One hundred years of Samosas
A gripping tale of family fortunes destroyed, lives rebuilt over and over, arthritic fingers, the quest for perfect triangles of crispy, spicy, delicousness, fraud and a death under fishy circumstances.
The end is the start. Again
(A thread)
A gripping tale of family fortunes destroyed, lives rebuilt over and over, arthritic fingers, the quest for perfect triangles of crispy, spicy, delicousness, fraud and a death under fishy circumstances.
The end is the start. Again
(A thread)
The First
Everyday at 4am, Raju in a Kaunda suit stuffs his car with fresh bread. Balancing on the seat is trays of Mama's spicy beef samosas, a treat for his fave customers
He drives the bumpy winding road at the edge of Ngorongoro Crater making deliveries outside of Arusha
Everyday at 4am, Raju in a Kaunda suit stuffs his car with fresh bread. Balancing on the seat is trays of Mama's spicy beef samosas, a treat for his fave customers
He drives the bumpy winding road at the edge of Ngorongoro Crater making deliveries outside of Arusha
The End of the First
1967: The Arusha Declaration - Tanzania Nationalises
Raju stuffs the family into their orange VW. They leave behind a bakery, home & beloved memories.
They drive to Kenya, where Mama is from.
They take only clothes & Mama's recipe for spicy beef samosas
1967: The Arusha Declaration - Tanzania Nationalises
Raju stuffs the family into their orange VW. They leave behind a bakery, home & beloved memories.
They drive to Kenya, where Mama is from.
They take only clothes & Mama's recipe for spicy beef samosas
They Start Over The First Time
Mombasa.
The heat interferes with Mama's dexterity and she can't make the samosas as fast as she used to. The humidity makes her dress stick in places she doesn't want it to stick to.
Raju loves the ocean.
WIth a partner they open a bakery
Mombasa.
The heat interferes with Mama's dexterity and she can't make the samosas as fast as she used to. The humidity makes her dress stick in places she doesn't want it to stick to.
Raju loves the ocean.
WIth a partner they open a bakery
The End Of The First Start
Mombasa
Every morning, Raju opens the oven doors. The fresh bread emerges laced with green mould. Raju is convinced the bakery is haunted.
They sell & flee the ghosts of the Ocean that carries their dead ancestors.
Mombasa
Every morning, Raju opens the oven doors. The fresh bread emerges laced with green mould. Raju is convinced the bakery is haunted.
They sell & flee the ghosts of the Ocean that carries their dead ancestors.
The Second Life
Nairobi.
In their small home, stuffed to the rafters with relatives, Mama enlists everyone to help with stuffing the samosas that they sell to order.
The house smells of fried onions and spice.
Mama has one small bottle of Anais Anais she sniffs for relief.
Nairobi.
In their small home, stuffed to the rafters with relatives, Mama enlists everyone to help with stuffing the samosas that they sell to order.
The house smells of fried onions and spice.
Mama has one small bottle of Anais Anais she sniffs for relief.
One thin pastry after the other, one samosa after another, the young couple build their lives.
All their children become experts at filling the samosas. Mama is a tough teacher. The pastry must be perfectly sealed to stop the hot oil from leaking into the carefully mixed beef
All their children become experts at filling the samosas. Mama is a tough teacher. The pastry must be perfectly sealed to stop the hot oil from leaking into the carefully mixed beef
Raju and Shirin (Mama) open a canteen in Industrial Area.
On the morning they go to look at the space, they see a long long long giraffe ambling by the roadside.
Taking the gentle creature as an omen, they call their canteen Giraffe Snack Bar.
On the morning they go to look at the space, they see a long long long giraffe ambling by the roadside.
Taking the gentle creature as an omen, they call their canteen Giraffe Snack Bar.
Over the years, the young men working around the area come to love Mama's spicy samosas.
Every evening she lays the dining table at home with piles of thin pastry, and in a flurry of mastery, she fills hundreds of samosas, ready for the rush the next day.
Every evening she lays the dining table at home with piles of thin pastry, and in a flurry of mastery, she fills hundreds of samosas, ready for the rush the next day.
The young couple buy a home.
Mama starts being able to get her hair done by a hairdresser. With her eyes squeezed shut, she smiles when it is time for the hairspray. Anything to change the smell of fried onions that lingers to her.
She can't get her nails done though....
Mama starts being able to get her hair done by a hairdresser. With her eyes squeezed shut, she smiles when it is time for the hairspray. Anything to change the smell of fried onions that lingers to her.
She can't get her nails done though....
People from all over East Africa visit for the samosas.
My dad, a young man in polytechnic wants to be adventuring and playing hockey.
Instead he has to stand at the Canteen in his free time.
He complains that when he tries to talk to girls, he smells of fried onions.
My dad, a young man in polytechnic wants to be adventuring and playing hockey.
Instead he has to stand at the Canteen in his free time.
