The writer Ngũgĩ wa Thiong’o served his time not under British rule, but in the new, magnificent and independent Kenya. Because it sometimes turns out that one of the legacies of colonialism can be corrupt and broken elites – and Ngũgĩ waged war on them with his pen.

When the distinguished guests of the Norfolk Hotel, quaffing champagne, fired from the windows at a crowd of protesting Kenyans, there was darkness on the other side of the road. Perhaps by firing at people, they fancied that they were honing their hunting skills, or perhaps, quite simply, they were killing time on a boring afternoon. That was Nairobi in spring 1922. There was no theatre yet opposite the hotel. The theatre was built 40 years later, the year before Kenya won its fight for independence. But a further four decades were to pass before the National Theatre in Nairobi became accessible to all: “A home for our common Kenyan dreams,” as Ngũgĩ wa Thiong’o, once known as James Ngugi, wrote.

The words of this great writer adorn the menu of the Igiza Lounge, the club-café on the first floor of the theatre, popular among young Kenyan artists. Alongside the quotation, there are two