One of my earliest memories of getting into big trouble with my mother was being caught peeping at what the person sitting next to me (mostly in public vehicles) was reading, which would mostly be a newspaper. She would pinch me hard and give strict orders, “Look in front!” Embarrassed; I would ask myself, “How could just stretching out my eye to read a catchy newspaper headline possibly be a bad thing and make me rude?” I was then just another curious child eager to read. Not too different from the adult I became, just that I now buy my own books, newspapers and magazines and happen to get really pissed off when a stranger sitting next to me in a public place brings their head so close to my bosom, in the name of co-reading my newspaper. I also never understand what makes guys (strangers) in the matatu keep…
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