Like a scene in a mob Hollywood blockbuster, his juggernaut screeches right at the entrance of Nairobi’s Jubilee Insurance Centre. Two doors fly open. He steps out, a big man: Suited, a white mane, silver mustachioed, long arms.
Now hunched with age, and maybe the weight of his responsibilities, he hulks swiftly towards the entrance with a determined tunnel version. An assistant keeps at his heels carrying two leather attaches.
