenjin, made from fermented maize and millet. Mnazi (palm wine), tapped by Mijikenda and coastal communities. Uji ya Kigage , a mildly alcoholic porridge used in both everyday and ceremonial contexts. T...