I am an epicure. I love and enjoy good food.I like to delve into tonnes and tonnes of nyama choma (barbecue) with kachumbari ( salad). I like it hot, not the indian definition of hot but definitely there has to be pepper.
I love my porridge, no smoothie, milkshake or whatevershake can compare. In fact they dull in comparison. I love it sour, with a bit of lime. In fact don’t treat me with the expensive pizzas (not that I would mind) just take to that make-shift kibanda where a certain mami cooks it with all the love she can muster.
Then there is ugali, githeri, mukimo and everything kikuyu..the whole nine yards, but a recent visitor has made me think twice about my eating habits, not to mention those internet warriors shaming our kikuyu culinary skills with all kind of memes. Poverty.He has forced his way and I have not been slumbering nor sleeping. I am now questioning what I did to attract this unwanted suitor, this spawnling of the devil, who in the Lord’s name invited him here?
Let’s not blame inflation, seing that I am the only one complaining, but I am not the only one. I am sure that the minyoos( tapeworms and his Family) that have taken my stomach under siege, have also sensed a change in their enviroment. A sort of global warming.I know for sure due to the discomfort they have placed on poor me.
All because of this poverty. He is almost turning me into a vegetarian and not by choice. I will fight fellow bloggers. I will fight him to death. I cannot be a vegetarian. I refuse to be complacent.I will take on arrows, guns,clubs, pangas and machetes.I will shield myself with a helmet, breastplate. Yeah I will girt my loins. I refuse to be taken under siege.