PICTORY V.2 END VOLUME SPECIAL – THE MESSIAH

I never understood how the savior convinced everybody to follow him. It must have been the healings, resurrections and miraculous amounts he seemed to summon.

The humans cast their nets above us all night, but none came close. When morning came, we all celebrated as all but one of their vessels left the lake. We lost track I guess, and didn’t see them till they were all over, hauling us up.

I slipped out by luck and saw the savior lying on the sand, crushed under the sandal of a long haired human who was addressing our captors, “I will make you fishers of men…”

“About fucking time!” I shouted as I slipped back into the water and inhaled deep.

‘Pictory’ – A picture and a story speaking of and from each other.

Story – ngartia

Picture – Kimani Wandaka

KIMANI WANDAKA – images with life.

PICTORY V.2 #67 – REFLECTION

Some children are peculiar. Angelic on the exterior but pitch black souls. There was something in me…

We should never have sailed that far into the sea. I should never have taunted her to dive into the sea to prove herself. I probably could have done something to save her. My folks should never have shielded me from the consequences of my reality.

I was young then. Now, I know better. Now my reflection in the waters look less of me and more of her. Occasionally, at odd hours, I hear someone tapping at my window. I have always ignored her, but curiosity is killing me. Are her breasts fuller? Her hair blacker? Hips wider? Do they grow in death?

‘Pictory’ – A picture and a story speaking of and from each other.

Story – Kendi Kiogora

Picture – Kimani Wandaka

KIMANI WANDAKA – images with life.

PICTORY V.2 #66 – EVERY THURSDAY NIGHT

Every Thursday night it possesses me.

Every Thursday night I make us dinner and too soon after the meal, they are too drowsy and retire.

Every Thursday night I relive a period of my life when darkness reigned in my soul.

Every Thursday night I sneak out and go to the local motel.

Every Thursday night I pretend its Sunday.

And every Sunday, I read from my favourite scripture,

´The angel said to me, “Why are you amazed? I will explain to you the mystery of the woman and the beast that carries her, the beast with the seven heads and…”.’

Every Sunday night, I bleed myself into the skull of my dead child.

‘Pictory’ – A picture and a story speaking of and from each other.

Story – Kendi Kiogora

Picture – Kimani Wandaka

KIMANI WANDAKA – images with life.

PICTORY V.2 #65 – CHICKEN PEN A TRAGEDY

ACT 1
SCENE 1. The Birdzaar.

Cock: …we strike when he sleepeth…

Shutterbug walks in, clicking away as usual. Silence.

Shutterbug: I come to collect my meal. Though it appears I walked into a coup.

Hen: Gaze, see that we live in a coop… But good Sir, dost thou even hoist?

Cock: Hen, thou fowlish behavior baffles. He said ‘coup’ not ‘coop’

Hen: Thine utterances make the least sense.

Cock: Clicker, pardons, we are but a paltry few.

Hen: Yes, we’re poultry.

Shutterbug: The noisiest oughta be the tastiest…

Shutterbug grabs Cock and Hen, Exits.

END

‘Pictory’ – A picture and a story speaking of and from each other.

Story – Jonathan Paul

Picture – Kimani Wandaka

KIMANI WANDAKA – images with life.

PICTORY V.2 #64 – LIFE OFF THE LEDGE

“Is it true?”

“Is what true?”

“Don’t do that?”

“Yes.”

“Are you…pregnant?”

“Fuck you man!”

“Well…are you?”

“It is none of your business. Not anymore.”

“Babe… Come on… I didn’t mean it like that.”

“No? How did you mean it huh? You know what? Fuck off.”

“Do you love him?”

She steps off their favourite ledge. She has a look he has never seen. This is the stuff those sappy love songs are made of.

“He is what I need.”

He scoffs as he steps off the ledge.

“You should burn those shoes. They are hideous.” She says then walks away.

‘Pictory’ – A picture and a story speaking of and from each other.

Story – Shiko Ngure

Picture – Kimani Wandaka

KIMANI WANDAKA – images with life.

PICTORY V.2 #63 – BUBBLING UNDER

I often think about how much I loved him when he took this picture…

I was all starry eyed; he made me feel like a queen.

Until, he didn’t.

He’d just told me he cheated on me, he slept with her and it didn’t mean anything.

I sat there… not knowing what to do. How do you even respond?

I cried my eyes out, I could gag but I’d already shown too much emotion.

I sat there, hiding my face.  ‘No stop… really. Don’t do it!’

The shutter sounded like the final curtain call… I heard my heart break into small pieces.

I knew it was over.

I guess the picture was a memoir for the pain.

I am about to scream!

‘Pictory’ – A picture and a story speaking of and from each other.

Story – Shallom Muriuki

Picture – Kimani Wandaka

KIMANI WANDAKA – images with life.

PICTORY V.2 #62 – ART OF DYING

He loved her art and how she practiced it even in her cooking.

When he called home saying his business trip was cut short, she prepared his favourite meal – Ugali, and beef stew spiced up with some bit of pepper, coriander, and potatoes. She had learnt the recipe from his mom and was always finger licking. And lick his fingers he did that evening when she surprised him with some romantic out in the garden dinner.

She knew her secret ingredient- moonflower – had worked when she opened the door to her mother’s apartment and was welcomed by the sight of the two cops. She wondered if they had visited his “secretary” too.

‘Pictory’ – A picture and a story speaking of and from each other.

Story – Aenid Kathambi

Picture – Kimani Wandaka

KIMANI WANDAKA – images with life.

PICTORY V.2 #61 – YOU ARE CORDIALLY INVITED TO OUR SEA WEDDING

In the life we have shared from a distance, they have used you at most times. They have taken your back and built on it. If anything they have made a life out of your waste. They have guarded you for their own benefit.

I have been attacked every time I have tried to come close to you. They have added the word fire to my name. But I only burn at the possibility of being with you.

Just last night your existence became water under the bridge.

Finally with you and in you I have made a home. I smelt your glorious scent as I bore into you a new wave.

A new life.

‘Pictory’ – A picture and a story speaking of and from each other.

Story – Edwin ‘the divine bandit’ Mukabi

Picture – Kimani Wandaka

KIMANI WANDAKA – images with life.

PICTORY V.2 #60 – SPARE THE ROD

All sounds remained muted and unresonant. No mindless chatter. No clanking of glasses. No loud laughter. No music. It had all died down. Silence.

Her breasts jiggled with every quick move she made, pulling and pushing the rod. Scoring and winning. Drunken cheers. The blinking lights made a spectral beauty of her, her face glistened with sweat. He could feel a bulge in his pants. Gaddammit!

She had felt the stare on her, so hard she’d been uncomfortable.

Now she watches him from behind the shadows, as he walks around and stands right where she had. He moves his hand as though to grab the rod only to pull out his member and begin to stroke himself furiously.

‘Pictory’ – A picture and a story speaking of and from each other.

Story – Kendy Kiogora

Picture – Kimani Wandaka

KIMANI WANDAKA – images with life.

PICTORY V.2 #59 – JENNY AND THE BIKE

“Now you know you’ll always ride the bike while standing, right?”  Jenny said.

“The doctor said I can go back to using the seat, when my kanyamu heals.” I retorted.

It had been two days after a nasty bike accident that almost claimed my little manhood, and two months after Jenny’s family had moved in next door. I was one year older than her and couldn’t understand how, at 12, she was better than me at riding the bike.

That bike was mean to me, but besides the scars, I smile every time I remember the new sensation I discovered years after the accident, when she insisted on confirming whether my kanyamu actually worked.

I still ride it though… while standing.

‘Pictory’ – A picture and a story speaking of and from each other.

Story – Allan Mwangi Melchowistz

Picture – Kimani Wandaka

KIMANI WANDAKA – images with life.

PICTORY V.2 #58 – DISTANCE

“Baby do you love me?”

“You know I do. Why do you ask?”

“I don’t know. We feel distant these days.”

“We do? Urrmmm, I hadn’t noticed. I thought we were okay?”

“I know, I know we are. But we just don’t feel the same.”

“Is it me Hunnie? Is it the sex? Because I only came too soon because it had been a while.”

“Haha, you fool! No, its not always about sex. It’s not that. It’s everything. We feel different.”

“Do you still think of her?”

“Of course I do. Everyday. Every waking moment. Did we make the right decision?”

“I think so. I hope so.”

‘Pictory’ – A picture and a story speaking of and from each other.

Story – Owaahh ‘Morris Kiruga’

Picture – Kimani Wandaka

KIMANI WANDAKA – images with life.

