February 5, 2012

Sisterhood Of The Travelling Kabudula: Malawian Women’s Pant Revolt

Logo of the Sisterhood network

Image via Wikipedia

It seems like there have been lingering gusts of wind from the “Arab Spring” in sub Saharan Africa. When Malawian women recently took the streets to defend their right to wear pants, miniskirts and short dresses, they were exercising their rights to be liberated from the shackles of Malawian patriarchy. It seemed inconceivable that almost 18 years after being legally allowed to wear what they wanted; a small section of Malawian men (reportedly street vendors) wanted to take Malawian women back. Malawian women were not allowed to wear pants or miniskirts until 1994 after the late dictator Kamuzu Banda stepped down from the Presidency in part due to the resistance of brave Malawian women. In the recent attacks by a few male dissidents, the perpetrators argued, in an odd, misplaced and criminal display of nationalism, that the way in which Malawian women were dressing in contemporary times was contradictory to traditional Malawian culture. Due to this claim, it is important that one dissects what this Malawian culture is that exists in the mind of a few: should practicing “our culture” mean adhering to the whims, tastes, and preference of a former dictator? Perhaps, it means adherence to colonial culture? Or maybe it means adherence to a traditional culture? What is problematic about making claims about traditional culture is that like all culture, it too evolves over time.

What is problematic for me is this imagined idea of “Malawian culture” comes to play when it is convenient for a few. It is important to note that traditional Malawian attire is anything but conservative, and exposes much more then what many ordinary Malawian women are wearing in the street. It was also interesting to note that the photos that were attached to some of the reports about this story featured exaggerated photographs of women with thongs hanging out, women with their derrieres on display, and women in clothing that can be considered inflammatory. Such type of journalism needs to be addressed because it is not reflective of that was occurring on the streets. It is also a part of the problem. The women being attacked were wearing what one would consider ‘proper’ attire in Malawi – some heading to or from regular 9-5 office work. Even if this was not the case, this is where a chance to sensitize the public on democracy can be taken. It needs to be drummed in that no one has the right to infringe on another person’s rights – also that this was a clear cut act of violence not an act of “cultural preservation”. If by “culture” they meant traditional clothing it is a mute point. If by “culture” they meant oppressing women, then there is room for debate. Although important to note that in traditional African culture, the relationship between men and women was more egalitarian. One would need to debate over whether their response, undressing young girls and women in pants are part of what they are referring to as indigenous Malawian “culture”. It become necessary in cases like this to really ‘return’ to our roots and understand our own cultures before using culture as a weapon to oppress fellow citizens along gender lines.

The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants (film)

Image via Wikipedia : Sisterhood of the travelling pants movie poster

It is important for me to note though that there seemed to be support from Malawian males over these issue that saw the attacks on their mother, sisters, and daughters as problematic. This is not the society that they want to live in. It is also not the society that Malawian women want to live in, which is why they protested. Malawian women decided not to sit down and take this violence quietly. They exercised their voice particularly when it was clear that the elected leadership in Malawi was slow to respond. One would expect such blatant displaced victimization of women to be addressed at its infant stages and not a few days later. It was very problematic that response was slow from the higher offices of the land after one too many women were attacked and after it was clear that both men and females denounced these acts. The significance of the women’s recent protests cannot be understated. The fact that Malawian women joined together in sisterhood to defend their rights, speaks volumes for what they are willing to live with. They continued to wear pants to work in protest! Others threatened to go nude! As one sympathizer that wore pants to work for the next few days noted on facebook, this was the ‘sisterhood of the travelling pants’. Malawian clearly realized their economic power, calling for a boycott of purchasing goods from vendors and demanding the government take action. After the women in Malawi spoke up, it was clear that the state was going to have to act, and that they were going to have to choose a side. The state chose to defend the rights that Malawian women fought for over 18 years ago, when they fought to rid themselves of the oppressive colonial government, an oppressive dictator, and most recently, an oppressive male street vendor.

