In Uswaz, we are what we eat

Sunday February 3 2019


By Peter Muthamia

Instead of grey matter inside my skull there is real goat brains in there. No wonder I have insatiable love for anything “goaty” including goat “socks” also known as “mapaya” (or hooves if you mind), goat head soup (complete with goat brain) and goat unmentionables outside Sugar Ray Bar at Kwa Sokota, in Temeke. No wonder I think and act like a goat.

Put otherwise, the boring third-rate column you are now reading was written by one with the brains of a goat and the body of a real pig.

That is why I am almost sure that in the life after, I will probably be born a goat, that is if you believe in reincarnation like I do. After all, don’t they say that you are what you eat? But, I also enjoy sampling cow “socks” hooves alias (makongoro), ox tail, cow brains and so forth.

In this god-forsaken, rat and cockroach-infested Uswaz, we eat whatever comes our way. That is why in Uswaz, all animal characteristics.

Tatu my favourite barmaid relentlessly pesters me to buy her chicken and chips whenever I saunter into Mzee Shirima’s beer-drinking and kitimoto-eating hole. I really cannot tell whether she resembles either chips or chicken after feeding on them. After all, she is what she eats.

Sometimes she looks to me, more like oily chips served in Uswaz bars and ‘outside’ catering services - dusty roadside stands with every tribe of houseflies and their cousins buzzing and singing hallelujah.

Hussein the Uswaz wag avers that she looks more like a barbequed whole chicken in her nudity (this I cannot tell). He draws and analogy of a whole chicken sizzling on an Uswaz charcoal stove – wings like hands and leg stamps, all raised up in unholy intimacies.

Hussein the Uswaz wag tells me that marrow in the cow’s hooves help strengthen one’s legs and increase libido.

I reasoned that since bus fare is always not available, and that I am always on my feet walking to and from the mother of all Uswaz called Mbagala, I need bone marrow in my joints.

I said earlier that sometimes feel like a pig that has been taught how to walk and talk.

Why? Because I am an ardent tickler of my palate with the devil’s culinary (kitimoto or pork if you like). Of course all religions forbid eating of ‘kitimoto’ (pork) and that is why it falls in the list of devil’s most favourite morsel.

I am reliably informed that in hell, all cuisines must include pork in them. Remember that we are what we eat.

For those of you who think that everything aloe vera is food should have their heads examined. They might end up as bitter as that plant.