PICTORY V.2 #57 – THE LAST WAVE

Every weekend, John would hide behind the trees and whistle – leisurely like a farmer satisfied with his harvest. I would tiptoe from the living room to the window, draw the curtains and wave.

A wave meant I’d be down in five minutes. No wave meant, Mum is taking a break from her novel so I can’t sneak out.

Then on December 24, John didn’t whistle, but I went to the window anyway. There he was, leaning against a tree. As I raised my hands to wave, someone emerged from nowhere and pulled him away.

I never saw him again. But I stood by the window every weekend, until one day, Mum followed me there, a magazine in hand. On the cover was John on his wedding day. I threw the magazine down towards the trees, and I jumped after it.

I was lucky I only ended up on a wheelchair.

‘Pictory’ – A picture and a story speaking of and from each other.

Story – Harriet Anena

Picture – Kimani Wandaka

KIMANI WANDAKA – images with life.

PICTORY V.2 #56 – TUNNEL VISION

They go back hoping to find it again.

Do you remember? She whispers into his neck.

And he recoils at the smell of her.

Back then he hadn’t washed his hand all week. In the middle of the night whilst the dogs howled outside his window, he would raise his fingers to his nose, inhale her deep into his brain, and smile.

Now twenty years later they stand in the same spot, ignoring the decay around them.

She leans against the wall, back arched, heel against the wall. Poised.

He fiddles with the ring on his left finger, resisting the urge to tell her how silly she looks.

Love doesn’t just fade, he thinks. It rots. 

‘Pictory’ – A picture and a story speaking of and from each other.

Story – Aleya Kassam

Picture – Kimani Wandaka

KIMANI WANDAKA – images with life.

PICTORY V.2 #55 – VISITOR PASSING BY

‘He’s back again.’

‘Geoffrey, c’mon. Look at me and swallow.’ She sings sweetly trying to get his attention.

Oh! Hey Honey, I didn’t hear you come in.’

He walks over and kisses her on the cheek. ‘I’m stealthy like that,’ he says with a grin. Turning to look at his son, ‘Hey buddy? I swear this boy gets bigger each day.’

‘Do you have to be gone all the time? He won’t know who you are at this rate.’

‘Why is this stranger kissing my mommy. My mommy!’ Geoffrey thinks as he stretches his arms out signaling his mother to pick him up.

She instinctively picks him. Then he glares at the strange man from the familiar safety of her arms.

‘Pictory’ – A picture and a story speaking of and from each other.

Story – Njeri Macharia

Picture – Kimani Wandaka

KIMANI WANDAKA – images with life.

PICTORY V.2 #54 – TABLE NUMBER 2

Don’t text me, she said, before 12 am. Especially never call.

Leisurely smoking his joint, Ian waited for 0001 hrs to hit, before hitting ‘Send’.
The
“Hey troll? Ready to come out and play?” His text read.

The reply was almost instant: three laughing and one running emoji. She came, they got stoned, and after speculating whether they were actually ghosts since the stars above were already dead, he said something about leaving a mark in the world.

She barked out in laughter and banged the metallic table so hard it echoed into the silent night. Then stopping suddenly and touching the table almost endearingly, she stared at him and said in a breathy whisper, “I want to leave a mark too.”

‘Pictory’ – A picture and a story speaking of and from each other.

Story – Hellen Masido

Picture – Kimani Wandaka

KIMANI WANDAKA – images with life.

PICTORY V.2 #53 – SPACED OUT

He sat there,pondering. Making half assed attempts at being part of conversations. He couldn’t keep his mind off it. For long periods he’d just sit there in silence.

The pals he was with did their best to capture his attention, but he just kept drifting off. Out of frustration, they left him to his pensive self and kept the heated football debate going.

Pulling on the little stubble on his cheeks he let out a deep sigh. “She’s probably started smelling, I’ll dump her body tonight”, he thought to himself.

‘Pictory’ – A picture and a story speaking of and from each other.

Story – Vickie Zosi

Picture – Kimani Wandaka

KIMANI WANDAKA – images with life.

PICTORY V.2 #52 – THE SYSTEM

“It will pierce through your core, render your existence null and void yet hold you hostage of the so called life. Existence will need you to immerse yourself in it, yet freedom will dictate the need for separation.

Days, weeks, months, years will go by and you will struggle to break away from it. This which will become your sustenance.

But move in sync with that which moves it, operate within its confines, learn its curves and edges and allow yourself to be moved. To tear away from it you will have to tear through yourself and pull it out.

Because it, it is the system.”

Or so they say.

‘Pictory’ – A picture and a story speaking of and from each other.

Story – Wanjiru Njoroge

Picture – Kimani Wandaka

KIMANI WANDAKA – images with life.

PICTORY V.2 #51 – SEXY BACK

His was the first moustache I liked on a man. I kept staring while wondering what made it so likeable.
I was going under the knife in about half an hour, and he was fastening the straps on my robe when he saw the scar all over my back. He asked about the civil war.

I tried to be brief.

“They shot on sight, so we ducked and hang under the truck just in time. My baby brother lay on my chest with my back on the ground until the border. Everyone else died”
I wondered if it was ugly.
He said it was the sexiest scar he had ever seen – then fastened the anaesthesia mask before I could blush.

‘Pictory’ – A picture and a story speaking of and from each other.

Story – Annette Mumbi

Picture – Kimani Wandaka

KIMANI WANDAKA – images with life.

PICTORY V.2 #50 – DIVA

John was completely done with the diva movement that had swept through the music scene. Diva just didn’t translate to Nairobi artists. No one had enough clout to claim that title.

She couldn’t sing for shit and somehow it was his fault for not making her sound like freaking Aaliyah. An irritated voice came from the booth “ Get it together John!” He had put his earphones down a long time ago, was she only just noticing?

He realized that he could never pick them up again. She was shit and so was his life. He hit the replay button as unmelodic croon poured forth. Her face flashed in anger as the studio erupted in laughter. His life just got a little less shittier.

‘Pictory’ – A picture and a story speaking of and from each other.

Story – Ivy Mutisya

Picture – Kimani Wandaka

KIMANI WANDAKA – images with life.

PICTORY V.2 #49 – THE TASTE OF FREEDOM

When I saw them I truly knew how free I was. At that moment I could taste my deliverance from all my troubles. There was something calming about the different patterns and stripes formed on zebras. I remembered that no zebra had the same combination. I could feel myself spill onto the stripes and dissolve to become one with them and all that talk of your life flashing before you, trust me is just talk.

As I bled out from my wrists on to my white and black bed sheets I mastered my face into a smile, I wanted whoever found me to know that at this instance I was truly happy.

‘Pictory’ – A picture and a story speaking of and from each other.

Story – Tanya Kiseke

Picture – Kimani Wandaka

KIMANI WANDAKA – images with life.

PICTORY V.2 #48 – THE ORANGE BOWL

Ben had been staring at it for a long time now. In the midst of the crowd, everyone and every sound fades away; all he can see is that orange bowl. Sitting on the raised platform; filling by the minute. Funny how it has more money than he does.

His state of poverty and debt is something he blames himself for; thus, excitement wells up in him every time somebody places a coin or a rare note in the bowl. He will let it fill up before he takes it away. With that in mind, Ben snaps out of his haze, raises his eyes to the crowd, and keeps on beating the drum like his life depends on it.

It actually does.

‘Pictory’ – A picture and a story speaking of and from each other.

Story – Zainab M. Adam

Picture – Kimani Wandaka

KIMANI WANDAKA – images with life.

PICTORY V.2 #47 – STICKY SITUATION

Jackie felt ambushed. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Worse, because she fell for ‘brunch at the park with the girls’. Heck, they had barely packed any food.

“With your complexion babe, red will bring out those lips best.” Njeri said, as she took out her make up kit and drew out two lipstick cases. “I even brought two different shades.” “Aii no!” Sandra protested. “Purple is the way to go. Kwanza it’ll go perfectly with that tiny cute fuchsia dress you own. He’ll be drooling over you darling.”

“I’m not even sure if I want to go out with him,” Jackie tried to explain. “Plus, I think I’ll just stick with black, it doesn’t shout as much.”

‘Pictory’ – A picture and a story speaking of and from each other.

Story – Sam Murimi

Picture – Kimani Wandaka

KIMANI WANDAKA – images with life.

PICTORY V.2 #46 – A FAINT SEIZURE

Standing on the sideline, she was lost for a time. A graceful figure whose teeth flashed in amusement alongside sensual lips. She portrayed an air of keenness that demanded your attention.

