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The Story

Hunter and Gatherer is an endearing novel that fictionalises Kenyan politics. With its many deficient tragedies and comedies, Kenyan political reality has often seemed tailor-made for fictionalising. One sees a rich welter of issues and personalities that hover around our present-day national politics. Amid the drumbeats of a tumultuous election, the tale is emotionally filled with a neat mix of poignant family heartaches... two unshakable brothers competing for power with an enchanting and scheming woman in the mix. Recipes include dark demons that come back to haunt, and a dose of vendetta in a dramatic, vivid urban settings of a corrupted metropolis. Nairobi. This novel will sweep you away until the last page. Grab your copy!

Kassela Obange is an intelligent and ambitious marketing professional covertly orchestrating her destiny to success in advertising in the bustling business community of Upperhill, Nairobi. The millionaire tenderpreneur Rapudo Oremo wants to marry her. Her unwarrantable attraction to him presents her with the prospect for power and freedom her heart truly yearns for and she is thrown into the arena of absurdity. Rapudo has only one goal: to use politics for gain. He wants to expand his business and amass more millions even if he has to plot to unseat his older brother, the MP for Busa North Constituency, and take over the seat. He is vicious and overtly ambitious. He’s shrewd. He’s ruthless. He’s unscrupulous. He’s flamboyant. He surrounds himself with shady deal makers, power brokers, ruthless lawyers and goons from Katwikira in Kibira. Every political force in his path is turned into a surrogate for the motifs on the contemporary political scene. But this not any politics. This is Kenyan politics. It comes with furious vengeance and it is manned by greedy and corrupt players with cold-blooded underhand dealings. The game is played in a nefarious world. In a shrouded metropolis. In Nairobi City. The world of men.

Kassela finds herself in a spot. She must be Rapudo’s wife. He must marry her on her terms. Her evolution from an ordinary professional into a cold blooded political animal is not by chance but by circumstance. She is from Dandora in Nairobi’s Eastlands. She was born to struggle and use every opportunity that comes in her path. She finds herself ensnared in the dirty world of greed, power and politics as the maiden between two fighting brothers. But for her, it’s a massage. It’s chicken coming home to roost.

REVIEWS

   The plot is cunning and intricate, the atmosphere sustained and terrifying, the characterisation never falters.

GABRIEL DINDA, WRITERS GUILD-KENYA

Okang'a Ooko is Kenya's answer to Jeffrey archer.

MOSES KAJWANG, HOMA BAY SENATOR

In the end, there are two strands running through Rapudo's life that are utterly incompatible. On the one hand is Evalyne, a rare woman of Nairobi, a political animal with Nairobian integrity and intelligence, and his own undistinguished business acumen and political ambition, a combination to bring him power, success and obscurity; on the other his fame, wealth and reputation, a one-off political game that cannot be lost, and only Rapudo knows why. Then there's Kassela. She is ideal. She is the hunter.    

LAKE VICTORIA READERS GROUP, KENYA

Kassela Aluoch Obange

She is mysterious, tantalising, alluring, wanton. Deep within this desirable but strange woman burns the violent fires that can destroy a man. Her unwarrantable attraction to Rapudo presents her with the prospect for power and freedom her heart truly yearns for and she is thrown into the arena of absurdity. Rapudo must marry her on her terms.

Robert "Rapudo" Oremo

He is vicious and overtly ambitious. He’s shrewd. He’s ruthless. He’s unscrupulous. He’s flamboyant. He surrounds himself with shady deal makers, power brokers, ruthless lawyers and thugs from Katwikira in Kibira. Every political force in his path is turned into a surrogate for the motifs on the contemporary political scene.

CHAPTER EXCERPT

The predator

She lowered her fingers over the shard of sunlight on the keys of the shiny laptop on her desk and slowly exhaled. An ad was running on Windows Media Player, the slick come-on for the cancer campaign. The insincere and oily voice-over could be heard distinctly, but like all well-crafted propaganda, the message was carried in the visuals as well. The pitch began with a dramatic surge of captivating visuals, clever graphics, and a plethora of emotionally-charged icons. The screen was filled with a dense amalgamation of medical images that intensified the impact of the message, all of which coalesced into the client’s name and logo. When it ended, she pursed her lips, sat back and sighed with dejection. It’s not effective at all. Same old, same old. Does not promulgate messages of hope and renewal. To inspire herself, she clicked on Chrome, went to YouTube and funneled the energy of a live ohangla violin into a spirited sail through the office.

Upperhill seemed quiet. Perhaps a little too quiet. It was a strange day in the wet month in Nairobi City, one of those odd days when sunshine and warmth suddenly sprung up in the middle of the rainy days. The height of February was coming full strong in the early year’s majesties and mildly nonplused the pace of Upperhill, a pleasant part of the city on the edge of the hill where Kenya began—indeed an almost the well-preserved part of Old Nairobi. The upscale business district appeared as a fevered dream, consuming the benefits of unfettered capitalism. It was ever changing; growing and expanding. A secluded and tidy world with an invigorating ambience, its skyrocketing complexes, modernist behemoths and nondescript towers were the sanctuaries where business dreams and rituals were enacted in Eastern Africa.

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