This ‘resource curse’ befell Kenya even before really the resource could become profitable. It became a tool to barter with, create political goodwill, cement alliances, consolidate power and (as is custom) share the wealth with those whose turn to eat had arrived.
If we were being honest the original title of this attempt-at-an-essay was: A Growing List of Words I Hate. But then I caught myself. Barely. And here we are, with a different title so if anyone asks I can claim I was objective.
To become and remain a woman commands the existence and employment of genius.
We are a wonder, an unprecedented miracle, and we will live through our little deaths.
Hope is also an act of defiance. Perhaps our only true meaningful rebellion.