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While traveling in New York recently, I visited Kenya mission to the UN to renew my  passport.

You see, this chic amenizoea tu sana.

Even without hard statistics it’s safe to say that a very significant percentage of Kenyans living in USA work in the healthcare industry.

Sometimes we put a lot of effort reading for a test; taking two days off our daily schedules and the professor brings a ten-question quiz on the basics you could have studied in less than an hour.

Njeri, an 8-year-old Kenyan-American girl from Acworth, Georgia and currently in 3rd Grade, recently won a children’s writing contest in the Cobb County school district.

“Who are you talking to?” She busted into the room unannounced. This was not to happen. Ever.

Whenever I call Kenya to talk to my mom, I have to make sure that I have enough time to talk.  The conversation usually starts with the normal pleasantries.

Walking into a group home and spending more than eighty hours working with developmentally disabled people and sometimes old men was not what I signed up for when I hopped into a plane to come to t

I visited Waterloo on the suburbs of Brussels where the most celebrated Western emperor Napoleon Bonaparte met his final defeat at the hands of the Seventh European coalition.

On July 30 this year, in Wiesenhugel, Germany, a Kenyan man, Nelson Njunge stabbed his wife, Belinda Njunge, a mom of two numerous times until she died.

 

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