Patriot's Diary # 10: It's not food, it's a ritual

After a long day of eating myself senseless and being absolutely clueless of

what to write, I realized that my pride and joy of Kenya was resting in my belly! Patriotism is a personal routine, a ritual if I may, that leads me to a shrine of edible delights; food.

In Kenya there is a meal for all occasions. You can go cultural, fast food, cultural fusion, snacks or street food. It’s in your face, at your disposal. But one thing that any visitor to this country will be exposed to is our undying love for our meat! (Right: Ugali & Nyamachoma)

If you are thinking of a party, hang out or just a trip out of town it has to start with Ugali na nyama choma (maize meal dish with barbequed beef) and then there’s the healthy helping of Kachumbari (mixture of finely diced onions, tomatoes, coriander and chili). Then there is mshikaki, beef skewers and for the beer lovers, Tusker Milele. As many say it’s the world’s best beer don’t be deceived by what you hear or see in the ads.

For a cultural meal, you are spoiled rotten. If you want something from the coastal area, you can eat anything from crocodile, octopus, sharks or any sea like delicacy.

But the highlight is Pilau, a rice meal made with various spices; cardamom, cumin, cloves, cinnamon and other amazing ingredients and at times some people mix the Pilau with, yes you guessed it, meat. Oh! And the Biryani; another rice based meal which is a palate seducing mixture of spices and meat of your choice though prepared differently from Pilau. You will notice that a lot of coastal food has a lot of Arabic influence, but either way, it’s deliciously Kenyan. (Right: Pilau)

Central Kenya is the home of mash up heaven from Githeri; a mixture of maize, beans, potatoes and carrots, Mukimo; mashed potatoes and maize(corn) mixed with pumpkin leaves for the perfect finish, mutura (roasted and stuffed intestine) the Kenyan kebab; it sounds gross but it is delicious with some salt and Kachumbari, it goes down so well.

Western Kenya is home of fish and chicken, not just any chicken but what my friends and I call roadrunner. It is the typical domestically reared chicken, which is normally pretty tough so you need to tenderize it first, but it is delicious. Then there’s fish. I was told growing up that if I ate the fish brain (never seen it all these years) I’d be very smart. Still waiting…to see the fish brain that is. The next time you’re in Western Kenya, make sure you grab some fresh deep fried tilapia with ugali and sukuma wiki (maize meal dish and khales) and eat it by the lake side….to die for!

Northern Kenya, you’ll also be exposed to some great delicacies of fish. Travel around with the nomads and have a gulp of camel milk, or a ‘milkshake’ of blood and milk common amongst nomadic Kenyan communities, or better still try chasing the game for a fresh meal of , yep, you guessed it, roast meat!

There is one household delicacy that Kenyans give credit to our Indian community for and that is the Chapati. It is a ‘Kenyanized’ version of the Indian Nan. The Chapati can be eaten with anything from tea, green grams, chicken, kales, beef, you name it. If you visit down town eating places (better known as vibandas) you’ll get Chapati madondo, which is just Chapati and beans, which will have you singing to the roof with delight!

There’s so much more, from millet porridge, traditional milk like mursik (fermented milk mixed with charcoal), sweet potatoes, and arrow roots. Cultural vegetables like managu, mto, murenda and osuga are a favourite at cultural resturants. Snack heaven delicacies like samosas (deep fried dough pockets filled with any thing from meat, veggies to green grams), mahamri, mandazi, these are all deep fried pastries, njugu karanga (groundnuts) you name it.

The list doesn’t end, try street food, where you can get anything from a regular fruit or a peeled and sliced pineapple, sliced water melons, peeled mangoes on the go, sliced and diced sugar cane, to refresh you on a hot day or just try out some roasted or boiled maize or hey, maybe a boiled egg (fondly called Boiro) with Kachumbari.