Kabudula in Chichewa means ‘shorts’, ‘short pants’, or ‘underwear’

Enhanced by Zemanta

The African vs critical thinking

What is critical thinking? From Wikipedia its the process of thinking that questions assumptions.

Growing up in a tradition African setting most of the time you were never allowed to question from beliefs to traditions to culture.However when i joined university ,i was given the opportunity to question and share my opinion that i was afraid to do in my childhood.This gave the guts to not give into blind faith that tends to surround me when i’m at home.

Recently an aunt of mine purchased something known as the ‘bio disc’ in hopes to improve her health and “earn cash” .Apparently this ‘bio disc’  is a natural energy generating device,all you need to do is rinse all the water you drinking through it and also wear it 24/7,and the best part is you only need to purchase only one for the rest of your life.This ‘bio disc’ costs about 500 dollars.My aunt tried to convince me to purchase one to better my health. However this ‘bio disc’  sounded dodgy to me so i turned down the offer but my aunt was insistent and convinced me to attend one of their training or meetings(still not sure what it is).

Salesman

Image via Wikipedia

The meetings are held in a fancy hotel where a very convincing salesman/woman gives a demo of how the ‘bio disc’ works and shows a cheesy video of how to secure your finical future through the “bio disc’.The salesman starts by telling you his own personal life story of how this opportunity came to them when he/she had a mid life crisis and the miraculous made a tonne of money by joining the program .The salesman goes ahead to show a binary tree of how your investment of 500 dollars will miraculous multiply if you get all your family members and friends to buy this ‘bio disc’.Besides ‘bio disc’, on sale was ‘holiday packages “worth 15000 dollars and also precious stones worth 10,000 dollars or more.At the end of the meeting the salesman asked who not like to be part of this dream,I raised up my hand.The salesman went ahead to say I was a fool looking at gold.

On the drive back home with my aunt,I explained why i couldnt be part of scheme like that.One,the demo was ridiculous,placing the disc made you apparently stronger in a second or less. Two the bio disc costs 500 dollars!! Three,this binary tree turns to be a pyramid scheme which is illegal and a form of a ponzi scheme .Four ,the creator of the bio disc has no scientific research published and the scientific community hasn’t embraced it at all!! I could sense my aunt getting very uncomfortable as a 20 something was speaking to an elder of over 50 .She asked where i got all my information from and the answer was “google”.

Overall this scheme pissed me off as the people being taken advantage of were very poor people who used their savings and think they are making an investment,This is an example of blind faith that most times associated with Africans.

Enhanced by Zemanta

In pursuit of perceived acceptable norms…

Namibie, une femme Himba et son enfant

Image via Wikipedia

Adorable babies are frequently associated with the physical attributes of being large and chubby. Onlookers cannot help but notice these little ones with so much fascination and say words like, “What a healthy baby!” Indeed the mother will most often be congratulated on attaining this healthy baby size for her child with questions or advice on what tips she can share with other mothers whose babies are
bony.

I recall such scenarios in the early days of my first daughter.  My eldest daughter although having been of average weight expectation at delivery, went on to become quite chubby in the first 9mths of her life. As most new mothers would empathise, she was the most exquiste baby – and often magazine photo shoot offers for baby magazines would be put forth.   Then illness struck and this appeared to have affected her interest with food, followed by a drop in weight whereby her chubby cheeks became a distant memory from her earlier photos.  Her interest in food waned even further as a toddler when her sister came along. To a larger extent in hindsight, she inherited my eating habits of being a fussy eater.

Photo taken in 1967 or 1968. The mother was on...

Image via Wikipedia

My second daughter was chubby from delivery and her interest in food was just as healthy, she actually opted to lose the breast-feeding in preference to the bottle at 3mths.  The reason behind this method for her I thought at the time was that, she was guaranteed to have her fill…I didn’t seem to have enough milk to satiate her appetite.  Somehow also got the feeling my oldest daughter gave up on eating when she mistook her baby’s sister to be in more need of it than her, whilst observing her at meal times.  It was her (older daughter) initial expression and action on that made me conclude this.

