CategoryShort Stories

THE DAB OF A LIFETIME

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In one of those high school days when we had sneaked out, I sat quietly at the counter, my lofty legs dangling towards the neatly tiled floor of the night club. It was happy hour, in the midst of the frenzy, music blaring, the girls screaming and dancing wildly, the haves and have nots, both whining their bottoms,wiggling their waists plunging into their own sexiness; the overwhelmed men...

She found herself alone with a dream!

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Nothing prepared her for this thoughts.. wishes… dreams.. none of that or anything. all she thought she knew, was about to come into reality. his gaze burnt right into her skin… her senses so heightened like a wolf on the full moon In the reflection of his eyes, was a little girl creeping out of her grown body. Emotions so intense, she could feel them growling out to her unwanted...

OPEN LETTER TO MY DEAR IN LAWS

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I greet you honourable elders in the name of our ancestors. I hope all is well. I received your letter rejecting my request to let me visit you officially seeking your daughter’s hand in marriage. I received it with great reservation and utter dismay for the lack of a better word. I find your reasons avarice, unjust and unfortunate. Quite rightly so, my family has nothing much to our name...

I am in love with Matilda

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I saw her look for solace in her lonely self; she had been sobbing for a while. Her pillow flooding in tears; the rage in her beautiful teary eyes was unmatched. She spoke with a soft devastated tone and so evident were rills of anguish through the venae cavae of her soft loving heart. She was now a shadow of the strong revered Matilda we had all known two decades ago since our early schooldays...

The summit that made me fearless

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When I signed up to attend the Fearless summit 2018 in Kenya, little did I know that I was setting out to one of the best trips in my life. I remember telling one of my friends that I will be in the streets of Nairobi taking selfies as the summit was going on. This lack of enthusiasm was not down to a careless feeling of self importance, but as a Muslim, attending a Christian based summit was the...

Tales4Good: All she needed was a mother

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She wails uncontrollably, her innocent tears unceasingly flood her napkin. I can imagine the image of her heartless mother right through her wet eyes. Don’t the echoes of these cries disrupt her sweet sleep? How could she abandon such a beauty of a princess? I hastily grab a feeding bottle and give her a soft embrace. She suddenly goes mute, smiles and waves the bottle away without a single...

The tales of a first time traveller

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Never before had I been an “international” tourist, let alone “uluslalarasi turist”. How I had earned this trip, is a story for another day. Today am telling you about the trip itself. The weeks leading up to  it had been busy and wearisome, what with trying to get a visa. Unlike the stress I would later learn to endure at the Ivory Tower during the pursuit of documents; this chase I had done...

When Your Baby Boy Goes Missing

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The morning was not any different at our home, in the hills of Nateete. The place is a panorama of rolling hills, gentle valleys, a few drying water streams. The roads that meander round through the meadows punctuate the beautiful landscape dotted little houses or baby houses as Kibubu, our house-help’s kid calls them. Our mysterious aunt, Zubedah, had arrived the day before amidst...

The Sweet Desires Of Forbidden Love

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It is universally known that decency and guilt are qualities wield by hearts of men with a modicum of faith. I am a vast reader but then perhaps I should account for my sleazy appearances with his wife. For whatever that doesn’t seem real to me, I task my soul testify that at its prime, I never paid attention or never was I ever interested. She looked gratified by my company or perhaps we...

She died for a love that never was

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Conventionally, every human is capable of even the worst of behavior; with or without recent experience of it. It’s almost like a natural inclination to vice and animosity. One that of course cannot be corrected even with a proper education. All that has to happen is them to be pushed hard enough to break. I stared at her, being consumed by the cold. Her fingers in one hand clenched and in...

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Contact the lead Editor, Kiberu Sharif by phone on +256 703 702 193 or by email address on sharif@talesfromkampala.com