As a curious bystander, I have always been interested in the loopholes inherent in global capitalism. With all the burgeoning growth in the global economy, one has to be willfully blind not to notice the growing inequality and imbalance in the world today.
By the time I read this, Jurgen Klopp had not yet won the most coveted title that Liverpudlians have been longing for the past twenty years nor had they Champions League final been played but his status as a rock and roll manager had been solidified at the legendary club following his arrival in 2015.
This a strangely beautiful book. Genre-defying gem of fiction. The only way one can describe this book is to say that it is the jazz version of Nick Hornby’s Fever Pitch. It is a beautiful gem.
Let me get a confession out of the way, fast; I was hesitant to buy this book. The surname of the author makes me uncomfortable.
This is a strangely good book. I can’t describe it any better than that. It has very little to do with the death of the politician called Rex Nhongo.
The thing about rereading old books is that it can be very nostalgic in a big way. Rereading this one made me very nostalgic of my early teenage years. Anyone who attended any of the Unity Schools in the mid to late eighties would surely remember this one.
A few years ago, I caught a Cyprian Ekwensi bug and bought quite a few of his books. This one was highly rated, and I really looked forward to it. Unfortunately, I found it a very flat book and all over the place.
Twelve men hurried into a meeting at 2 George Yard in London on May 22, 1787. It was a seemingly ordinary day that altered the booming but dehumanising trade of humans in the British empire.
Six of the most powerful men in English football sat down for launch at a restaurant in the South Bank of the Thames one afternoon in November 1990. The product of that shared meal is the English Premier League.