Taste of Africa

Nothing taste better than a home-cooked meal. The flavor, aroma, and lather that salivates your salivary glands before the food touches your mouth is breathtaking. Now imagine being away from home for months or close to a year, where everything you now consume on a daily basis is far from that home-cooked meal you’re used to. The day you come into contact with that famous homemade food/meal again will be a humbling experience.

This was my reality for 3 months, and some school years even longer. I was merely 10 years old and freshly enrolled into a catholic boarding school. The feeling was bittersweet, for I had constantly nagged my Mother from the time I was in 2nd grade, of when will she enroll me into boarding school. Most students from out of town had the option to enroll in this school privately from a tender age. However my parents thought it would be conducive to wait till the mandatory age of 10 years to enroll into boarding school. So I eagerly waited to reach fifth grade so I could enjoy the privilege of my long time childhood goals.

This joyous occasion was short-lived. My reality of “Boarding school life” drastically changed overnight, and the privilege to request what I want to eat relinquished immediately. I was now at the mercy of the Chaplain food menu items for the duration of my first semester/term. The life I once envisioned to be of glitzed and glamour now seemed dark and gloomy. The food items that once smelled so tasteful now had a different ambiance. These current food items we were now provided were not very appealing, leave alone tasteful. I wanted to take back everything I had previously said for the duration of 4 years, and go back to enjoying my mothers home cooked meals instead. However, that privilege was now a thing of the past and I was now left to ponder in regrets.

My first week in boarding school was the worst experience ever. I lost half of my body weight and got extremely sick. The strict school rules enforced did not permit visitation from parents/family, for another 2 months. I could not imagine not seeing my mother that long, leave alone continuing to consume that crappy food menu for another day. I was dying silently and felt spiritually out of touch with my new norm. I started boycotting eating at all hoping my tastebuds would gradually adapt, to the school menu items. That did not end well, by day 4 of my first week I was now bed ridden, and not attending classes. Each day was full of agony as my sickness worsened. I knew I would have to consume that crappy food again before they consider discharging me to go home for proper treatment.

Prior to my first day of boarding school, my Mother had strictly instructed me never to seek treatment from the school dispensary. But instead find away to alert her of my ailments throughout the school year. I knew I had to gather the strength to leave my bed side and go out doors and try to relay my sickness message to my Mother somehow. Luckily, on my 4th day of ailment. I garnered the strength to leave the dormitory and sit by the fence premises hoping to scout any recognizable village mate passing along the school.

After stalling outdoors for approximately 30 minutes, I was able to scout my cousin’s school-mate. I immediately pleaded with her to walk over to our home and alert my Mother of my ailment, or anyone within our home. Feeling some form of relief, I returned to the dormitory to rest some more. That trek from school to our home was about 15-20 minutes walk. So I knew my mother would be arriving first thing in the morning. The following day I eagerly waited for my Mother to arrive, yet my wishes were in vain. No one showed up, leave alone checked on me in my sick bed. I knew I had to garner more strength to go outside once more, and attempt scouting for another bystander.

Approximately by 5pm, I made my way to the scouting post once again. Desperately trying to pass my message to my mother by all means. Luckily, my cousin’s school maté returned that evening. She stated I attempted to relay your message to your mother, but I was told she traveled and won’t be back till today. Hopefully she gets back on time and comes to see you today. I was shattered, I couldn’t imagine spending another night alone, miserable and sickling. My condition had extremely worsened, again I pleaded with my cousin’s school mate to return to our home again and relay the urgency for proper treatment for my ailment.

Day 6 was blissful but hectic. Saturday was the usual cleanup day in our school, so all dormitories had to be thoroughly cleaned. That ment everything aired out in the fields and everyone got to play outdoors after assigned chores. They did not take into consideration that I was extremely sick. I was escorted out to the fields by 8am. All I remember is finding spot within the rays of sunrise light and laying down. It got warmer extremely quickly that day and I semi-lost consciousness outdoors. The next several hours were extremely difficult, I had completely lost all faith in my mother coming for me at all. The school nurse aide would constantly throw jabs stating if you don’t seek treatment at the school then you must be pretending to be sick. I was too weak to even react to her assumptions.

Approximately 10am Saturday morning, my mother graced my presence. I had never been so happy to see my mother like on this day. She broke into tears seeing the condition I was in. I was extremely emaciated and somewhat unrecognizable. She immediately called the watch man to assist her in getting me to the nearest hospital. The school principal soon came by to inquire why My Mother would take me out of this institution without permission/ being excused from school. She went into a frenzy, she was furious no one contacted her nor checked on my wellness. I was semi-conscious at this point, whatever transpired between the public outburst of my Mother and the principal is unknown to me.

I only recall being treated at the hospital. And later getting discharged that evening to go home. My mother did not even ask me if I wanted to go home or back to school, she took me home directly. Unable to walk after being discharged, she shuffled to get me home before sunset. I had never felt so proud in my life. She voluntarily gave me a recovery pass to rest at home.

Fast forward to one week of recovery at home, I started re-gaining my weight and tastebuds back. The first real meal I remember having was “Matoke” fried bananas with tea. I can almost taste it still. This meal has become my all time favorite since childhood. But after consuming it upon my ailment incident, this meal left an imprint in my life. The agony, emptiness and sadness I encountered in boarding school my first week was now replaced with a Motherly love and unbreakable bond. Every time I consume “Matoke” I am reminded of that dreadful day, 2 decades ago. The feeling is still bittersweet, given that the memory of what could have been, turned out into a nostalgic moment. Home and away, Matoke will always be my comfort food as well as a moment in time. We all have that great childhood memory, mines happens to be an authentic aroma filled with the beauty of green bananas. May my recipe brings comfort to your home and family, as much as sharing my story fulfills my spirit.

Ingredients:

8-10 green African Bananas

1 Onions

4 Tomatoes

Pinch Salt

2/3 Oil

Directions

-Peel bananas and set aside

-Cut into cubic chunks and submerge in water

-Rinse thoroughly and Pre-Boil until medium soft

- Strain excess water and set aside

1. Chop onions and tomatoes, then set aside

2. On a separate pan/pot, add chopped onions and oil

3. Heat and sauté until Golden Brown

4. Add Tomatoes, and let simmer

5. Add pinch of salt and sauté to create a paste

6. Add pre-boil bananas and lower heat to medium-low

7. Cover and toss lightly

8. Cook for 10-15 Minutes while tossing occasionally

9. Serve hot with Tea, Coffee, Rice, or Stew

10. Serves 5-6 people

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