The public comparisons of the two daughters made about their weight appearances from all corners of our social circles got to me in those early days of motherhood.  This can be quite overwhelming especially if you are also trying to bond with your husband’s/partner’s relatives whilst also hoping to win their affection if not favour.  It can be made worse also if there happens to be other issues to contend with such as another person who your in-laws may or may not have in favour.

Most positive comments tended to favour the chubbier child – myself included I confess.  I had grown up with the perception that babies were to be chubby, that if they were thin or light, they didn’t somehow measure up to be babies.  Chubby babies were cuddlier…cute even.  It gave you a sense of pride that you had done a good job… Big is seen as healthy overall in Africa.

Ill-informed and possibly silly to note and I now know that, but it was how my take on babies was. (For their privacy, you will excuse me for not posting their photos.)  There was a 2.5yr gap between my two daughters then. The pressure to ensure that my oldest daughter ate to be just as chubby as her baby sister was quite overwhelming at worst.  It made meal times stressful for both of us and found me constantly checking that she was topped up with all sorts of vitamins to encourage her appetite.  I must have relaxed my paranoia at some stage - though I am not sure exactly when.

I remembered being force-fed as a toddler and throwing up straight after; so this memory for me, coupled with my personality for doing things my way, stopped me from putting my daughter through the same path. It meant I had to put up with comments of my older daughter’s weight and comparisons from parents of other toddlers of her age group at social gatherings and even at playgroups.  Some of these comments were said innocently but they still had a negative effect at times.  For example, some persons would ask if I was feeding her enough and unsolicited suggestions followed for me to try different vitamins for her appetite. Yes, some would even suggest force-feeding her.

It is on this basis that I find the case of Gloria Dwomoh who has been found guilty of causing the death of her child because of force-feeding to be quite tragic for all concerned.  She was trying to ensure that her baby was physically adorable to those who saw her. To be able to stand up to years of conditioned perception of what is acceptable practice in the hope of attaining the perceived ideal in your community and the need to belong is not always easy to set aside, no matter what education or setting one may have.  True she was working within a medical establishment, but how many persons can we name that we know are nurses or doctors or even within respected professions yet smoke like troopers, use what is socially accepted as social class-A drugs or out-drink any fish there is in the sea?  Yet these persons know the complications of their actions and the impacts on others related or otherwise, but still do so…   You might argue that their actions are on themselves – which to some extent is true; however their actions or results of their actions impact indirectly or directly to others around. Is this not simply a case of choice of accepting held perceptions of norms to our social or cultural conditioning at the exclusion of all else? What does this have to say about social inclusion society’s complex cultures and beliefs in relation to the law of the land?

Enhanced by Zemanta

What’s in a name

I have been following the trial Conrad Murray trial, recently convicted for killing pop star Michael Jackson, and I was intrigued at the number of times the word Propofol was mentioned.

The singer is reported to have had an overdose of the anaesthetic drug leading to his death a few years ago.
What came to my mind first was that I will not be shocked in the next few months that some parents in Zimbabwe might name their children Propofol, yes Propofol. While this may seem like a joke, Zimbabweans have an odd way of christening their newly born children.

Strangely, Zimbabweans have a love for the English language and next time you meet someone with a rather odd English name, ask him which country he is from and don’t be surprised he is my country man.

As they say, charity begins at home, so I will begin by giving examples of some rather odd names in my family. My eldest uncle is called Nevermind, Never for short. My grandmother says he was born at a time of distress, as her and my grandfather were constantly fighting and the name was meant to communicate that she didn’t mind and could cope on her own without her husband.

They split up a few years later.

I also have an aunt called Easy, I have no idea who named her or what was going on during the time of her christening, but that’s certainly a name I am not going to give to my child.

