It is my fault that I did not ask Kamau Kiarie if he still listens to the radio—a motif that reared its head over and over in our conversation. Back then life was breezy, he says. His past is a museum we visit often: people were more honest back then. We could eat everything back then, and not worry about anything. I could have seized some opportunities back then. He bends his knee at this museum, under the weight of imagined futures: can I be better?
Maybe, maybe not. His gift is that he can live in the present, where he is writing his chapter as the CEO of East African Educational Publishers. Underneath that patina of meticulous philosopher, lies a lover. I mean, he listens to Julio Iglesias. Not occasionally. Ordinarily.
