Up NEPA!’ squeaked Emma, the one-year old son of the couple occupying my parents’ boys’ quarters excited the lights had come back on again. He, my mum and I were seated on the veranda, relishing the soothing Oguta breeze, the sun sinking steadily into its cloudy hideaway. If we were lucky, unadulterated silence would accompany the stars rather than the discordant sounds of groaning generators. But each one of us knew not to hold on to that hope because at various points in our lives...