Someone recently told me that they grew up with a neighbour whom they simply referred to as “Tom”. It was only years later that they discovered that the person’s full name was actually Symptom. Oh my gosh, what kind of a parent names their child that.

My favourite name though should be that of a newspaper analyst, his name is Psychology. Probably his parents were prophetic and wanted their sons to be a psychologist or something or maybe they were just intrigued by a term they thought was a jawbreaker.

Zimbabweans seem to have a complex that the better English you speak the more educated you are, they are contemptuous of people who cannot speak the Queen’s language fluently. So I think for us it follows that English names mean sophistry and intelligence of both our parents who named us and also for us the children, who carry those strange names like crowns on their heads.

I have one name, an Ndebele one (that is my tribe), but I often get people asking me if I do not have another one. The feeling I get is these people are just not satisfied with just one indigenous name, I need to have an English so I can fit in.

A cursory glance will reveal that most people with such names actually grew up in rural names and a person who attempted to speak or was at least fluent in English was exalted in that area. A one eyed man in the land of the blind, if you like.

So a child with an English name, never mind (that word again) how ludicrous it was, was seen as the child of sophisticated parents. As for urban folk, really am still trying to get a reason why their children would have some of the strangest names on this planet.

One of Zimbabwe’s top athletes is called Young Talkmore Nyongani. Really if I worked at the birth registry I would propose a jail term for any parent who even dared to burden their child with such names.

Zimbabweans also have a way of naming their children after historic or landmark events in their lives, but again they come up with weird names which only Zimbabweans can think of.

During the height of the economic problems, our government blamed all our ills on sanctions imposed by the west. And yes, you guessed it some family named their unfortunate child Sanctions, guess as a reminder of the tough times we went through.

During that same period, fuel was scarce and was available to only a few who could lay their hands on foreign currency and bought fuel coupons in advance. Fuel coupons soon became a substitute currency and soon people were transacting using the coupons.

Needless to say, some family soon named their child Coupon and I bet when he is all grown up, his grandchildren would always be willing listeners as to how their grandfather got such a name.

There are several more strange names and I could never attempt to exhaust the list, but in the last few weeks I have met a man named Amend, I have spoken to another called Agree and like I said, I will not be surprised to hear of Propofol in the next few months.

Enhanced by Zemanta

The Beauty of the Kenyan Coast

Even though we were still quite a few miles away from Mombasa, I could smell the briny air wafting in from the sea. We had made the nearly 300 mile journey from Nakuru by road. More road hours than we cared to count. Bathroom breaks. Notable scenery changes from the fertile highlands of the Rift Valley, to the savanna grasslands and flat-topped acacia trees of the Tsavo plains.Finally, finally, we approached the wide expanse of the Indian Ocean as we reached the Kenyan Coast.

Image courtesy of ownersdirect.co.ukI returned to Mombasa several times after that first trip as a preteen. The deep blue seas always called out my name and I answered, this love for water bodies having been passed down to me from my forefathers. I’ve stayed both on the North Coast and the South Coast (the city of Mombasa is an island, you see) and found that my heart generally gravitates towards the South Coast.

Driving down the main road in Mombasa, the huge tusks that arch over the street were amazing to behold. That first time, I wondered how big the elephants who had worn those tusks had to have been. Exploring the beautiful, mysterious waters of Malindi National Marine Park in a glass bottomed boat was my favorite experience of all time. So many wonderfully colored species of sea-wildlife: fishes, seahorses, sea urchins. Next time I go, I’ll try scuba diving.

Other places of interest in or near Mombasa include historical monuments (Fort Jesus, Old Town, the Vasco da Gama pillar and the House of Columns–the latter two in Malindi), the Gede ruins, the Haller Park animal sanctuary, spectacular geological formations at Hell’s Kitchen, the flora and fauna around the mouth of River Sabaki, coral reefs, and the Mamba Village, among others.