Then there’s fast food. The one word synonymous with Kenyan fast food, and I know my country men agree, Kenchic. It is chicken with a crispy and juicy halo. You can get it at supermarkets but the place to soak your gab with Kenchic Chicken’s finesse is at the fast food outlets. The Kenchic slogan says, for those who are kuku about chicken.

Believe me, it is angelically tender, every bite, warms your mouth, and tickles your teeth as it slides to the back of your throat. It leaves your cheeks and chin shiny and soaking up the taste. It’s almost like an out of body experience. Divine is the only English word that comes close to describing it. Oh! Wow! I think it’s time for some Kenchic. You have not had Nairobi fast food until you have had Kenchic chicken. (Left: Kenchic Chicken)

Well as I head out to Kenchic it’s pretty clear, the list of Kenyan delicacies is endless. Whether you want to eat healthy, spoil yourself with street food or just choke your arteries with cholesterol. It’s all here in my home, Kenya.

Patriot's Diary # 9: The little things that count

With every waking day, life is full of uncertainty. I am grateful that there is order in Kenya. Hear me out first before you shoot me. I can wake up in the morning and go about my business without worrying about being clubbed to death at my door step, or hijacked on my way to work. My point is; I have freedom. I am not walking around in fear of an invasion or bomb attack. I am free, I am living and I am alive. That is something that I can celebrate each and every day.

It’s what I can call the small victories in life that we never stop to celebrate, true, not everything is a bed of Roses but by appreciating the fact that you can exist in the first place is worth popping a champagne bottle. It’s from celebrating being alive each day and being free to do so, that you open up to other things.

I had an interesting experience this morning on my way to work. I was in a matatu (minibus) and they wanted to avoid the cops for one reason or another. I refused to alight and requested that all the passengers get a reimbursement, the driver refused and started rambling on. I cut him short and told him in Kiswahili, Nikuheshimiana (Let’s respect one another here), he cut me short before I finished my statement responding, Mimi usiniheshimu (Do not respect me).

I was really shocked. In my lifetime I have never heard someone ardently demand for NO respect. Then he went on to defend his stand saying that he was a meager matatu (minibus) driver. I tapped his shoulder and told him that he is a human being and a driver doing his job and for that reason I respect him and that he should see it as something good. He then proceeded to drop us at the designated stage.

Just looking back at that situation, I realize the importance of being able to appreciate respect and the need to give it to others. I am grateful that I am in a country that actually does have people who appreciate the little wins and share it with others. It doesn’t have to be someone iconic, just the average person on the street who will holds a blind persons hand to help them cross the street, or the motorist who opts to give way when there is a clog up in a T-junction.

It’s the little Acts of Random Kindness (ARK) that is what keeps me going and I believe is what other Kenyans so desperately need. I am glad that there are Kenyans, who strive to make others happy, respect them and are willing to compromise for the comfort of others. What I love about performing acts of random kindness is that it’s not just the recipient who feels good about themselves, you also feel good about yourself. That is the country that I live in and I am proud to be part of; the ‘little’ people who make the little differences in this great land.

Patriot's Diary # 8: My Country, My inheritance

It’s been quite sometime, just thinking honestly and genuinely as to why I adore my country. I was reading an American bloggers entry who was talking about his love for his country. Most of what he said left me thinking, big deal. Then I thought to myself, my country is my inheritance. It is the one thing that no one has the right or ability to take away from me. Why you ask? Because of the memories and the sentimental value attached to my experiences in Kenya; good and bad. I can choose to inherit the bad or the good. (Right: Central Park in Nairobi's CBD)

The pages of your life’s story have been drafted in this country. Even if you haven’t been here all your life, there is always something that happened, was said, you witnessed or just made you tear in laughter that pieces the story of your life together.

Life is made of memories; where else would you like those memories to be made than in Kenya. No one can take away the love, hate, vulnerability, humor, stupidity that you have experienced. It is the richness of these thoughts and the entitlement to the moment and location of their occurrences that make this country your prized possession.