You had never seen such a smile in your life. There was something intense about the way she owned it. Your eyes met and she quickly dropped her gaze. Her braids slipped forward. Blood rushed under your pale skin. You tried to make the sound of it rush in your head. You could sense an aura of eagerness, fairness overcome you. But you resolved to act as though you felt nothing as you lengthened your steps.

‘Pictory’ – A picture and a story speaking of and from each other.

Story – Em Achieng

Picture – Kimani Wandaka

KIMANI WANDAKA – images with life.

PICTORY V.2 MONTHLY SPECIAL – INTO THE SEA

I had spent the first half of my life convinced, like everybody else, that Bakari was crazy. He’d walk down the beach every morning collecting reject fish then head out to abandoned spots.

I had been thinking of how to escape the hot blandness of my life the day I ran into him breathing life back into the fish and releasing them into the sea. Our eyes met for a moment and I heard the ocean whisper my name. For once my heart stopped craving for elsewhere.

As I watched, his legs join into a green tail fin and he dived into the water, I knew I had get rid of my buibui and follow him. I had found home.

‘Pictory’ – A picture and a story speaking of and from each other.

Story – Ngartia

Picture – Kimani Wandaka

KIMANI WANDAKA – images with life.

PICTORY V.2 #45 – NOSTALGIA

“Remember this place?”

“It’s hard to forget. We did some silly things here. Some very silly things.”

He would know what she was referring to and worry that who he was then no longer meant anything to her. That he had finally, worn by time and distance, become an insignificant speck in her pile of teenage experiences. She read his despair, stopped walking and touched his hand.

“A girl doesn’t forget her first time. Whether it’s kissing or sex or smoking weed. Now, when a man is the first to take her through all three… It never leaves her. He never leaves her. And she finds herself coming back to feel some of it again.”

‘Pictory’ – A picture and a story speaking of and from each other.

Story – Sharon Ogugu

Picture – Kimani Wandaka

KIMANI WANDAKA – images with life.

PICTORY V.2 #44 – ALL OF THE LIGHTS

I would walk home with my heart pounding in anticipation.

See… I only get to see him on Fridays. He’s in uni and I am in fourth form. He’s not my lover really, I just have the hugest crush on him.

We talk about everything as we stand outside for hours with gentle lights from our block shining through.

Best part of the night is when we argue about music… Jah and DMX, Jay and Nas, Pac and Biggie.

We were never on the same side but with every word we fell deeper.

Then one day we kissed.

The lights, the meeting of our bodies, the beats… Magical.

I fell in love with Hip Hop that night.

‘Pictory’ – A picture and a story speaking of and from each other.

Story – Shallom Muriuki

Picture – Kimani Wandaka

KIMANI WANDAKA – images with life.

PICTORY V.2 #43 – DARK PLACES

I could tell that he was dead inside the moment our eyes locked.

He was pale and cold to the touch and his lips were cracked. When he turned away, as if in shame, I saw the patterned bruises all over his neck and my heart sank.

That night, when it was just the two of us, he asked me if I knew how it felt to see darkness where others saw light. He said he was in a really dark place.
I told him that I would be his light if he let me.

Just a short while later, I felt a certain darkness come over me.

I wonder if he took my light with him when he died.

‘Pictory’ – A picture and a story speaking of and from each other.

Story – Annette Mumbi

Picture – Kimani Wandaka

KIMANI WANDAKA – images with life.

PICTORY V.2 #42 – SPEECH-BUBBLED THOUGHTS

BALDIE: Sheeeet! See how fine the taller one is!… Off to get myself a chocolate bar…
CHUBBS: I know, just turn around and slut it after them. Who needs a friend anyway, when there’s a ton of chocolate in the fridge waiting to love me.
BLACKBAG: The skinny one looks as if she’s about to come over… Well, she’ll have what little tits she has left shocked off her.
EARPHONES-HEAD: This jam got me all in the moooood; can’t wait to get back in the room and take the clothes off him… All this acting like we’re just friends is tiring… Ugh.

‘Pictory’ – A picture and a story speaking of and from each other.

Story – Olubunmi Familoni

Picture – Kimani Wandaka

KIMANI WANDAKA – images with life.

PICTORY V.2 #41 – SCARS

He went home one day after school to find a multitude of villagers surrounding the Mahindra. His uncle was the first to spot him and wasted no time to whisk him away from the police vehicle carrying his sister’s lifeless body.

“What happened here?”  Young Tito asked.

Kitoto just gazed at his nephew, pondering on the best way to tell Tito that his teenage sister had committed suicide.
“…accidents happen son. The same that happened with your parents, it’s God’s will.”

“Why is God so mean and evil?”
Kitoto didn’t answer that. He couldn’t. Or maybe he was too preoccupied with the memories of his dead niece’s muffled screams as he pumped into her over and over.

‘Pictory’ – A picture and a story speaking of and from each other.

Story – Allan Mwangi Melchowistz

Picture – Kimani Wandaka

KIMANI WANDAKA – images with life.

#POTW SEQUEL WK8 #36B – WATERED DOWN

Jess had been there when they reopened the pool.

Three and a half months past. Just in time to soothe the clammy August heat.
They’d held a commission of inquiry into “the matter”; an exorcism ceremony designed to make people feel like they’d done something.  Jess had made a dazed circuit around the place in her one-piece…

Laughter…  Tight embraces… splashes… and newly-laid gravel around the pool conveniently covering “the spot”.
Her stomach had churned, pulled out of inertia by a world suddenly moving on.
Bleugh.

She’d finally stood straight and wiped her mouth in time to see the last person abandoning the pool.
They’d stared… just like they’d done on that day. 

‘Pictory’ – A picture and a story speaking of and from each other.

Story – Patrick Kioko

Picture – Kimani Wandaka

KIMANI WANDAKA – images with life.

PICTORY V.2 #40 – CHANGE IS THE ONLY CONSTANT THING

She didn’t know it was possible to tell that she was rusting from within. She could feel it though; it was one of the most uncomfortable feelings.

Some of her close friends in the class looked at her as if they knew that something in her had changed, she worried that even her teachers could see it. No matter how much she tried to act normal, she knew that everyone could tell and wondered why no one reached out to help her up until when she collapsed.

When she came to, her mother and that devil step-father were next to her and she was in hospital. The rust growing inside her was the devil’s baby.

‘Pictory’ – A picture and a story speaking of and from each other.

Story – Tanya Kiseke

Picture – Kimani Wandaka

KIMANI WANDAKA – images with life.

PICTORY V.2 #39 – LOVE BY THE HOUR

The oldest memory I have of my mother involves her digging manicured nails into a phonebook while straddling a faceless man in a phone booth.

The faceless man tried to kill her when he flipped her around and wound the receiver’s cord around her neck. Mama couldn’t scream, so she just kept gyrating while making guttural noises. “Operator! Operator! Operator!” she eventually screamed and the receiver uncoiled, and like the man, swung limp.

Mama took her pay, bundled me on her back and we headed off, to stand at another corner of our beloved city. The night had just begun.

‘Pictory’ – A picture and a story speaking of and from each other.

Story – Jonathan Paul

Picture – Kimani Wandaka

KIMANI WANDAKA – images with life.

PICTORY V.2 #38 – WANT ME PROPERLY

Want Me Properly
“Hey lovely, you’re home?”
“Yeah. What’s up?”
“Thought I’d pass by.”
“Oh!”
“Have you cooked?’
“I’m actually preparing dinner.”
“Cool. On my way.”
I’d vowed to stop feeding Pius, to stop him from squeezing himself in my weekend proggie; to ignore his flirts. I’d told myself I’d slap the phone off his ears when he romances his girlfriend in my presence.
But 30 minutes later, he was sitting on my couch, telling me my eyes turn his knee bones to butter; that my hair makes his hands itch with craving, that my character reminds him of a perfect wife.
“So, am I sleeping over tonight?”
“No!
“Why not?” he asks, his voice rising. 
“I don’ host men in my bed,”
“Coward!”
“I know. If I had balls, I’d have told you to man up and love me properly. I’d have told you to stop dancing on the grave of my emotions.”   

‘Pictory’ – A picture and a story speaking of and from each other.

Story – Harriet Anena

Picture – Kimani Wandaka

KIMANI WANDAKA – images with life.

PICTORY V.2 #37 – COME CLOSER

Welcome to my parlour.
 
I’ve been waiting all month for someone just like you.
 
Come closer…
 
Why are you crinkling your nose like that?
 
