Long after I had read former Standard columnist and writer Maximillia Muninzwa's fascinating but yet to be published novel, Even Angels Fall, I walked into a restaurant in Nairobi with a friend one afternoon, and we made to sit at a table next to the exit door.
Across, there was a couple who had just ordered a superfluously sumptuous lunch, but which they now would eat hurriedly and leave. Apparently, the man had noticed us as we entered and we were the cause of their haste departure! On their way out, the man stopped at our table and exchanged greetings with my accomplice. He spotted jeans trousers and a white t-shirt. His companion adorned a brightly translucent dress that revealed her feminine outline and the colour of her brassier. "He's a priest in Nyeri," my accomplice said laconically.
...