There’s so much to experience (not merely see) at the Kenyan coast, with the rich blend of cultures from its centuries of history: a conglomeration of Bantu ethnicities, some emigrated watu wa bara (Swahili for “people of the mainland”) and influences of Arabic, Portuguese and British culture. Really, I just couldn’t ever say enough good things about the intensely blue skies and seas, the white sandy beaches and the glorious days of fun possible at the Kenyan coast. No crowded beaches like you find in Western countries. If you haven’t been on a Kenyan beach, you haven’t really lived. So, two words for you: Go! Experience!

Enhanced by Zemanta

Grandfather For President: Why Age Limits Should Not Be Required for African Politicians (Part 2)

Ric Keller's Term Limtits pledge.

Image via Wikipedia

Questions about age limits seem simply to mask bigger questions of term limits and governance – we are arguing about the wrong issues and this deflects from more prominent ones. What we should be talking about is matters of enforcing constitutions, what a particular Presidents vision for the country is and most importantly, how they are going to execute it. Those should be the determinant factors in whether someone is electable, not age. We must not forget that as new countries in post independence Africa, many of the young leaders that came to power are the ones that became dictators – their failed visions for their respective countries weren’t largely determined by age, but by personalities. Presidents like Robert Mugabe are still in power in part, due to making mockeries of their constitutions. If our concern is creating an environment that enables dictators to run beyond the term limits, then this is the issue we should target by ensuring that our constitutions are not just fairy tales or show pieces. Mugabe has had term limits altered in the constitution in order to facilitate multiple terms. Now the debates in Zimbabwe centering on his age include trying to prove his age rather then addressing the constitutional amendments. He may not have had a chance to run again had he not had term limits changed regardless of what his real age is. Age is, and should be a non-issue. It’s simply a distraction from debating the real issue – manipulation or disregard of constitutional limits.

In post-Banda Malawi, an attempt to allow a third term for the first democratically elected President, Bakili Muluzi was effectively halted by the Malawi parliament and courts at the time it was brought to the forefront. This set precedence for the next President, Bingu wa Mutharika, who has indicated that he too plans on stepping down as well. Mutharika’s age was an issue during the election time, but whilst he was subsidizing agriculture for Malawian farmers during his first term, nobody cared about his age. Incidentally, Mutharika was re-elected and is now serving his second term at age 77. Term limits should be rigid and adhered to weather the serving president is considered good or bad so that the constitution becomes the supreme law and not individuals. If a Presidents term is particularity successful, this should not be seen as an opportunity to extend the term limit. If during a term limit a President’s governance is not what was expected then the constitution should provide for a process that will facilitate change as well.  If a person is 70 years old and still has the energy, acumen, and zeal to improve the conditions of their people, they should still be able to run for President. The real issue for Africa that we should continue to debate on is the person’s record and ability to govern not their age. As noted in “Grandfather For President: Why Age Limits Should Not Be Required for African Politicians Part 1″, we should not practice ageism unnecessarily, and perhaps at the detriment of finding another Mandela within our midst.

Additionally, for Africa, the issue of Presidential age has a further reaching cultural significance. In western cultures, the relationship between the young and old differs from African cultures; from a young age, African children are taught to respect and listen to elders in a profound way. Whether these elders are related or strangers, an elder holds a certain positive achieved and ascribed status in most African societies. This is reflected differently in various African cultural norms (ie some societies are traditionally organized by age-sets) and dictates how younger Africans behave towards the elderly. As an example, it would determine the greeting, handshake, body posture, gaze, conversation or other interaction that one would have with the elderly. In the U.S, the nomination of Republican candidate John McCain (particularly after Dick Chaney’s tenure as Vice-President) was a highly problematic for the republican campaign. In part, this is a reflection of a problem of ageism towards baby boomers in a graying America and general cultural attitude towards the value and mental acumen of elderly in that country.  I wondered to what extent decisions to include this information by western (or African) journalists and the continuing debates about age in African politics was a reflection of attitudes towards age in the global North.  For African countries, the arguments surrounding legislating age restrictions for ageing presidential candidates are more centered on preventing brutal dictatorships or poor governance. In African societies were the wisdom and guidance of elders is respected, tackling issues of age and politics proves problematic when it comes to dealing with long serving bad leaders who’s constituency no longer thinks is wise. Although it seems that setting an age limit for presidential candidates is a simple solution, for most African countries, this solution has far reaching dynamics. We need to focus our energy on term limits which would prevent presidential candidates from running and winning indefinitely. It deflects upsets social codes of behavior, deflects attention from setting term limits, and keeps us from debating other issue of governance which should be central. If a President builds schools in your villages, does it really matter what age they were when they built it? Similarly, can that President still not build schools outside of office?