You don’t like the fragrance of eau du bovine?
 
Musky!
 
I know why you’re here… What can I say? My milkshake brings all the boys to the yard.
 
Come closer…
 
If I didn’t know better I’d think you were frightened of me.
 
I won’t bite.
 
Promise.
 
Not even a little nibble.
 
Well, maybe just the caress of my hoof on your nice juicy udders.
 
You wouldn’t like that?
 
Well the last guy who tried to steal my milk didn’t protest. Much.
 
Come closer…

‘Pictory’ – A picture and a story speaking of and from each other.

Story – Aleya Kassam

Picture – Kimani Wandaka

KIMANI WANDAKA – images with life.

PICTORY V.2 #36 – POOL GAMES

The siren goes off again, warning us that it’s time to vacate the pool area. I can’t find Benson. I last saw him on the diving board begging for one last dive.

Suddenly all the girls are exiting the pool in squeals and screams. It’s all a blur as more of the people around gasp and point, grabbing at hearts, palms over mouths.

Benson, he had gotten his dive… Now the pool of his blood grew larger on the cement.

‘Pictory’ – A picture and a story speaking of and from each other.

Story – Vickie Zosi

Picture – Kimani Wandaka

KIMANI WANDAKA – images with life.

#POTW SEQUEL WK7 #31B – BEYOND THE SILVER LINING

“Vuuuuum… vuuuum… vuuuum…”

Victor is playing with his toy car. He loves cars. Especially daddy’s. But he is too small to drive it. Today daddy had promised to take him to that place they always see on TV; the one with the big bouncing castles and the tusmall cars.

Daddy isn’t home though. Mummy had told him that his father had left extra early to look for money for them to spend that day. Mummy didn’t look very happy today but it’s probably because she doesn’t like cars so much like him.

Beep beep.

“Daddy! Daddy…Mummy, Daddy’s home!”

“Yeiii, daddy’s home,” mummy mutters weakly.

‘Pictory’ – A picture and a story speaking of and from each other.

Story – Wanjiku Mwawuganga

Picture – Kimani Wandaka

Original Pictory – PICTORY V.2 #31 – GHOSTS OF YEARS PAST

KIMANI WANDAKA – images with life.

PICTORY V.2 #35 – GOING TO SLEEP

The burning in his lungs made him gasp. It was pain like he had never imagined possible. He tried to come up with a joke comparing it to labour pains. His neighbour would rip him a new one if she even sensed his thought process.

“Feminists…”

He smiled to himself through gritted teeth.

“Fucking feminists!”

He turned in the tunnel trying to find a better position. The pain shifted with his movement. His scream and simultaneous sneeze were drowned by the clap of thunder. He attempted to laugh at his situation. They would not weep for long. They had constantly warned him about the illicit brews.

The taste of blood filled his mouth as the rain begun to fall.

‘Pictory’ – A picture and a story speaking of and from each other.

Story – Shiko Ngure

Picture – Kimani Wandaka

KIMANI WANDAKA – images with life.

PICTORY V.2 #34 – FINAL MOVE

She was seated on the black pews. As he stealthily moved towards her he could hear her whispering to the rosary. Begging, requesting to the point of anger and now commanding then back to repenting.

She knew he was there.

Not Him, him.

The hairs at the back of her neck rose. She was now on her knees. She remembered the teaching by her Bishop. It was an odd time to remember.
She had grown up a human pawn, from the hands of one fallen knight to another. Then she’d met him and he’d treated her as a queen.

“Checkmate” he whispered, folding his cassock’s sleeves. His skinny hands circled her neck. He had finally rooked her out of her soul.

‘Pictory’ – A picture and a story speaking of and from each other.

Story – Edwin ‘the divine bandit’ Mukabi

Picture – Kimani Wandaka

KIMANI WANDAKA – images with life.

PICTORY V.2 #33 – OF WAVES AND LOVE TALES

There’s something about shores and boats that breaks fibres of my being.
It was one of those random things that pass your way; – eyes follow, dizzily, and before you realise it, you’re in too deep.

A smile here, a glance there, sexting, book swapping. He loved books! Late night readings by the shores, his rich bass voice, his scent, tracing his lips with the tips of my fingers in the dark, his big soft hands clasping the hooks of my brassiere, his tongue running from the nape of my neck right to my belly…

And my favourite of them; the long wait for him to return in his cassock from conducting mass at the parish he headed.      

‘Pictory’ – A picture and a story speaking of and from each other.

Story – Aenid Kathambi

Picture – Kimani Wandaka

KIMANI WANDAKA – images with life.

PICTORY V.2 #32 – HE FLEW AWAY

I got home after an alright day at work, I was happy but wouldn’t mind a couple of worms with the boys.

It didn’t last long though, she begun nagging about the previous night.  Granted I came home smelling like some bird… not my fault.

She found a feather, not her colour… she’s waving it around and I knew I was done for. “But babe it was just the boys, nnnnnobody else I promise” I stuttered.

She grabbed me by the shoulders… I shook her off; I was getting mad… she’s taking the nest, the kids… everything.

I knew I should walk away, but I didn’t.

She’s screamed.

My feathers ruffled, I raised my hand.

I didn’t want to…

I walked away.

‘Pictory’ – A picture and a story speaking of and from each other.

Story – Shallom Muriuki

Picture – Kimani Wandaka

KIMANI WANDAKA – images with life.

PICTORY V.2 #31 – GHOSTS OF YEARS PAST

‘Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! She won’t believe me this time.’
He cursed as he navigated the corner a little faster than he had intended.

Such a beautiful morning. The sun gently warming his face.
Such warmth.  A sensation similar to her caress. Muthoni’s bosom as she gently rubbed her tits on his face.
Motor-boating she’d told him it was called.

Got carried away in her embrace.
Making him forget all his troubles.
Making him forget even his wife and child.
The nights he had spent with her were bliss.
His reality tormented him.
Too much. So much that he couldn’t be the man he needed to be.

She wouldn’t believe him this time.

For sure.

He only hoped he would still find her there. 

‘Pictory’ – A picture and a story speaking of and from each other.

Story – Njeri Macharia

Picture – Kimani Wandaka

KIMANI WANDAKA – images with life.

#POTW SEQUEL WK6 #28B – PERFECTION

“He might snap. He might pick a knife from the kitchen and cut you into little pieces” My friends said this the day after. I wasn’t afraid. He wouldn’t hurt me.

To him, I am the purest form of woman God created. I am perfection. Perfection is tainted. In 5 years I am less than perfect.

I had left him in my house to go on vacation with another. I had kicked him out when another needed to come see me in my house. I had kissed another while on a date with him. I had bitten the skin off his arm when he complained.

I am not perfection. I am the girl lying naked in another’s arms while he cries on my couch.

‘Pictory’ – A picture and a story speaking of and from each other.

Story – Wanjiku Kariuki

Picture – Kimani Wandaka

Original Pictory – PICTORY V.2 #28 – ‘FIVE TIMES-‘

KIMANI WANDAKA – images with life.

PICTORY V.2 VALENTINE SPECIAL – SPARKLY EXIT

She had mentioned her brother and “extreme measures” together several times. He must’ve been drunk. Alcohol blurred genius, seriousness and hilarity into a single picture, which was the case when he set out to buy mechanical equipment for his car repair business idea. Somewhere along the way, her loan money disappeared in a haze of whores, weed and alcohol.

When it started to clear a week later and he found himself bound to a rusty rail near yellow welding gas cylinder hissing acetylene into the air, he watched two feet walking out just before a welding machine whirred to life behind him sending brilliant sparks into the air.

The realization hit him so hard he couldn’t help but laugh.

‘Pictory’ – A picture and a story speaking of and from each other.

Story – Ngartia

Picture – Kimani Wandaka

KIMANI WANDAKA – images with life.

PICTORY V.2 #30 – NEW-USED LOVE

“The beauty of the rising sun remains within the sun, each ray a carried over possibility. It curves its way past the trees and feared shadows.”
That was what rung through my mind as I looked up at the sky, etching your name in the clouds but as nature would have it, it didn’t hold.
The prickly grass did good to remind me of my reality. Our glorious ‘could-have-been’ remained carried by the green hue cast on the lush grounds, but our reality of ‘never-will’ balanced on its thorny ends grazed and etched the color of sorrow on my naked skin.
Just like you did.

‘Pictory’ – A picture and a story speaking of and from each other.

Story – Wanjiru Njoroge

Picture – Kimani Wandaka

KIMANI WANDAKA – images with life.