He complains that when he tries to talk to girls, he smells of fried onions.
Hundreds of thousands (possibly even millions) of samosas later....
I am 6 years old. At the dining table I watch Mama & Raju's magic fingers.
The pile of perfect triangles grows.
Next to me is a mound of misshapen lumpy parcels masquerading as samosas.
I am trying to learn
I am 6 years old. At the dining table I watch Mama & Raju's magic fingers.
The pile of perfect triangles grows.
Next to me is a mound of misshapen lumpy parcels masquerading as samosas.
I am trying to learn
I am 9 years old.
Raju declares me an expert! It is school holidays and my sister and I join in the samosa filling every day.
It is fun and I love the way the flour/water glue cakes onto my fingers.
When mum fries the samosas I have filled, I feel so proud I want to burst
Raju declares me an expert! It is school holidays and my sister and I join in the samosa filling every day.
It is fun and I love the way the flour/water glue cakes onto my fingers.
When mum fries the samosas I have filled, I feel so proud I want to burst
It is Boxing Day.
We get a call to say someone has destroyed Giraffe Snack Bar.
We know who. A Big Man whose name we can't say out loud because we don't want to be disappeared. He wants the land.
The canteen lies in a heap of rubble.
Everything destroyed
Just like that
We get a call to say someone has destroyed Giraffe Snack Bar.
We know who. A Big Man whose name we can't say out loud because we don't want to be disappeared. He wants the land.
The canteen lies in a heap of rubble.
Everything destroyed
Just like that
I am tingly from my first kiss.
I just met the boy who I will end up marrying. I am floating, oblivious to the sorrow around me.
For the next 10 years Raju will fight the case in the courts, but Big Men always win over Small Men.
He gets a pittance
But they have savings
I just met the boy who I will end up marrying. I am floating, oblivious to the sorrow around me.
For the next 10 years Raju will fight the case in the courts, but Big Men always win over Small Men.
He gets a pittance
But they have savings
My father says, Daddy, now it is my turn to look after you. You and Mama rest.
And so Raju and Mama rest.
Mama's fingers start becoming arthritic from the years of folding samosas.
Raju still bakes until the moon jumps into his left eye turning it milky molten and useless.
And so Raju and Mama rest.
Mama's fingers start becoming arthritic from the years of folding samosas.
Raju still bakes until the moon jumps into his left eye turning it milky molten and useless.
My parents build their lives.
Mama goes to the hairdresser every month. Her skin no longer smells of fried onions.
Raju lotions his skin with an array of potions. How nice it is to smell nice.
My parents work long hours. The family's joint savings grow.
Mama goes to the hairdresser every month. Her skin no longer smells of fried onions.
Raju lotions his skin with an array of potions. How nice it is to smell nice.
My parents work long hours. The family's joint savings grow.
It is time to retire.
A lifetime of being careful and some luck means there is enough put away for the parents and grandparents not to have to rely on their children.
With this knoweldge, their children are freed to make selfish life choices.
I end up as a writer.
A lifetime of being careful and some luck means there is enough put away for the parents and grandparents not to have to rely on their children.
With this knoweldge, their children are freed to make selfish life choices.
I end up as a writer.
October 2015
Imperial Bank.
We wake up one morning, and discover that everything is gone.
Everything.
Three generations of life savings.
Millions of samosas worth of work.
Only the 1000 bob in my wallet is left.
Friends lend us money for electricity and bread.
Imperial Bank.
We wake up one morning, and discover that everything is gone.
Everything.
Three generations of life savings.
Millions of samosas worth of work.
Only the 1000 bob in my wallet is left.
Friends lend us money for electricity and bread.
I write about it
chanyado.wordpress.com/2015/11/12/ope…
Secretly we are hopeful.
There's no way that it can just disappear like that.
There's no way suited thieves can just steal money like that.
No way.
O So Foolish
I forgot.
Kenya
chanyado.wordpress.com/2015/11/12/ope…
Secretly we are hopeful.
There's no way that it can just disappear like that.
There's no way suited thieves can just steal money like that.
No way.
O So Foolish
I forgot.
Kenya
4 years later.
Imperial Bank remains a fuckery.
In this country, this economy, like most people, the hustle is real.
So we start again.
We aren't afraid of starting again.
We have started again many times.
It's time for the smell of fried onions to seep into our skin again.
Imperial Bank remains a fuckery.
In this country, this economy, like most people, the hustle is real.
So we start again.
We aren't afraid of starting again.
We have started again many times.
It's time for the smell of fried onions to seep into our skin again.
So with great delight, we are resurrecting Mama's famous spicy beef samosas, and doing the thing we know to do.
Samosa by samosa, we are rebuilding a life once again.
Slide into my DMs if you'd like to place an order.
(End of thread)
Samosa by samosa, we are rebuilding a life once again.
Slide into my DMs if you'd like to place an order.
(End of thread)
