APRIL...

April.
April is a girl's name, April is a month. The French say Avril, that goes for both the girl and the month. April people are Aries. The goat. I love goats. I am an Aries. I am an April person. This April marks my twentieth year on this planet. It also marks the culmination of a solid two years of ADULTING. Actually, scrap that, it marks two years of having a National Identity Card. Two years of pretending to be getting the hang of all this adulthood business and maturity. Two years of writing things on this little corner of the internet I am proud to call ours. Two years of trying to figure out relationships; to have or not to have, school; to continue pretending I know what I am doing or to say, screw this, get on a bus to Mombasa and find myself an elderly mzungu woman. These and a whole lot more things. It's all chaotic really.
They say, 'with age comes wisdom' and I agree. With age I have come to know what spots in town serve the best chipos, where to get the best deals on cologne and earphones (totally not related,I know) and which route has the hottest matatus. That, dearly beloved, is true wisdom in the flesh. I have also come to know which streets to avoid at night unless getting mugged is your idea of a great ending to a long day. I know that when a person stops you on the street with a Kenya Charity Sweepstake raffle card asking you for directions to some random, non-existent office building, that human is trying to con you, get you mugged or sell your kidneys.
My ten-year-old self might probably be really disappointed in twenty-year-old me. I don't have one of those silver Motorola flip-phones with a catchy Rihanna tune as my ringtone. I don't have a beard. This is a disappointment that will probably be echoed all through to eighteen-year-old me. (Nineteen and I have more important matters to discuss such as our country's wage bill). I have never seen Beyonce live. I no longer have my Supa Strikas collection, Shakes Makena and all. I never repaired the bike. It is still in the rickety state it was in when I dumped it ten years ago. When I cleared primary school, I didn't burn my books, actually I kept them in tiptop condition, not a single page torn. He would be disappointed I am not taking Neurosurgery in Uni. If anything, I am miles away from anything close to that.
Acne
Join the dots, is what I called them. That pattern that maps the entirety of your face and your back. Prep time in high school, 7:48 pm. The ugali and beans supper went really well with the piping hot cup of tea. If only you didn't now have to deal with the gas in your stomach causing you all sorts of bloating. Hands meet face as eyes trail words on the History textbook. The finest level of multi tasking seen yet. Pop, pop,pop go the zits. Your forehead is this goldmine of scars caused by your incessant picking. 7:56, "Brayo, I need tissue." Brayo hands you tissue, he's a good chap, he isn't selfish with his tissue, pens, Vaseline, Kiwi, toothpaste and washing powder. You use 'one square' (this is sincerely the only measurement I use for tissue, squares) to wipe all the blood from your face after your pop-fest and the rest, well, I can't say that, there's food on this post,man!
My teenage was one serious battle with acne. I hated people without acne. Man, these were worse than the ones who would eat anything and not get any bit fat, while you, you measure the portions of your food, you get your exercise on, eat your vegetables, sleep eight hours a day and still look preggers. I broke my voice with my acne already making its presence felt. The armpits now had hanging gardens as well. Legs started looking bushier and of course there were new members in the land down under. (Trust me, there are people who won't get that.) So, there was my teenage self. A moving hairy, sweaty mass of fat and anxiety. Came the roll-on. Fresh armpits to the detriment to my white shirt. More freshness of skin, more yellowing of my shirt under arms.
Eyes
I first saw beautiful eyes in my teenage years. You know the type of beauty that hooks you? Looking at them felt like a violation of something, I don't know what, just breaking some random law. I never spoke to the eyes though, I was too deep in the consciousness of my acne to muster any courage to approach. Of course I have seen more  beautiful eyes over time, spoken to a couple of them, some of them remain just that, beautiful eyes. Not beautiful eyes leading to a beautiful soul or anything, just beautiful eyes, all surface, no inner part. Others turn out to be cunning eyes, gorgeous on the surface, nasty on the inside. Some eyes leave you yearning, craving more. I wonder, if I had gone up to the eyes I first saw, how would they turn out like?
Pizza
Growing has its joys and its pains and its laughs and its cries. I am glad to have had a good twenty year run. Twenty years from now, I'll be a forty year old man. I refuse to say balding because I believe in the miracle working ways of hair-growing creams. I probably will be addicted to pizza and will be on a programme to help addicts cope, Pizzaholics Anonymous (PA).
"Sasa Mwaniki, are you coming to PA today?"
sobbing, "I am sorry, I keep taking one step forward and two back."
"Don't speak like that, your are stronger than the cheese and the bacon and the crust and the evil ways of the pizza-"
interjecting angrily, "pizza is loyal, pizza has been with me since my acne, pizza will be with me all through life and finally pizza is NOT evil. Goodbye Caro, have a fun pizzaless life."
I'll ring off and feel a thousand kilograms lighter. I will get a nice Hawaiian and celebrate. No Caro from PA, no feelings of failing, just me and good ol' pizza. What a future eh?
Embrace life with all its acne and pizza, its more fun that way.

I am super excited to be making something I have always wanted to try; Githeri. Githeri is your staple boarding highschool meal. Its a mixture of maize and beans boiled together. However, we all know that fried githeri is where it's at right? Well, how about fried githeri with nduma (arrow roots)? That's what we are all about today.

Ingredients;
2 cups boiled githeri
2 arrow roots peeled
4 carrots diced
1 onion bulb
1 green bell-pepper (hoho)
Coriander leaves (dhania)

Method
If your githeri is not boiled, boil maize and beans together till the beans become soft. In a sufuria, fry your onions and tomatoes. Add your carrots and let them juice up first then add the arrow roots. Leave this on medium heat for 4-5 minutes before you add your githeri. Remember to stir to avoid burning. Throw in the githeri and add water to cover. If you have Coconut Milk, you can add it at this stage. Cover and let this cook. after 20-30 minutes, check whether the arrow roots have softened. Season with salt. Once done you can serve with vegetables or even better coleslaw

For the Coleslaw,
You will need a quarter (1/4) cabbage, two carrots, one table spoon white vinegar, salt and two spoons of mayonnaise. Cut your cabbage into small pieces and grate your carrots in small strips. mix these up and add your vinegar. Mix then add salt. Once you are satisfied with the seasoning, add your mayonnaise and mix until it's all done. Best served cold.

Serving suggestion

Thank you for reading and sharing
Hope to see you here soon, kindly check out my previous work as well
Adios Dearly Beloved.