PICTORY V.2 #29 – HER ONE NIGHT MISTAKE

‘Jack arrives back tomorrow. He’ll be furious.’ Jill told her neighbour.
She’d just received the news that would change her life forever. As she lay on the grass that afternoon, she could already feel the changes in her body. Two months in. Two kilograms heavier. Jack would not be pleased.
They met at the university four years ago. Who’d have guessed Jill’s timid but funny lab-partner would come to mean so much to her. But all that would come crumbling down when he found out. Jill didn’t know if Jack wanted kids, but that wouldn’t matter.
Two months in. One month off. Jack has been away for three months. His brother, John, is her virile neighbour.

‘Pictory’ – A picture and a story speaking of and from each other.

Story – Zainab M. Adam

Picture – Kimani Wandaka

KIMANI WANDAKA – images with life.

PICTORY V.2 #28 – ‘FIVE TIMES -‘

Every fortnight, for about a year, my therapist and I would play chess in her cozy, dainty office. I would wonder if she knew how it felt to scrub a kind of filth that never washed away – but we hardly spoke so I didn’t ask.

One day she asked if they were five – the guys who assaulted me.

I asked her how she had known.

She said I always queened my pawns on the sixth move, never fifth.

So I asked her how long it would be before I showered and felt clean again. She said it would be a multiple of five.
Ten years later, I stopped scrubbing. Maybe my kind of filth couldn’t wash away.

‘Pictory’ – A picture and a story speaking of and from each other.

Story – Annette Mumbi

Picture – Kimani Wandaka

KIMANI WANDAKA – images with life.

PICTORY V.2 #27 – A ROOM

I beam at the room as I step in. It is impossible to ignore the silent accusations it imposes. My gaze searches for answers in the blurry glass beyond. I believe it is the same size as the one next to me. No touch of softness has a place here. Though it is a wonder, I have been in this room before and it felt different.

And I settle on my other hobby of inventing lives for everything I see. The blurry pictures on the wall, I know they inspire fear. I try to figure out the glass in fragments. The shadowy corners of the room look oppressive. But everything else looks fair.

‘Pictory’ – A picture and a story speaking of and from each other.

Story – Em Achieng’

Picture – Kimani Wandaka

KIMANI WANDAKA – images with life.

PICTORY V.2 #26 – MASAKU

As they took a break from heaving in the mud, Jaymo couldn’t help but reminisce about Aisha, or was it Alicia? Her name wasn’t the only A-word he was thinking about.

Oti’s head was spinning. He kept muffling curses under his breath; mud had been flung on his new trousers, adding to the puke stains from last night.

The car had barely moved. Kevo seemed to be pushing the hardest. His dad would kill him if he didn’t have the car back home by noon. It was a quarter past ten.

Timo couldn’t contain himself. He’d laugh hysterically while he sat behind the wheel, shouting orders at the rest. Who’d have thought a sprained ankle would bring such luck?

‘Pictory’ – A picture and a story speaking of and from each other.

Story – Sam Murimi

Picture – Kimani Wandaka

KIMANI WANDAKA – images with life.

#POTW PREQUEL WK5 #25B – LANDMARK

As told later, my mother had waited two months; an appropriate mourning period. Then, huffing through her third trimester with two fundis in tow, she had overseen the deconstruction of grandma’s (her mother- in-law’s) mabati gazebo. My father, the structure’s architect, came home to find nary a nail in sight.

Maybe it was due to the bald spot on the lawn or, as my uncle claims, it was a covert scheme to mark her newly cemented authority over the household. Nonetheless, two weeks later, she had Cousin Juma deliver this new shrub he had acquired from Tanzania.
My aunt swears the plant only started thriving the day after I was born.

‘Pictory’ – A picture and a story speaking of and from each other.

Story – Patrick Kioko

Picture – Kimani Wandaka

KIMANI WANDAKA – images with life.

PICTORY V.2 #25 – HOME

There was a plant in my mother’s garden that was older than me, than all of us. It reminded me of home more than the house did. It grew and blossomed every year, like clockwork, and mum made us prune it.

We grew up and left, but it stood there still, fighting with the most resilient woman I have ever known. It grew wild when she died, wild as if its tormentor had finally gone, and it could now grow free. It won, and blossomed the next year like it had a story to tell. When my brother moved in to the house, his wife had it uprooted.

‘Pictory’ – A picture and a story speaking of and from each other.

Story – ‘Owaahh’ Morris Kiruga

Picture – Kimani Wandaka

KIMANI WANDAKA – images with life.

PICTORY V.2 #24 – ETERNAL BRIDE

He had found her beautiful without the taint of lust, a sincere admiration. She walked down the aisle to a crowded room. The congregation sat as she got to the dais. She peeked into a coffin and stroked her lover’s face; even in death he was handsome. Her vows recited“…and not even death shall keep us apart”.

She sipped from the poisoned goblet and lowered herself into his crystal coffin. Next to him. As they rolled them out, she caught a glimpse of the church building and the tears that fell onto the coffin screen further hindered her sight. She had not expected anyone to mourn her and found herself wondering if her husband would be pleased to meet her as death took her.

‘Pictory’ – A picture and a story speaking of and from each other.

Story – Ivy Mutisya

Picture – Kimani Wandaka

KIMANI WANDAKA – images with life.

PICTORY V.2 #23 – INSANITY

Insanity is:

1: Washing his fingers in an attempt to rid himself of her fluids and the whiff of her loins after meeting her in a secluded location where they sit on chairs across each other, and he ends up pulling hers closer to his, her thighs spread open and his fingers exploring warmth and waters his mind denies.

It is like a play and every time they meet is the rehearsal.

2: Going to the other one that he goes to after washing his fingers, for further cleansing in insincere hugs and kisses as imagined love.

‘Pictory’ – A picture and a story speaking of and from each other.

Story – Mwangi Muriithi

Picture – Kimani Wandaka

KIMANI WANDAKA – images with life.

PICTORY V.2 #22 – FAMILY TRADITION

For the third time this week, we have sat for dinner before 7:30 p.m. It is only Wednesday. I have come to dislike this seemingly intimate family tradition.

When we got married four years ago, Kevin and I had leftover pizza and Tusker malt for breakfast on weekends. During the week, we danced between baked potatoes with nyama choma, spare ribs or fried chicken. Then his doctor announced that Kevin’s cholesterol was too high and called me a human apple.

After three years of overfamiliarity and tugs-of-war, we now have dinner together every other night. The routine is mildly comforting, but I miss our lazy weekends, real conversation and greasy dinners.

‘Pictory’ – A picture and a story speaking of and from each other.

Story – Sharon Ogugu

Picture – Kimani Wandaka

KIMANI WANDAKA – images with life.

PICTORY V.2 #21 – SAILED AWAY

The ocean, snidely winked at him in the scorching afternoon sun. And with every wave that touched his feet then receded, he felt it daring him onwards, like a long nailed temptress with a fleeting but potent touch. And for the first time in three months, Bakari felt like a curtain had been lifted from his eyes.

He saw truly that his wife and daughter were gone. She’d written a letter he hid without reading and carried on like nothing happened. For the Past. Three. Months. Coward! Another wave crushed at his bare feet but they fought back, stepping decisively into his canoe.
He left his soul on the shore and the ocean took his body, put it to use.

‘Pictory’ – A picture and a story speaking of and from each other.

Story – Hellen Masido

Picture – Kimani Wandaka

KIMANI WANDAKA – images with life.

#POTW SEQUEL WK4 #17B – THE STORY WITHOUT A NAME

I spawned the devil and then I fucked h­er. And now here we are- staring into e­ach other’s eyes- those dangerously sexy­ eyes… What is wrong with me? I actual­ly like it.

Its all my fault. I’m the one who create­d this monster. When I talked the little­ six year old into playing a game with d­addy and now fourteen years later she’s ­the one who does the convincing- little ­as it is.

I messed up. I messed her up. ­
That’s all I can think as we stand by t­he swing where she was born, where poor ­Sheila killed herself and where we are a­bout to say I do.

“Its where I feel closest to her, daddy.­” She says.

‘Pictory’ – A picture and a story speaking of and from each other.

Story – Wanjiku Mwawuganga

Picture – Kimani Wandaka

KIMANI WANDAKA – images with life.

PICTORY V.2 MONTHLY SPECIAL – OUT BEADING

The beads appeared on Ruth’s wrist a day before she passed on. Everyone, but the three of us, bawled their lungs out. We were old and being crushed by cancer. We were happy for her.