There is a place that I will never forget. I was once really depressed and had absolutely no clue who to talk to and what to say, I remember going to Central Park in the heart of the central Business District of Nairobi and crying. I remember it had rained the night before and I had carried a book with me , which I never did read.

It was a chilly morning, the air was crisp and every breath of it made me feel that everything was going to be ok. I sat on the damp concrete bench and watched droves of people walk through the park hand-in-hand. Children laughing and screaming but some how I seemed drowned by my thoughts of misery. I watched people take an occasional stop to take pictures. In my self absorbed state, I began noticing that there was a lot of red around me.

Women adorned in red dresses, men carrying red roses and walking around with the typical cheesy cards with love hearts. All I remember thinking was what all the fuss was about. It was then that I came too from the trance of misery, and realised I was in a hot spot for couples on Valentines Day! All I thought was here we go again. I chose to sit around and watch the couples for comical relief, which did fulfill my expectations. What started out as a place to cry, turned into a therapeutic experience for me.

I laughed at the scenery, the shady poses and in my head I imagined what the couples were saying to each other. I created characters for each of them, allocating a certain voice from their appearance and body language.

Thinking about it now, makes me laugh, I can see and hear the characters speak. It was comically similar to a smash of Latino telenovas and Nollywood drama. No other place can offer me a memory such as that and it’s for that reason that I treasure Central park, it’s Nairobi’s sweet Haven. It’s this memory among many that keep me going, it’s what makes life more intriguing.

My memories are my inheritance and for that reason, the land in which these memories are made, to me, is an heirloom worth treasuring.

(Left: Nyayo monument in Central Park)

Patriot's Diary # 7 : Colour's in the Traffic

I can choose to pick out all that is wrong in the Kenyan transport system but I won’t. All I’ll say is that there is room for improvement.

I was in a Bus on Sunday and I was taken by the conductor, he was polite and helped people out of the Bus. I can remember he helped a couple with one of their children; he carried the child from the back of the Bus all the way to the Bus stop outside. Even in asking for fare he was not abrasive. He seemed to provide sanity in the speeding Bus, it was reassuring considering I was really tired and fed up.

I am grateful that I have a Bus or Matatu (minibus) that I can use to commute to various corners of my city and country. Watching Africa Journal and seeing what other people on this continent have to face with limited public transportation yanks at my heart strings, but at the same time helps me appreciate what I have.

I have the privilege of being able to wake up in the morning and choose to travel up country a 500km drive without having to wait days for the next Bus. I know some of my fellow citizens experience that and like I said; there is room for improvement, but I am still grateful that I have the luxury.

Public transportation in Kenya is privately owned, but even though it is an entrepreneurial tool that does need regulation, it provides the average person on the street the ability to move around, carry their wares to sell, help those with huge sums of cash hidden in their socks get to the bank safe and sound. It enables schools the ability to take students for field trips. The system that we have makes it possible for me to get to work in the morning and home in the evening. It’s what makes boarding school bearable for high school students, knowing that outside that school gate they will be able to go home to the loving family and hot meals, when schools close.

Public transportation, as a writer is the basis of my stories. From the annoyed and rabid passenger next to me who doesn’t want to part with a cent. The exhausted driver who has to meet ridiculous sales targets who illegally maneuvers traffic. The conductors encounters with the law. The teenager who’s experiencing commuting for the first time in their life, the drunk who seems to think the seats are a couch, the fruit and vegetable vendor who is on the road at 4am every morning to get their fresh wares, the live chicken, to the kind of music they blast through the speakers and the favourite radio station the driver tune to. There’s so much you can learn and hear from in a matatu (minibus).

Public transportation in Kenya is a tale; it’s a play that unveils new characters with each act and scene as passengers board and alight. I can guarantee you that anyone who has encountered a matatu (minibus), has a tale to tell, good or bad. The jokes the tears, the abuse, human beings are the most fascinating and impossible creations on the face of the earth. Not only are Matatu (minibus) and Buses a never ending play they are a proof of a vibrant pop culture especially in major cities.

