Dennis Kioko

Based on a story so true you wouldn't need a confession.  I poured the whole bowl of beans in the toilet bowl, and flushed. It didn't matter that I had just bought them, or that I had a habit of hardly throwing food away, not when people are dying for hunger. This time though, the cook had gone quite far on the often trodden path of horrific tasting food. The smell too was that of boiling beans, a smell which bears a similarity to that of raw fish when it comes to working up your appetite of the finished meal. I couldn't believe I had been a loyal customer paying for such badly made food *** The aroma of my colleague's food wafted across the desk. Despite the growing hunger pangs, my ego would not allow me to borrow even the tiniest morsel. After all, haven't I been the one who has reinforced the habit of not offering anyone my almost-daily packed  breakfast, or the occasional packed lunch. My argument has been that lunch, and breakfast, occur on a daily b

Well, not only their fathers. Their banks might also be left with some explanation in case one turned up as the other.  I met some acquaintance the other day. They are some manager in one of the top five banks in Kenya. They also happened to mention to me how lots of bank fraud in the country takes place. As usual, it is an insider job - not surprising seeing that many crimes usually involve insiders, plus crime seems to be quite a widespread problem in Kenya, including the less mentioned but high occurrence blue collar crime. What happens in bank fraud is that bank staff identify a number of potential target accounts. Such accounts will normally have more than KSh. 100,000 in deposits. They then print a statement of the account, the owners photo and the owner's signature. The then go to cartels who they work with, and issue them the three items - statement, photo and signature. The cartel then looks amongst themselves, of also amongst people, for a person who somehow res