I saw Susanna wear them a week later. That night, Susanna too, went to be with the Lord. Nyambura was too impatient to wait the day out. She followed suit six hours after.

They moved me to the garden so I could be away from the empty beds. When my daughter came to visit later, I couldn’t hear a word of her chattering. I was concerned about what she had around her wrist.

“What beads mum? You know I don’t wear jewelry.”

My heart fell.

‘Pictory’ – A picture and a story speaking of and from each other.

Story – Ngartia

Picture – Kimani Wandaka

KIMANI WANDAKA – images with life.

PICTORY V.2 #20 – LADY INTERRUPTED

‘Sowing in the morning, sowing in the noontide, and the time of reaping…’ her voice trailed off in incoherent singing. ‘Bringing in the sheeves, bringing in the sheeves…’ her voice trailed off again.
She could never quite get the song. But she loved singing.
Especially at the farm. Kept her from getting cold.
She much preferred the traditional songs.

The way the drum beats dictated the movement of her hips.

The way her hips captivated him.

The way the words would catch the rhythm,

And his steps would match hers.

For a moment, it felt like they were in unison.

United in rhythm.

The rush of it!!

She breathed in deep, shook off the euphoria.

The grouchy farm manager was watching.

‘Pictory’ – A picture and a story speaking of and from each other.

Story – Njeri Macharia

Picture – Kimani Wandaka

KIMANI WANDAKA – images with life.

PICTORY V.2 #19 – LURKING

Can’t he feel me hanging on like a shadow, pausing at walls to see him walk just far enough to allow a steady stroll behind him. Can’t he hear me fantasize about him, just a few steps behind him?

Can’t he see me? Will he ever? Will he ever know that there’s a longing that burns me so, and watching him is the only way I can keep sane?

Surely, I can’t be the only being that feels a lurker on their trail. I’ve followed him around for so long, I think this is the day I jump into his body.

‘Pictory’ – A picture and a story speaking of and from each other.

Story – Vickie Zosi

Picture – Kimani Wandaka

KIMANI WANDAKA – images with life.

PICTORY V.2 #18 – SOLILOQUY OF A PISSED-OFF CAMEL

To pee, or not to pee. Okay, screw Hamlet; I mean, look at the size of this load, and I really need to get up and pee. Humans, they’re the most pissing-off-est people on earth, and in heaven. Who puts a camel on a beach! And puts this kind of load on the camel! What’s in the load anyway, a country?…

Oh here comes one of these trigger-happy photographers — those ones are the silliest: shooting at everything like it’s open season… Wait, okay, gotta strike that airhead Instagram pose… Shit, I hope I got this sillygirl-selfie pout right…‎ Shoot, bitch! I’m not going to stay like this forever; my bladder is pissed off to bursting!

‘Pictory’ – A picture and a story speaking of and from each other.

Story – Olubunmi Familoni

Picture – Kimani Wandaka

KIMANI WANDAKA – images with life.

PICTORY V.2 #17 – WE’RE A CRIME

I’m pregnant, Mum.

I know.

Then why haven’t you said anything?

I was waiting for you to open up about it.

Okay.

So who’s responsible?

I’m also getting married, Mum. End of month.

What? What’s the hurry?

We don’t want our baby to be illegitimate.

Who’s the man?

Ahm…you’ll attend the wedding, won’t you?

Of course baby, but who is…?

I’ll go try on my gown tomorrow, will you come with me?

Yes. Yes…

Cool…and you don’t mind giving me away on D-Day, do you?

Shouldn’t your Dad do that?

He would have, if he wasn’t my baby’s father too.
…
A week later, I found Mum sitting with her back against the swing, the same spot where she gave birth to me in 1990. Grandma said I came too fast. There was no time for hospital.
On her white skirt, Mum had scribbled, “Sorry I’ll miss your wedding baby”.

‘Pictory’ – A picture and a story speaking of and from each other.

Story – Harriet Anena

Picture – Kimani Wandaka

KIMANI WANDAKA – images with life.

PICTORY V.2 #16 – MEMORIES

Every year, Nancy visits her father’s old farm in Limuru. Each time, the same routine unfolds.

She will sleep fitfully at night, wake up because the sun will warm up her room and the thick curtains will trap the heat within the almost air-tight space. She will stroll through rows of green tea shrubs in her only pair of gumboots. Then she will have endless cups of tea on the floor of the kitchen verandah overlooking the tallest tree in the compound, where a piece of her came to rest alongside her father.

She will recall faint memories, nurse some guilt for things left unsaid and lay her head on an old sack lying in wait right next to her.

‘Pictory’ – A picture and a story speaking of and from each other.

Story – Sharon Ogugu

Picture – Kimani Wandaka

KIMANI WANDAKA – images with life.

#POTW SEQUEL WK3 #12B – 2 LOVE AND 2 HOLD

June 8th 2016. Wednesday. 7:30pm.
This one is called Cherry.
Light-skinned; a perfect figure eight with smoky eyes.
And clingy. Divorce talk is basically foreplay around here…

“So you won’t leave him?”

“Cherry baby, we’ve been over this I have… responsibilities. Let’s just live in the moment, okay? Come on, come to bed.”

“One minute…”

I spot that metallic glint in her hand before Selene does.

Sprint. Swinging door. Scuffle.

Knockout. Thud.

Stares.

We stand there, Selene and I, taking in the whole scene. Then we turn to each other.

Finally, as if reading from the same invisible script, we skip through all exposition and explanation and I inhale all of her as we move into a deep embrace.

‘Pictory’ – A picture and a story speaking of and from each other.

Original Pictory – PICTORY V.2 #12 – TO LOVE AND TO HOLD

Story – Patrick Kioko

Picture – Kimani Wandaka

KIMANI WANDAKA – images with life.

PICTORY V.2 #15 – THE TWENTIETH PIROUETTE

She never danced in a group. She has too much soul, they said. She filled the stage with the presence of twenty but only nine she was, in her mind.

The first said to close her eyes, the second, to be adventurous. The third memorized the steps and the fourth drew the stage; spectacular and way larger than her theatre’s truly was. The fifth created a spotlight and the sixth a full house. The seventh composed the melody, the eighth, an awestruck replica of her mother in the front row and the ninth created a step that never was.

And with her twentieth pirouette, her foot jammed between the metallic railings of the rooftop, did a 180, then made the deciding “Crack!”

Pictory’ – A picture and a story speaking of and from each other.

Story – Hellen Masido

Picture – Kimani Wandaka

KIMANI WANDAKA – images with life.

PICTORY V.2 #14 – EDEN

He comes here whenever he feels lost.

Without her he is feeling lost, so he will come here today.

He admires the charm with which the guarded breeze flows as he walks along the pathway. And then there are the fence posts erect as if on watch, protecting eden against the turmoil of loss.

This is where lost men meet, and he will meet one today like he always does, and the sunbeams defiant against losers will shine no light into their hearts, choosing instead to illuminate the concrete below.

He will come here again.

‘Pictory’ – A picture and a story speaking of and from each other.

Story – Mwangi Mureithi

Picture – Kimani Wandaka

KIMANI WANDAKA – images with life.

PICTORY V.2 #13 – MAY I KURT YOUR WINEHOUSE

I remember that night. My veins had yearned for you. I had fought to not have you. For the last ten years. I had held on like a leech to my faith. I had told my family I would be strong and I would never walk your dusty path again.

They cawed and mixed that with sarcastic laughter. Why could they not just let her grow? She was a bad seed. But what were they?
As they broke my defenses and each one made a new opening of my womb.

I screamed your name one last time. My heavily scarred hand dropped to my side.

Fate had spoken, from angel to dust I transformed.

‘Pictory’ – A picture and a story speaking of and from each other.

Story – Edwin ‘the divine bandit’ Mukabi

Picture – Kimani Wandaka

KIMANI WANDAKA – images with life.

PICTORY V.2 #12 – TO LOVE AND TO HOLD

December 2nd 2015. Wednesday. 6:14pm. I finish my Redbull and walk
towards the house.

Every Wednesday evening she goes to this house. She will then come home
from ‘her Church fellowship’, wrapped snuggly in a jubilant mood where she
will prepare my favorite meal and afterwards proceed to fuck me senseless.

I’ve followed her every Wednesday for the past three months, so I know what
they do. And like her, every Wednesday I go to my spot behind the window.
And every Wednesday I witness another woman pleasure the mother of my
children in ways I’ll never be able to.

‘Pictory’ – A picture and a story speaking of and from each other.

Story – Jonathan Paul

Picture – Kimani Wandaka

KIMANI WANDAKA – images with life.