Enhanced by Zemanta

The World’s best diet

Uglai and cabbage. Ugali (also sometimes calle...

Image via Wikipedia

A few months ago I watched a TV programme entitled the world’s best diet. The show featured presenter Jonathan Maitland and  a celebrity spread of made up of Linda Robson, Cheryl Baker, Darren Gough and Carole Malone. Whilst I wouldn’t argue that some of the destinations, for instance, Japan, offered the worlds healthiest lifestyles, I was somewhat disappointed that nowhere in the programme was any part of Africa featured. I cannot blame anyone for this, as much as we would like, Africa in terms of its food still presents itself as the dark continent, where no light has been shed on some of the best recipes it can offer.

Additionally, for those recipes that have emerged as familiar, they do not exactly come across as the healthiest, even to people of African origin. I remember having a conversation with another African lady at a recent ethical fashion event about presenting an afro centric diet as a healthy living way of life. Her immediate comment was, “well, African food does not strike me as healthy.” In today’s post I wish to challenge this idea. The only way to do this is through educating readers out there and letting them know that if we examine African staples and tweak them here and there, we are actually in the running to provide one of the world’s healthiest diets.

Let us examine a very popular dish which one would find easily across east and southern africa. ‘Ugali, irio na nyama’ in other words solids made of maize, millet or sorghum meal, green vegetables such as spinach or the truly divine covo and meat or fish. With the ugali rich in fibre, greens rich in iron and grilled river tilapia rich in healthy protein and some omega 3, you are well on your way to a healthy diet. Take another recipe which is made up of our popular stew. Stews are normally tomato based, with onions, garlic and ginger. Why this comes across as vastly different to pasta sauce, an Italian staple, (Italy ”Mediterranean” featured as healthiest diet destination) is beyond me. We only fall short in the preparation of stew, where too much oil used is not uncommon.

Apart from all of this, the afro centric diet abounds with fresh or naturally preserved ingredients. You seldom hear of a diet rich in fast or highly processed foods. And even better is our use of indigenous plants and herbs as natural remedies. There are remedies for controlling diabetes and high blood pressure (dawadawa), cholesterol and even malaria treatment. All of these could benefit from additional research but they have been used for 100′s of years and need not be suddenly “discovered” by some witty Oxbridge scholar, we already know about them.

Follow this link to read more on a recipe of interest to you or like us on facebook.

Enhanced by Zemanta

Goat Kebabs: from the Afro Centric Diet series

Fresh cleaned mutton (castrated male goat meat...

Image via Wikipedia

Well, I would categorise this dish as intermediate to difficult. Even though it really could be easy, it is time consuming therefore be prepared to get up close and personal with your kitchen. I remember this as a favourite at the parties my mom used to throw way back when we were kids. The time and effort put into making these kebabs is well worth it. Here goes.

1kg goat meat
Onion
Garlic
Ginger
Chicken stock
Scotch bonnet pepper
Optional Spices (cloves, bay leaf)

I like to cook goat with a lot of spices, seasoning and bulb vegetables like onion, garlic and ginger to tone down the natural scent if goat meat. Cook until tender. When pressed for time like I often am, I pressure cook the meat and it is done within 15 minutes at pressure.

