MERU DAILY

An illustration of Felix Kinyua's Memoir back page. Illustrated by Felix Kinyua .  This is a continuing series drawn from Roads Less Travelled: A Street Kid’s Memoir by Felix Kinyua. Each installment shares an unedited extract  from the book, offering readers an honest window into a childhood shaped by the streets—and the fragile moments of kindness that made survival possible. Below is a direct, unchanged extract from Chapter Four. Extract from Chapter Four > As the sun begrudgingly rose over the streets of Meru town, I stumbled my way through the aftermath of the previous day's trials, my face bearing the fresh reminders of my misadventures. I sought refuge on a nearby empty veranda, my body aching, and I nestled into a corner like a battle-worn warrior seeking respite. Exhaustion engulfed me, and I drifted into a deep slumber, as if the weight of the world had been lifted from my shoulders. In that elusive realm of dreams, even the scars and pain dared not intrude, or pe...

Front Cover Page of Felix Kinyua's Memoir, Now available at Ksh. 350. Image/Felix Kinyua.  Some stories are lived before they are written. Others are written so they are never forgotten. Roads Less Travelled: A Street Kid’s Memoir by Felix Kinyua is a deeply personal account of childhood shaped by poverty, hunger, and abandonment—and the quiet strength that emerges from surviving it. Below is an unchanged extract from Chapter One , offering readers a glimpse into the world this memoir reveals. Extract from Chapter One By the tender age of three, I was well-acquainted with the gnawing pangs of an empty stomach, a rite of passage in our grand saga of struggle. Our main culinary masterpiece was the art of surviving a few days on nothing but sheer willpower. My grandmother and I ventured into the world of casual Labor, navigating the perilous landscape of sporadic job opportunities on nearby farms. These jobs, like the fabled pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, were elusive, deman...

Apostle Dennis Murimi (with a cap) is joined by a fan as he tries an 80-hour tree-hugging challenge to raise Cancer Awareness in Meru. Photo/Felix Kinyua.  Late last year, a 22-year-old environmental conservationist, Truphena Muthoni , reminded the world that trees need love too — and not just the occasional glance. She hugged a tree for 72 straight hours, earning herself a Guinness World Record and a stiff neck, all in the name of indigenous tree preservation. Inspired by this leafy legacy, the “ hugging movement” has officially landed closer to home — right in the heart of Meru Makutano . Enter Apostle Dennis Murimi , affectionately known by supporters as the man of the cloak , who has decided that if trees could speak, they would probably say: “ Thank you for noticing cancer too.” Apostle Murimi has embarked on an 80-hour tree-hugging challenge, not for records or bragging rights, but to raise cancer awareness — a cause that urgently needs more than thoughts and prayers. And ...

DJ Astroid’s Friends Pay last respect at his home in Naari Village, Buuri Sub-County, Meru. Photo/Felix Kinyua.   There is pain in death. That is unavoidable. But when a young person dies, the pain doesn’t just hurt—it lingers, interrogates you, and refuses to make sense. This is the story of Vincent Nyaga Nthiga, popularly known as DJ Astroid – The Hype Kid. A story so heartbreaking, so poorly handled, and so suspiciously delayed that it feels less like a tragedy and more like a case study in justice postponed indefinitely. I first met Astroid back in campus. As a certified ravehead, our paths were destined to cross. Astroid quickly became more than just a DJ I admired—he was a friend. Friendly, humble, full of life, and notably, a man with zero tolerance for violence. Which is why the news of his death didn’t just shock us; it confused us. Now, let’s be clear. If this had been a natural death, grief would have been enough. Painful, yes—but understandable. But no. Astroid was brut...

Kenyans Celebrate New Year at an entertainment joint.  Photo Curtesy/ Standard Media. Happy New Year to you, my esteemed readers. Before we go any further, allow me to issue a public service announcement: if you have New Year resolutions, kindly keep them to yourself. Experience has shown that the moment you announce them, the universe cancels them with immediate effect. Now that we are clear on that, let me do what I came here to do—tell you sweet nothing stories. After all, that is my ministry, and 2026 is no exception. On the eve of ushering in the new year, I accepted an invitation to what is now officially my soon-to-be favourite joint: Aquadel Carwash and Auto Spa. And in the immortal words and tone of King’ang’i the radio presenter, let me tell you Maina—it was fireworks. Literally. Let’s start from the beginning. On 31st December, the very last day of the year, my friend and sometimes boss (depending on the mood), Mr. Bloko, found me minding my own business at my humble chi...