PICTORY V.2 #11 – HER FIRST TIME

Angela couldn’t go to her three friends yet. They had all agreed to meet at their usual restaurant to celebrate their last day of primary school. How could she face them after today? Would they still want to play with her or would they treat her differently? Should she even tell them? She wondered if they would notice the difference when they looked at her. She also wondered how long she was going to hide behind the stone wall.

All that debris and moss was starting to gross her out. She was moody; her mum said she would be. With her mind made up, she took a deep breath and stepped out to join them.

Angela had started her period.

‘Pictory’ – A picture and a story speaking of and from each other.

Story – Zainab M. Adam

Picture – Kimani Wandaka

KIMANI WANDAKA – images with life.

#POTW SEQUEL WK2 #09B – FUCK IT! – THE SEQUEL

Fuck it!

So, wordpress.com decided to post for us PICTORY V.2 #09 – FUCK IT! a day early.

We all loved it. But wait. There’s a sequel in spirit of the post.

When I thought about the two of us I always imagined a less… ‘dramatic’ end. She had her drama… Lord knows she had her drama! But she also had a big ass… damn she had a big ass! And everyone knows I’m an ass kinda girl.

Fuck it! I should have kept it as a souvenir. Too late. Her body parts are probably already on the way to City Market. Why bury evidence when you can let the poor unsuspecting Nairobians eat it for supper?

Pictory’ – A picture and a story speaking of and from each other.

Story – Wanjiku Mwawuganga

Picture – Kimani Wandaka

KIMANI WANDAKA – images with life.

PICTORY V.2 #10 – REUNITED

Her mullato baby was back. Ten years and he seemed more American than the child she had put on a plane to meet his father. She had missed him dearly but now that he was here she didn’t know what to do with him. She was momentarily jealous of his father’s nationality. A 16 year old had semi-adult status there; here he was just a tall child. She suddenly felt robbed of her motherhood.

He hugged her for a long time at the airport and whispered “nimekumiss sana” without the hint of an accent. Her heart swelled, her baby was back. She thought of her dying bell pepper patch and felt a tinge of discontent. He had always loved “hoho.”

Pictory’ – A picture and a story speaking of and from each other.

Story – Ivy Mutisya

Picture – Kimani Wandaka

KIMANI WANDAKA – images with life.

PICTORY V.2 #09 – FUCK IT!

“Well, I guess am fucked,” she sighed as she backed away from the open bonnet of her car and sat on the curb. She lit a cigarette, and took a swig so deeply half of it was gone by the time she exhaled. “Fuck it! Fuck it! Fuck them all!” She had run away from that bitch as fast she could, only for the car to die on her barely 100 meters away.

That bitch! She had trusted her. She had given her her all. She had pled and begged and given everything but her organs. Fuck her! Fuck them all! This was shit! The car was shit! The cigarette was shit, she threw it away. Fuck it!

Pictory’ – A picture and a story speaking of and from each other.

Story – Kiruga ‘owaahh’ Morris

Picture – Kimani Wandaka

KIMANI WANDAKA – images with life.

PICTORY V.2 #08 – THE BLUFF

He looked out of the window, as the rain poured he sneered and remembered why he hated rain. It brought out the worst in people and exposed all the dirt the city seemed to be plagued with.

Hands shaking, he tried the number again; hoping and praying for an answer because he didn’t want to think he was too late. The call connected and a gruff voice on the other end warned him, “Don’t call this number again, we already dealt with her.”

As a tear dropped down his cheek, he tried to redial. He should have taken them seriously. She was probably bleeding out somewhere. He thought the blackmailers were bluffing.

Pictory’ – A picture and a story speaking of and from each other.

Story – Tanya Kiseke

Picture – Kimani Wandaka

KIMANI WANDAKA – images with life.

PICTORY V.2 #07 – KANYONI THE ORNITHOLOGIST

“I’m gonna run away someday, just wake up one day and leave” My cousin Kanyoni  used to say.
I’d lost count on how many times I scoffed upon those utterances. With time though, I realized that the more I scoffed, the more dedicated to his vision he became.

“Just look at those big birds of prey. How much freedom they have… To roam… Go wherever they want.”  Such were his words whenever we’d go to our favorite spot, with a good view of a city that had swallowed many a man.

Every Christmas, we still go to this spot that gave my cousin Kanyoni the inspiration to pursue ornithology. And to fly off the 30th floor in jobless desperation years later.

Pictory’ – A picture and a story speaking of and from each other.

Story – Allan Mwangi Melchowistz

Picture – Kimani Wandaka

KIMANI WANDAKA – images with life.

PICTORY V.2 #06 – THE DARK LIGHT

“Don’t leave me in here,” I begged.
“It’s for your-own-good… Sarah. Please, don’t make this harder than it already is.”

The words struggled to make their way out. Her body heaved and her shoulders shook. I could tell she needed me back but the dark light had called and claimed my mind.

“I’ll be back to see you tomorrow.” She muttered quickly racing to the door. Almost afraid that if she looked at me the dark light would claim her too.
“No you won’t.”

Color drained from her face and her arms went limp by her side, this was to be the same look as she watched me fall to my death ten floors later onto the parking lot.

‘Pictory’ – A picture and a story speaking of and from each other.

Story – Wanjiru Njoroge

Picture – Kimani Wandaka

KIMANI WANDAKA – images with life.

PICTORY V.2 #05 – THE MORNING AFTER

She looked sexy in his sweatshirt lying there. He couldn’t keep his eyes off her. His thoughts wandered to two years before, when they met.

The club was lit just enough for you to see your bottle and figures wobbling on the dance floor. He wasn’t much of a dancer but her gyrations had been enough to get him off the barstool. He’d taken ages, inching closer until that ass was in grabbing range.

That night is a blur, but they’d woken up together the next morning… And many mornings after. Today was different though. The blood on the sheets had already started to coagulate, but he couldn’t remember how the knife had ended up in her back.

Story – Sam Murimi

Picture – Kimani Wandaka

KIMANI WANDAKA – images with life.

PICTORY V.2 #04 – A LOVE LETTER

There you go again with the same tacky act you pull off every day. I will admit, the first time was a little spectacular, and so was the second… but really, after the 5 gazillionth time, it has lost its charm a little. You really should think about diversifying your repertoire. You may have them fooled so far, but eventually they will realise you are just a one trick pony. I mean with the prancing and the dramatic exit… Every time!

Let me offer you some advice. These days understated elegance is the way to get their attention. Just the other day they were out in the millions to catch a glimpse of my performance, so dahling I do know what I am talking about. You don’t want to get irrelevant now, do you?

Yours,

The moon.

P.S. Red really isn’t your colour.

Pictory’ – A picture and a story speaking of and from each other.

Story – Aleya Kassam

Picture – Kimani Wandaka

KIMANI WANDAKA – images with life.

PICTORY V.2 #03 – THE NUDE CALL

Years ago, before Meru town (Mutindwa) had shopping malls and traffic jams, it was the ultimate city experience for my people – especially those from remotest areas. Then, Face Me matatus had timetables and one of the biggest estates was Kooje, famous for insecurity.

Uncle Jeff; known for his pride, dark complexion, compelling physique and naughtiness, came to visit his big sister. He was adorned in his good looks, best clothes and shoes – always set aside for special occasions.

On the bushy pathways leading to Kooje, Uncle met more compelling residents. He was stripped naked in broad day light. But, in classic Meru kindness, they left him a five shilling coin to place a call at the estates payphone.

Pictory’ – A picture and a story speaking of and from each other.

Story – Aenid Kathambi

Picture – Kimani Wandaka

KIMANI WANDAKA – images with life.

CELEBRATING THE BEGINNING

SEEING THINGS THROUGH

Celebrating 2015.
My first year blogging.
Posted some material.
Worked a lot with Ngartia: truly a brilliant artist.
That Pictory concept: the amount of positive feedback, totally unbelievable.
I am grateful.
There’s a lot more coming your way next year, many more collaborations.

Hello 2016.
Welcome,
#PICTORY-VOL.2.

KIMANI WANDAKA – images with life.

ISABELLA – THE RHYTHM OF THE NIGHT

Full of life, beautiful and the human representation of freedom. I watch her do her morning stretches then start to move. That agile body, full of expression and passion. I can never get tired of watching her. Sometimes it’s as if she’s dancing to every tune I play on my 6-string.

I’m hit by visions of the previous night when she had to sneak out of her mother’s house to meet me. She had on the perfect dress that flew after her as we ran hand in hand into the streets.

