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COMING OF AGE By Jenny Kihara: So when Allan asked me to write about how it feels to turn 21 and officially become an adult, I thought, OMG! I am ancient!! Where has the time gone?! But slowly, that changed. Zora Neale Hurston once wrote about a river that was deep in conversation with a nearby brook. The river was telling the brook about a love story that he had witnessed as he passed through the village. Mr River here, (not his real name) told the story, which had happened over a long time. What caught my attention was how the river kept referring to years as man’s way of defining time. The river found it very absurd. Almost funny. How man can call a particular period 40 years. Or 2 minutes, like that. And now, I find myself in agreement with the river. Time cannot be limited, or put into slots. Time is just time. Perpetual sunrises and sunsets. And aging is simply the passage of time. For me, coming of age feels like coming back to who I was, before teenage-hood took over. Ou

Let me set the mood for today's story, a tiny matatu, probably, 11 seater. Plot twist, we are almost 700 in this space, no joke, literally 700 (we are tiny people so we are packed like tins of jam) okay, seriously, we are around 17 of us including the driver. Do I make up part of this excess? OF COURSE! I wouldn't be left behind while others had the time of their lives rubbing bodies and stuff. So, I am the excess on the very back row of seats. In my face, is a sweaty head. This is my substitute for Oxygen ladies and gentlemen. Body excretion is what I am filling my lungs with. Not like my lungs are in tip top shape though. Far from it, I've been blowing chalk dust rings since I was 7, I am the original ' Bad boy kutoka standard 2 ' #NyashinskiReference Sidebar: can I just say how much I loved that song, kwanza the hook, " Usimpe roho yako waza kwanza wapi tofauti yake nao? Sina noma naye wououo!!!!! " Many are the matatu rides when I would fantasize b