Make chapati in the village at your Peril.

MAKE CHAPATI IN THE VILLAGE AT YOUR PERIL.By Kipruto Lang’at
It is indubitable that most families –if not all families in the village- make chapatis once in a year; on Christmas season and the New Year’s Eve. The rest of the year is graced with the normal menu of mostly githeri (mixture of maize and a number of countable beans) and ugali. It is only on very rare- yes very rare- occasions that chapatis make it to the table outside the “designated” moments. As the saying goes, desperate moments call for desperate measures. Only when a faraway visitor such as the in-laws or a daughter who has been married but has not visited home for many years arrives, prompts the preparation of a special dish. In many instances, such visitors come with ‘full package’ for the meal which also doubles up as a thanks giving gift for a nice welcome. The so full package involves full course ingredients of making the bake – twosome packets of giant baking flour, a ‘rare’ tin of cooking oil (normally more than two liters), sugar as well as the other necessaries such as baking powder and food colors. When the host family is ‘unlucky’ to get the ingredients from their visitors, a hunt begins; to borrow from the no-nonsense village shopkeeper the necessaries( a tiny packet of flour and a handful of sugar) or sell the only remaining cock at throwaway price in order to do the shopping in hard cash. In this regard, there is less pomp associated because everything is done under careful rationing but care is taken not to disappoint the visitor. Whether the bake was sponsored by the host or the visitor, it does not matter much; both are rare cases which are also windows of opportunities for not only the household children but also those of neighbors. As soon as the ‘signs’ of preparing the bake are seen, there is a beehive of activities from all corners. Since the ‘tools’ mainly the frying pan had obviously been misplaced, the search begins. It is here that the activeness and appetites of the children are at their best high. Note that the appetite is specific; it is not towards the half boiled sweet potatoes or the much fought after ugali crumb left after cooking but to the “kings’ meal” in the making. Everyone (among the children) literally ‘save time’ by taking the shortest time possible in their assigned roles since each one wants to come close to the kitchen as soon as possible. Often than not, the utensils are not all in the house; that means some have to be borrowed from the neighbors. This is often where the rumor spreads across the village like the BUSHFIRE. As the Kalenjin saying goes; maingen komwa lembech lakwa (a child does not know how to lie) so it proves to be true. As they walk to every house where they are likely to get what they had been sent to get, they spread the rumor that a “party” is brewing at their home totally ignoring the aforementioned strict warning from the mother not to reveal anything about the visitor, or what is specifically being cooked. Soon, the children emerge from different directions carrying the required utensils. Coincidentally, all bring similar items forcing the mother to make another ‘order’ as the preparations take full gear. What is notable is the number of ‘friends’ accompanying the children; all hungry for a bite of the bread of life, most likely. There are the unlucky ones who soon are forced to go and check their cattle. They beg the remaining (lucky ones) to save them a piece and deliver it the next day in the classroom. For the hopeful pupils, the morning takes long to come by; if the promise has been fulfilled the ‘war’ is not yet fought. To get a bite literally employs the Darwin’s Theory of Species- Survival of the Fittest. It is not abnormal to see twenty or so boys speeding after a very transparent piece of chapati only to abandon the chase after sweating –and seeing no chance of making a glorious bite. The news about the home where the meal originated spreads to over half of the school before the 8.00a.m. assembly. It is at such times only when the villagers know how to keep time- just for convenience- such as weddings and rare celebrations. It is right after the last piece has been taken from the pan that the villagers troop in –everyone with a reason. Many use unreturned borrowed items as a reason for coming. From pangas, wheelbarrows and jembes to sewing needles and combs, the villagers never lack what to look for. “I have decided to bring your hair comb today since this is the only free time available for me.” One woman would say as she helps herself to any available bench.An old man on the other hand would carry a broken Knapsack Sprayer he borrowed years back which is as good as forgotten. Sunday school Bibles top the list as they make their way home- tattered like nonsense- unexpectedly. More often than not, these villagers wait to be welcomed to the meal in vain. They hang around the compound –playing with the home’s dog if any- so as to make themselves busy. Women find it easier to sweep the compound –free of charge. All these are done so as to maximize on the chances of being welcomed in and probably munch the ‘hallowed” chapati. As it turns out, the mother had long time ago noted the ‘strange visitors’ so she acts accordingly; she safely keeps the remainder –if any- in the Mzee’s bedroom and clears the table. Welcoming the villager who had deposited their items, she serves them watery tea –indeed very watery tea- in a giant kettle as she asks them to feel at home. Feeling ashamed, they slowly take the PLAIN tea wondering why they had bothered themselves to return what could have been theirs forever. “I will re-borrow the axe never to return it again.” A silently protesting young man decides as he sips the steaming sugarless beverage. -ENDS-