While the goat is cooking, work on the sauce, which is essentially the tomato stew base I blogged about in my last post. For the kebabs, I like to use fresh tomatoes for their natural sweetness instead of the canned ones which can sometimes have a sour taste.

1 large onion
Garlic
Ginger
Scotch bonnet peppers
1 tbsp tomato puree
4 large fresh tomatoes
Olive oil

Follow the instructions for the tomato stew base ensuring that the resulting sauce is quite thick, not watery.

Now, the meat should be done. Traditionally, the next step would be to deep fry the meat. I have been moving away from using too much oil in my cooking, so at this stage I actually grill the meat until sealed and browned on the outside yet juicy and tender on the inside. It is now time to assemble your kebabs with the following.

1 red onion
Colourful peppers
Freshly sliced tomatoes.

Chop all of these to about an inch each side. Take your bamboo skewers and begin to assemble the kebabs, alternating meat and vegetables. Each kebab ending up with 3 to 4 pieces of meat is fine.  Now drizzle the spicy tomato stew base all over the kebabs ensuring every inch of meat is covered and they are ready to serve.

Bon appetite!

For more step by step photos, click here.

Enhanced by Zemanta

Spicy Moroccan Style Chickpea and Couscous

I love eating good food (who doesn’t?!). I love spicy food too and although I believe I may be secretly addicted to chillies, this particular recipe has none.  As much time as I seem to spend in the kitchen preparing meals, treats, cakes, breads and so on, I have to confess that I am also a lazy cook.  I don’t like fuss, I don’t like dirty dishes, bowls or pots that will require additional labour from me after I have eaten and want to relax and I NEVER follow a recipe!!  I always improvise, add extra, cut out or substitute and fortunately I have not had too many disasters.

This recipe is modest with it’s ingredient amounts, they are probably suitable for most, I use a lot more of the spices than I say but it may not be to everyone’s palette.

This recipe is great for those of you who also like spicy food but without the burn. It is so versatile you can add quite a variety of ingredients to it dependent upon what you may or may not have in your fridge or pantry at any given time: I have replaced the chickpeas with mushrooms and/or cooked, browned and cubed chicken. In place of the asafoetida I have used a crushed clove of garlic which could just as easily be replaced with finely chopped onion. Always remember, cooking is not rocket science and in this instance you can give or take quite easily with little likelihood of disaster.

AND, best of all, it takes a bare minimum of time to prepare and you have a tasty delicious warm meal that is also extremely healthy.

To be perfectly honest, I don’t know how Moroccan this really is but it sounds exotic doesn’t it?  Given the fantastic mix of cultures on the African continent from North to South, East to West and I include India and the Middle East in this, it is without doubt right at home here in Africa.

You will need the following ingredients:

3 tablespoons of margarine or butter (about 125g)

2ml salt

2ml asafoetida (this is entirely optional, but I love its warm spicy flavour)

3ml turmeric

3ml ground cumin (jeera)

3ml ground coriander (dhanya)

1 star anise

1 small stick cinnamon

1 cup OR 1 410g tin of cooked drained chickpeas (garbanzo beans)

300ml (I use about 1  1/4 cup) couscous

500ml (2 cups) vegetable stock

1 small bunch chives chopped

Let us start cooking:

Have the two cups of boiling vegetable stock in a pourable container to one side before you start (the cube or powdered kind is fine too, follow manufacturer instructions, chicken stock is also fine).

Melt the margarine/butter in a medium pot over medium heat, add all the spices and raise the temperature of the pot or pan enough to let this mixture  bubble and simmer.

Dry spices in pot

Spices simmering in melted margarine / butter

 

 

 

 

 

 

Be very careful not to burn it, you will know it is sufficiently done when you can smell the warm aroma of the spices.  This should not take much more than a minute or two, stir it constantly. When done remove from heat and reduce the heat to medium.

Find your chickpeas (I am replaying my own chaotic kitchen planning here). Place the pot back on the heat and stir in the chickpeas, coat them well with the mixture and stir all the time until they are heated through, about 2 or 3 minutes.

