Sandra’s Den

My website is almost done. Almost.  But I’m a very impatient soul, lol.  So while Timo is still dotting the i’s and crossing the t’s we can go in and have a look.


I am particularly looking forward to interacting with everybody at the forum – Sandra’s Den – the forum is truly the heart of the website, where you are welcome to post your thoughts, questions etc. I hope book lovers (clubs) will share with us about what they are reading.


Then there’s Sandra’s Zen – this is food for the heart, mind and soul; quotes, stories and ideas to move and inspire you for change.  Again everybody will be welcome to post and share inspiring pieces with others. A few friends have already posted a few pieces, some being their own work and others are pieces that have been written by others but have inspired them in one way or another.  Thank you so much Reuben, Emelda, Erika, Pamela, Timo and June for rolling the ball.


And if you would like to read some of my work, just click on Sandra’s Ten, where you can read some of my stories and my poems.  I have also given you a glimpse of what I am working on – Marrying a Chagga and Chagga’s First Time are two of the short stories that will be featured in my Chagga Series.


One of my favourite short stories that are featured in Sandra’s Ten is titled The Plate of Ugali.  A good friend, Al Kags read it at Nairobi Sunday Salon about a year ago and he tells me it brought the house down. 

My mama used to say a real African man doesn’t eat chips or pasta.  That’s food for a mzungu man who gets his nails manicured, face scrubbed and lips conditioned with lip balm.  A real African man eats ugali, my mama used to say.  With their calloused fingers with rough nails he would mould the stiff porridge into little balls, dunk each ball into a stew then dunk the stew covered ball into his mouth with chapped lips.

I would sit at the corner of the room watching his Adam’s apple bopping up and down as he swallowed a ball of ugali and meat stew.  His jaw always moving in super-human speed as he chewed, making the veins on his forehead pop out angrily.  … read more here

I wrote Forbidden Pleasure a while back, when I was trying to find my niche in the world of words.  I had realized that I could write and words seemed to follow me whenever I went – they still do – but I didn’t know what genre of writing was me.  To be honest I still don’t, lol.  I wonder if I should blame the little people in my head for this, lol.

The room was hot and noisy.  Smudged kohl rimmed women were leaning against the black walls of the bar waiting to snatch the single men who would walked in, their faces streaked with neon disco lights, the air was so dark that the tattered black leather booths seem to vanish, making the seated regulars seem to be floating in the heavy smell of alcohol, sweat, cheap perfume and cigarettes.

Slowly, it was getting overcrowded.  The bar was old, but somehow managed to pull a mean crowd.  At the far corner, he watched two middle-aged women were fighting over a man.  He laughed feeling sorry for the poor drunk who had made the mistake of trying to pick-up the Terrible Twins, as they were known.  An older woman in a colourful head wrap with a raspy voice sat on the old piano playing a jazz number.  He asked the bartender to re-fill his glass as his concentration shifted to the music, his body swaying to the rhythm of the song. … read more here.

A few years ago I went to Late Mama Makeba’s concert.  I noticed a young lady who just seemed to be lost and out of place.  She was seated alone.  For a while I wondered who she was.  I later got lost in Mama Makeba’s soothing music, flowing drinks and the company of good friends.  From table to table I moved saying hello to friends and mingling.  I went back to my table to get something only to notice that my handbag had grown legs.  It was gone!  I later came to learn that the lonely lady was a hooker.  After getting angry, ranting, screaming, cursing, pulling my hair and cursing Movenpick Hotel for their lousy security I finally calmed down I started wondering – I wondered what made her chose that route.  Lady Of The Night I and Lady Of The Night II were inspired by her.

Having lived in South Africa and loving my Southern Comfort, ‘babalas’ meaning drunken stupor, is one of my favourite Afrikaans words – that I still remember, lol, such I couldn’t help it but write a poem about The Babalas.  The character in the head my have little people in her head too, but I promise you the prose is not about me, lol.

Sandra’s Ten will be updated every so often.  Just register yourself to get e-mail updates and e-letters.  And if you would like to comment or review any of the writes in Sandra’s Ten, you are welcome to do so at the forum – Sandra’s Den.


There will be also updates of up coming events and readings.  As it is the Goethe Institut is organizing “Maneno Mengi – an evening of spoken words” on March 12, 2009.  Do pencil in this date, as you will kick yourself for missing it.


And lastly you can get information as to where you can get my book The Rhythm Of My Rhyme.  I must say, I never expected it would be welcomed this warmly.  To be honest I didn’t even know I was this good, lol.  I suppose, I should thank the seven little people in my head for being such wonderful muses, lol.  Maybe, but a bigger thank you is to all of you for your continuous support.  Aksanteni sana!!


I really look forward to reading from you.  Please do remember that by participating, you’re making this an actual community.


Karibuni sana and happy reading!





~ by saharasoulfood on March 2, 2009.

8 Responses to “Sandra’s Den”

  1. Just dropping by.Btw, you website have great content!

    Professionally Written And Inspirational Wedding Speeches And Toasts…

  2. Sandra you’re doing a great job, congrats

  3. Well…it’s been a long trip there and worth the wait!

  4. Thank you, Bwaya and Serina!!!

  5. Baada ya masiku mengi,
    Nimetembelea website yako, poa sana. just remembered something about goethe institute. As a kid, I saw exhibition by somebody called Kisunta, and then by Raza. There was one lovely old man there who gave me first pastels and charcoal. Cant forget. Anyway glad to see they are still supporting arts.

  6. Hello Sandra. It’s been a while, I trust you are well. I’m good. Tell me, who’s handling your poems book in Nairobi?. Just checked your Forbidden Pleasure and I’m loving it cause it’s like a direct take on my mind-set from back in the day. Wishing you well. Take care my friend.

  7. @Sulubu, about Forbidden pleasure, lol.
    In Nairobi – nobody yet. Hembu get on FB then we chat.
    Keep well.

  8. Mmh.Sandra uko juu,i like that story of Indian people,keep it up Mama you done a wonderful job.

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