I stared at the guy in disbelief. Never had I heard such a thing before. Was he winding me up? “Hold on, did I hear you right? You’re saying I’m protected in some way?” “Yes, definitely.” he replied. “I was watching yesterday, as you walked around the hotel grounds. An aura appears to surround you.”

Even now, whenever a door slams, I jump, thinking … gunshot!? Every day I recall my ‘shopping experience’ at The Westgate Mall, in Nairobi, Kenya. I wonder when these startled jumps and crazy thoughts will go away. Time heals all they say.

Illustrious Wang’ombe stood on the roof of a clapped-out Toyota, hands cupped above eyebrows to shield his gaze from the scorching sun. In freshly laundered safari suit, he and his car presented a vision in white (embellished by brown rust spots).

On the coast of Kenya and deep inside the poorer end of Shanzu – an informal settlement - I was drawn to a cartoon-like, bright blue chicken, and the name Blue Kuku Café, which adorned one of the shop fronts. Knowing kuku was Kiswahili for chicken, and feeling peckish, I ventured inside.

Dust was coming back to earth as we scrambled out. A discord of voices in panic. People lurched from the smoking mess to hug each other; thanking The Almighty for the fortunate continuation of their lives. Upside-down, I struggled to release my seatbelt, then crawled through shattered glass, to safety, bleeding and in shock!