All week, Pam had looked forward to Sunday. To be honest, it had been months. Months since her exam results had come out and she had had to pretend to not see the disappointment on her father’s face every time he looked at her, before he could catch himself and hide it. She had not attained the minimum grade to go to the university. Not even a technical institution for a vocational course. Nothing. All those years of schooling, the fees her father had paid through the nose term after term. Every time she was sent home for unpaid fees, he sacrificed a little more each day to put away enough to send her back. This education thing, they said it was the key to a brighter future. He believed them. They said one should educate girls as well as boys. So he gave a deaf ear to all marriage proposals for his daughters and took them all to school.
I recently received a request to be a speaker at an event that the Web Foundation, the Center for Global Development and Future Advocacy were hosting to discuss the implications of their recent work on the economic, social and political impacts of artificial intelligence in low/middle income countries. I wasn’t able to attend the event, held in London, in person but joined in via video conference and this was my little contribution: AI in low/middle income countries, the East African experience.
I am in a rush…
I’ve waited till the last minute, which seems to be my forte, to get to converting money.
Saturday afternoon. My cousin picks me up, he is heading to Westlands, has some afternoon plans I have planned to piggy-back on. We go via the Chiromo route and head to Westlands, cutting across Waiyaki Way at Kempinski. That back route to Westie which back in the day, pre-Kidero closing the roundabout at The Mall, you only ever saw when you were in a jav that was trying to evade traffic.