Chickpeas added. Heated & coated with spice mixture

Dry uncooked couscous added to pot

Mix couscous into mixture for about 2-3 minutes until heated through

 

 

 

 

 

 

Remove from heat and pour in the couscous, stir this into the mixture too until the couscous it coated with the spice mixture, you can “cook” (I put it in inverted commas because you are really just heating it over the hot plate again) for a minute or 3.

Remove from heat again, turn the plate off, you won’t be needing it any longer.

Pour the two cups of vegetable stock into the pot over all the ingredients and put the lid on and let it stand for 5 to 6 minutes until the liquid is absorbed.

Add the 500ml (2 cups) of hot vegetable stock to the mixture in the pot

Stock covering chickpea, couscous and spices

Cover pot with lid and let it stand for 5 - 6 mins

 

 

 

 

 

 

Fluff it up with a fork (probably a good time to pull out the stick cinnamon and start anise too, but not critical, just warn your diners). I sometimes add a tablespoon or two of olive oil here, but it is just something I do because I like olive oil, almost as much as I do chillies.

After 5-6 minutes the vegetable stock has been absorbed by the couscous

Fluff (separate) the couscous with a fork

 

 

 

 

 

 

Put into individual bowls, sprinkle with fresh chopped chives (parsley or even fresh chopped coriander is also fine) and serve.

This recipe should serve 6-8 portions.  In my house, where legs seem hollow and bowls always empty, we get about 4 large servings, enough to satiate teen hunger.

Put on some cool, relaxing African rhythms to eat along with, some marimba or jazz and if you like, some Chardonnay … why not, South African wines are among the finest in the world. Enjoy!

Serve, sprinkle with either chopped chives, parsley or fresh coriander. This may not look like much from the 2MP photos taken with my phone, but I assure you, it tastes heavenly

 

Enhanced by Zemanta

Kitenge Phenomena

Kitenge, a traditional cloth worn by Swahili women

Image via Wikipedia

  1. “The kitenge is what journalists like to describe as “colourful African fabric” writes Jina Moore, a journalist herself.  The kitenge is indeed colourful with beautiful patterns. This piece of clothing is worn all over Africa and is also now starting to cross over into the western world thanks to some celebrities being spotted wearing it. The kitenge is similar to the kanga but thicker. This piece of clothing has been there way before I was born. I grew up watching my mother, aunts, sisters and the neighbours wearing the kitenge like there was nothing else to wear. This was due to the fact that the kitenge is an all season kind of item.

At more than £60 pounds for 6 yards the Vlisco Veritable Hollandais (Super wax) is the most expensive and the must have of them all types of different kitenges out there. The material is rich and has a nice shine to it. If you have one of these in your possession you will know what I am talking about. Women especially those from French speaking countries can spot a super wax a mile away! If it is a design that they don’t have, women are known to go out and look for that special kitenge that they saw. she does all she can to have it. Some are known to pay in installments if it means she will eventually have it in her wardrobe. And for less than £20 also you can get yourself a nice other kind of kitenge. Whether it’s already made or just the material for you take to the tailors who will work their magic and produce a beautiful design. The kitenge is known to be elegant and respectable. It can be worn at a party, wedding, going to the markets and funerals too. It tends to give the wearer a proud African touch no matter where you are.

If there is an item in my wardrobe that makes me feel a woman, it is the kitenge.  I have to admit that it really does have that effect on me. I love the feel of the not so soft material and the way you always manage to look elegant even if you are not “feeling” it.

Every woman of African descent should have at least one kitenge. And if you don’t have one make sure you get yourself one as soon as possible because I and other African women don’t want you missing out on the phenomena that is the kitenge.

The kitenge is now no longer just a wrap around yourself garment of wear. It’s being made into table cloths, handbags, shoes, not forgetting the century old African tradition of carrying a baby on your back.

Enhanced by Zemanta