We had been planning to go for that concert for months but I barely remember a thing that happened. I only remember her. Watching her, admiring how freely she moved. To her dance was a language she spoke fluently.

We didn’t want to leave even after the place was empty, may be because we were drunk and still topping up. We walked up to the stage and she told me her dreams. We talked for hours and then danced to the songs on our phones. Even when the rain fell we still kept on dancing. She was the better dancer but somehow she brought out a flexible and rhythmical side in me I never knew existed. It was simply magical. That is what every experience with her is; magical.

I’m so carried away by my fantasies, my song, my dreams that I don’t realize her standing at a distance watching me. I keep singing; singing to her. She won’t drop her gaze and I don’t want her to. This is the chance I have dreamt about for a long time. I want it to last forever but my song is only so long. Soon I begrudgingly hit the last note and my song is over. She doesn’t stop looking though and I’m sure she’ll say something but all she does is smile. I’m confused, shocked and all I can do is stare at her. By the time I compose myself enough to smile, she is already walking away. I’m not disappointed though, today she smiled at me, tomorrow… who knows what tomorrow holds.

For now all I can do is pack up my guitar and place it at the back of my wheelchair. I wheel myself away wondering what Isabella and I will get up to in my dreams today.

Story by Wanjiku Mwawuganga.

Inspired by the song Isabella by Sauti Sol.

Photo: Kimani Wandaka.

#REEL2015_CINEMATOGRAPHY

KIMANI WANDAKA – images with life.

PICTORY #10 – BLUE BALL

At the beginning, she had taken the black 8-ball and placed it on the counter.

“What game is this?”

“Ours.”

“Huh?”

“Whoever bags all their balls first wins. We don’t need the uncertainty of the last one.”

I shrugged and picked my cue-stick. The game was a bet; it would end up with sex. Or not.

She was a pro. By the time her last green positioned itself, in such a way that the slightest nudge from any side would hole it, I was sweating. I took my final one shot and held my breath as I watched my blue number 2  roll over slowly, almost leisurely, stopping at the edge. My girlfriend’s face fell.

I was screwed.

‘Pictory’ – A picture and a story speaking of and from each other.

Photography – Kimani Wandaka

Story – Ngartia

PICTORY #09 – FOLLOWING THE CURRENT

Years ago, before the new bridge was installed, the river flooded in the rainy season – freezing all activity that required accessing the other bank. The only form of crossing was a submerged log that would often disappear under the furious brown depths.

Only Kaimenyi dared to cross it.

He would swagger over, reeking of alcohol and glare with disgust at the helpless folks sitting on the banks then proceed to teeter, knee deep, over the log.

People did consider following him. They would have, had he not, in one of his countless crossings, slipped halfway through, balanced on one foot for an uncertain second, before plunging into the depths and going over the waterfall, all waving limbs and screams.

‘Pictory’ – A picture and a story speaking of and from each other.

Photography – Kimani Wandaka

Story – Ngartia

PICTORY #08 – LIKE SMOKE IN THE WIND

As he sat, he assured me that he was not a beggar.

“I thought I’d be alone.”

It was at the Nairobi Arboretum, I was waiting for a model. I shrugged and indulged him when he sparked a conversation.

He’d just returned from Israel where he’d allegedly met government officials and convinced them to stop the inhumane treatment of Palestine.

“Do you know why Mossad is so good?”

“No.”

“This.”

He lit up a blunt and went on to ask me if I knew the passage in the Bible about Jesus coming like a thief…

It was 15 minutes after he had excused himself to go meet emissaries from Syria that I noticed my bag, containing my laptop and camera, was also gone.

‘Pictory’ – A picture and a story speaking of and from each other.

Photography – Kimani Wandaka

Story – Ngartia

PICTORY #07 – RENOVATED HISTORY

We have been coming here, one day before our anniversary, for eight years. It’s simple and fun, part of small traditions we’ve formed to mark our milestones.

I take her into my arms, and then climb slowly, with her tickling me and joking about her weight. The staring strangers have never mattered. We sit at the top, stare at her wheelchair resting at the bottom, and reflect on our journey from the day I found her unable to access the second floor lecture hall and offered to help.

Today we came expecting the same, only to find that a swanky ramp has replaced the stairs.

‘Pictory’ – A picture and a story speaking of and from each other.

Photography – Kimani Wandaka

Story – Ngartia

PICTORY #05 – TWO FEET AWAY

The sound was an odd combination of thump and a chink – flesh giving way to the sharp steel and bone resisting. Over and over. It is the last memory I have of my uncle. When they were done with him, they dragged his wife from under the bed and pinned her on top of the table as she screamed for mercy in their own language… then for God to help her.

God was deaf on 20-January-2008.

I cried silently, curled inside the cupboard, hoping they wouldn’t burn the house after. Not knowing that the memory of two feet moving with thrusts and grunts would haunt me from that morning – choking me every time the word Mungiki got mentioned.

‘Pictory’ – A picture and a story speaking of and from each other.

Photography – Kimani Wandaka

Story – Ngartia

PICTORY #04 – BEAUTIFUL ENOUGH

“Calm down Wambui”

She repeated that to herself every minute of the 43 that he kept her waiting. The restaurant was open air – she had let him choose it, to make sure he was comfortable – but the sun on her skin didn’t help with the goose bumps and slight shivers that took over every time a man walked through the entrance.

Could that be him?

When the text came, she had been checking her make-up on her phone, wondering if she looked pretty enough for him to stay.

“I got held up. Can we do this some other time?”

Cold. Dry. Emotionless.

She remembered how her mother had wept as she burnt his pictures
20 years before and deleted his number.

‘Pictory’ – A picture and a story speaking of and from each other.

Photography – Kimani Wandaka

Story – Ngartia

PICTORY #03 – BUILDING RELATIONSHIPS

At 17, my daughter brought her boyfriend to the office – a lanky lad with scruffy hair, a tattoo peeping out of his tee’s sleeve and an air of delinquent adventure. He looked like a series of heartbreaks waiting to be activated.

His tea arrived before the water Naomi had gone to fetch me, but he was distracted by the bulldozers my drivers were parking outside the window.

“Do you like them?”

“I love them… Sir.” He replied.

I strode closer and sighed heavily.

“Imagine what one of those could do to the home of a young man who hurt your daughter.”

He stared on silently till his girlfriend came back 15 minutes later. Then they left – his tea still steaming untouched.

‘Pictory’ – A picture and a story speaking of and from each other.

Photography – Kimani Wandaka

Story – Ngartia

#02: HIGHWAY ENDINGS

Every time he takes a turn into this section of the highway, he remembers the look she gave him before saying, “You know, the first time I saw you, I thought you were the adventurous kind.”

It was just after he had coaxed her out of a club’s dance floor because he needed to sleep.

Minutes later, as they drove by PriceMinus” href=”#”> home, she had unzipped his pants, pulled his member out and tried to kill them both by putting it in her mouth. The shock made him pull over.

As he caught his breath, she straightened up, by PriceMinus” href=”#”> started reapplying her makeup and whispered, “You should have rolled the by PriceMinus” href=”#”> windows down and accelerated.”

She left him the next day.

‘Pictory’ – A picture and a story speaking of and from each other.

Photography – Kimani Wandaka

Story – Ngartia

#01: HONEYED MEMORIES

Those two months after dad’s second stroke paralyzed him, we’d sit him where he could see the farm, and then mum would feed him small spoonfuls of honey – the one thing he hadn’t lost a taste for.

Later on I would have to clean the floor because her hands kept shaking with emotion and leaving sticky droplets on the concrete as she updated him on the latest church gossip, family issues and neighbourhood news.

 

After he died, mum avoided that section of the house like it never existed, but, to this day, on random afternoons, I find the floor inexplicably sticky with honey drippings.

‘Pictory’ – A picture and a story speaking of and from each other.

Photography – Kimani Wandaka

Story – Ngartia

NURSERY – GRADUATION.

 

Green’s the way.

Plant a seedling.

Let it sprout.

It’s a great feeling,

But also speaks of what you’re about.

Green’s the way,

green everyday.

Kimani Wandaka.

 

LITTLE BIRD.

Little Bird | Big World

KICK ASS.

Wake up,
Eat up,
Clean feet,
Wear me,
Kick ass.

NAIROBI – INTO THE SKY.

Nairobi, her gaze gives me chills. I love my city. I look deeply at her and she stares defiantly back at me.

FEELING.

Valentine’s,

What a fine day for feeling.

There’s no greater love than the love of self.