The bodies emblazoned with celebrity faces, mostly American artistes, East African Artistes whose music blast through Matatu (minibus) speakers almost as if declaring their rule over the hearts of the populace. The political figures, the late President John Garang, President Obama (this is Kenya remember), Paul Kagame, Kofi Annan and even Osama Bin Laden believe it or not.

The flags and iconic British premier league teams, proof that this is a Football nation, faces of their favorite national and international players; it’s a craze, it’s a colourful scene. I believe that is proof enough that in all the gloom and doom we choose to see in this country, colour is right before us each dawning day as we board into the Bus or matatu (minibus).

Patriot's Diary # 6: The Power of an Individual

I believe in the power of an individual.; I have always said this to my friends or in discussions, just that I feel I am yet to live up to this. History has shown us over and over again the power of an individual, we saw the evil in the likes of Hitler, Mao Tse Tung, Idi Amin and Stalin. But the power that I choose to focus on is not just religious with the works and influence of Jesus Christ, Prophet Muhammad and Buddha.

But look at the social greats, Albert Einstein, Mother Theresa, Michael Jackson, Waangari Maathai, Martin Luther King Jr. and so many more. Individuals who felt from the depth of their bellies the power and need to sacrifice themselves and their comforts for the overall benefit of the masses.

Now you must be wondering what I am getting at here. What’s the connection with patriotism and why I love my country? Well back to the definition that I gave of what Patriotism is to be the love and willingness to sacrifice ourselves for the good of the country. These world greats weren’t just patriots of their respective states, they were global patriots.

I live in a country that was born from the sacrifice of individuals, to lead us into independence. There has been turmoil, but we still have the likes of John Githongo the anti-corruption czar who revealed government embezzlement in the infamous Anglo leasing scandal, and Wangari Maathai, the Chair and Founder of the Green Belt movement and the 2004 winner of the Nobel Peace Prize. (Below centre: John Githongo)The person I want to focus on is Wangari Maathai, who fought to save the Karura forest, a key water catchment area. She fought to save Uhuru Park, a beautifully manicured recreational area in the heart of Nairobi’s central business district. I was walking through the park this past Saturday and all I saw was tranquility, joy, celebration and hope. It was re-assuring.

I haven’t been there in seven years. It was beautiful, there are swings now and slides and jungle gyms. Watching children playing, screaming and having fun and the freedom to run around freely, couples picnicking; it was magical. In a blood thirsty concrete capitalist jungle that we live in Uhuru Park is a haven.

Because of the conviction and sacrifice of one woman for the sake of others, Wangari Maathai faced verbal abuse, public embarrassment, belittling and torture with other individuals , had her braids ripped from her scalp and bled all for the sake of the environment.

I salute Wangari Maathai, and it is from her efforts that able to escape to a beautiful green corner in the city to relax and let loose after a long week. That’s what Kenya has offered me; the chance to learn and be a beneficiary of selflessness. When I choose to stand for what I believe is right, noble and true, it may be an uncomfortable journey, but will yield a beautiful reality for my fellow countrymen. I thank God for Wangari Maathai and I am grateful that she is a true Kenyan patriot who is an inspiration and an example I can emulate. God, I love this country!

(Right: Wangari Maathai receiving the Nobel Peace prize)

Patriot's Diary # 5: A salute to the citizenry!

The Kenyan flag; what a beaut! I look around at other national flags, some I find cool and outstanding, but there’s something about our flag. First the colour combination, red, black, green and white the right shades of each. Then there is the Maasai shield with the two white spears. The flag in itself is sovereignty.

There is the symbolism of every element of the flag, the green symbolizing the country’s natural wealth, the red for the blood shed to deliver this country from colonial affliction, the white a sign of peace and the black, the colour of the majority of the nation. The Maasai shield and spear represent the defense of all of the forementioned.

I can’t really explain it, but there is a purity and pride in knowing that you are associated with it. I know in my earlier postings I made fun of it but the truth is the athletic and social milestones that have seen that flag raised and brought us back from the brink, gives me great joy.

