Wanja Kavengi
One particular day, he came home with a cock. He said he had bought it at a throwaway price from a desperate friend, but I still have my suspicions that he acquired it under illegal circumstances. He directed that the cock be slaughtered for supper. We were extremely excited. It would be the first time in a long while that we would taste chicken again, and the first time we would eat a good meal in over a year.
We all participated in the slaughtering and cooking, unlike any other time before. Those who despise lighting firewood for whatever shallow excuse – we have resorted to using firewood because we can’t afford gas, kerosene or charcoal – volunteered to gather the firewood and light a fire.
“So now you can light firewood?” they were asked. “You no longer have asthma?”
“Is it a problem if I help?” they answered.
“Why now? Why not yesterday and previous days?”
“Were we cooking chicken then?”
Those who hardly touch cooking pots because they “can’t cook” for one flimsy excuse or another, offered to cook the chicken because they had a delicious recipe in mind.
“So now suddenly you know how to cook?” they were asked.
“I’ve always known how to cook,” they answered.
“Then why do you always refuse?”
“Is it always chicken?”
An “enlightened” family member who is always accusing us of having “unchecked rage and violence” based on the numerous fights we have with each other, was the very one that sharpened a knife, stepped on the cock’s wings, and decapitated it like someone with unchecked rage and violence.
“So you have a problem when I kill a spider but you have no problem killing a chicken?” they were asked.
“Will we eat the spider?” they answered.
We didn’t leave the fireplace the entire time the chicken was cooking. Whenever someone went over the pot to stir the chicken, we would follow them with our eyes and watch them like a hawk; how they stirred, how they looked at the meat while they stirred, how they tasted the soup for salt and the quantity of soup tasted, how long they stirred the pot. This scrutiny discouraged anyone from taking a piece of the meat in the name of “tasting to see if it’s ready”.
[excerpt from HUNGER. Call/text/WhatsApp me on +254702723310 for an autographed copy. Available at Nuria store for only Ksh 1,000]
This post was created with our nice and easy submission form. Create your post!
Did this story move you? Every gift goes directly to Wanja Kavengi — writers on Muwado earn from reader appreciation, not algorithms. Even $1 makes a difference.
Muwado weekly chart
Get Africa’s top 10 stories every Thursday
No account needed — just your email.
Want to follow Wanja Kavengi and get notified every time they publish?
Create a free Muwado account →