In the dark, the air conditioner switches on, vibrating mercilessly in the wall. Barummmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.

The cool air meanders around the room and the mozzy net sways ever so slightly. I stretch on the bed and feel for gaps, nervously squishing the edges of the net further into the gap between the mattress and the bed frame.

I have awkwardly laid myself out diagonally – the beds of Luther House are not built for men of my height, at least not with the mozzy net stretched taut at funny angles.


The noise of the air conditioner intersects with the whum whum whum of the fan above me, swiping at the dark, sprinkling a meagre portion of the chilled air down on to me. It sways this way and that, threatening to come crashing down through the net. 

Ummmmmmmmmmmmmmm* – click.

The air conditioner, satisfied for the moment, turns off. I pull out one of my ear plugs and listen to the odd sound from Kivukoni Road. The occasional honk of a taxi, or the caw of the crows which tend to gather in the trees surrounding Luther House. I listen and go to sleep.