The athletes in championships breaking world records, the national sports teams; boxers, swimmers, football teams, rugby teams, all singing along to the words of the National Anthem as the flag is hoisted, or before a match begins, Wangari Maathai receiving the Noble peace prize, amazing! It’s as if every time the flag is hoisted it’s a salute to the citizens for keeping the great work up. I guess that’s what it is; the Kenyan flag like every national flag is a salute to its citizenry.

The flag is also a sign of the communion of countrymen and women; this makes more sense when it is tied in with our National Anthem which is unique in that, it is a prayer. This is the Kiswahili and English version of the first stanza of the National Anthem.

Ee mungu Nguvu Yetu
Ilete Baraka kwetu
Haki iwe Ngao na Mlinzi
Natukae na uhuru
Amani na Undugu
Raha tupate na Ustawi

Oh! God of all creation
Bless this our land and nation
Justice be our shield and defender
May we dwell in Unity
Peace and liberty
Plenty be found within our borders.

The beauty of it is, even if you are conscious of it or not, with every word you utter of the National Anthem, it is a prayer of hope and thanksgiving. I am grateful to the writers of it because it is clear that thought and heart was put into it. It’s the soul, prayer and pleas for this beautiful land to live and grow in love and prosperity. That’s what makes my country so wonderful. When all is said and done, we are a Nation established on hope. Now that’s reason enough to adore and sacrifice for this country; Kenya.

Patriot's Diary # 4: We are family!

What do I love about my country Kenya that makes me a patriot! Well this is harder than I thought. I guess I love it because it is like family. If you ever lived abroad you’ll always feel drawn back home normally because of your own family, but there is a nice feeling being able to walk on the streets of Nairobi and bump into someone you know.

Especially if you attended public school like I did, there’s always that familiar face that you see on the street and all you can say to yourself or to the ‘random’ person you stop on the street; ‘I think I know you from somewhere’ and be able to name schools and other institutions that are not alien to them. After all you are one in a sense. You are Kenyan.

In the world we live in we will always echo, familiarity breeds contempt’ yes, there is some truth to it. But it’s nice to be known and know people. Traveling abroad at a later stage in your life, there is almost a surety that the friends you make in unknown nations are there for convenience; get by while you live there. Don’t get me wrong you can still make friends in foreign lands and nurture your friendships, but there’s nothing like being at home. Well at least to me there isn’t.

The relatives we love to duck and run from on the streets, the ones who yell your name from over 200 metres away, it shouldn’t bother you; it’s the pride of knowing you; even when it means jeopardizing or even embarrassing you in front of your date.

Walking around in my rural home is proof of the love that really exists. Absolute strangers, with no relations whatsoever are always willing to greet you. And some who may recognize you from your tell -tale facial features will ask you how your parents of grandparent are. And will whole and open heartedly invite you to their homes for a meal or a cup of tea. I admire that, and it is something that I fear is dying out.

I can remember as a child, actually even now up until this point, I hated the constant ,’do you know who I am’ question by supposed clansmen who believe that we are family. Looking at it now, I guess this has made me appreciate something that we are loosing; knowing our family lineage and kingship ties. Family is where the heart is they say. Where is my heart today? My heart yearns to know and grow to understand the ties that bind me, my forefathers and their forefathers. I pleasure in enjoying a luxury that others lack; a chance to visit and meet and sit in the presence of the bearers of my heritage history.

Listening to the feats of my great grandmother and great grandfather who fought in the First World War for the British, his several heads of cattle, a dog he loved and saved him from a leopard. My grandmother the great cook, nurturer and amazing business woman who loved and cared for her grandchildren. There really is so much I take for granted, the fact that I have the privilege of being able to visit with most of my family in the same borders, not divided by a fence or wall. I am blessed and privileged and for that case truly my home and heart are in the same place. A place that I love and that is Kenya; my home and my family!