Goat Days

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The first time I met Sophie Gitonga she was attending my Second Creative Writing Masterclass, early this year. The odd ones always stand out in a room. First day, before the class commenced, as we all milled around the tea and pastry canteen, dropping our lemons slices in our reumy teas, I noticed her boots first before I noticed her; this rich brown leather that crawled up her legs stopping just below her knees. She had natty dreadlocks and this viscerally controlled wilderness aura about her. She looked unhinged. Unbordered. Unearthed. Like she didn’t give a shit. I thought to myself, “She must be a poet or those chicks who paint shells.” So I walked up to say “karibu” and then I asked her what she did for a living and she said deadpan: “ I stick things in men’s mouths and make them say “ahh.”  

I stirred my tea, thoughtfully.

She’s a forensic scientist. Bachelors in Chemistry, California, State University, Masters in Forensic science, University of California, Davis, sijui a mediation course she did at Strathmore Dispute Resolution Center. People go to school. She has held workshops for our own police officers and in areas of crime scene management, and to lawyers on Forensic science and the law. Nothing on shell painting. “If you suspect your kid isn’t yours and you want a DNA done, l’m your girl,” she told me, with a sunset smile, “I sometimes  meet men in dark parking lots, carrying pieces of hair or nails. ”

I liked her. She was dark.

And she could write. Her writing voice was buried in mounds of insecurity, indiscipline and doubt. But it was there, a diamond in the rough.

After the classes I asked her what she would like to master in writing and she said food because she likes to eat and to go out and to try out the new stuff. For months now we have been working on identifying her right “voice” in which to write about food. Tweaking it. Changing it. Garnishing it. Testing it. Pushing it. Having fun with it. And now she is ready.

This piece , like all the pieces you will read from her here, is more than just about food. It’s about passion and love and about a goat. But most importantly it’s about a man (hers) and his space and the things that he brings to this space to make it uniquely his. It’s about a dying culture of men who work with their hands, men who make things, men who create an extensions of themselves through the beautiful work of their hands. We just don’t get dirty anymore, do we, gentlemen?  

You can see in this piece how what this guy does seem to have diminished her; how  she is limited to only standing on the fringes of this intense and private enclosure, craning to look in, reduced only to offering unsolicited commentaries. And even though she thinks he has let her inside this shrine, he hasn’t. Not quite. She still remains an immigrant of this moment. And therein lies the genius of this man, and, indeed, of this writer to capture it so elegantly and with such a clear and confident voice.

Check out this beatific excerpt: “Then he prepares the onions, garlic and ginger, all the while donning his swimming goggles because the onions get him all emotional. This guy cracks me up.”

I haven’t read a paragraph that peels off the spirit of a character with such earnest and tenderness than that excerpt. It melts in your mouth.

Gang, this is our resident foodie, Sophie.

Sophie, this kitchen is yours. Burn it.

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By Sophie Gitonga.

Thursday is goat night at our house, he declared it so, and so it is. He cooks on goat night so, why pray tell, would the lady dost protest too much?

Our first encounter wasn’t over food though, but the dance floor. The salsa music was pounding out of the speakers and our hearts throbbed in unison. I noticed him before he did me. A beguiling chic magnet, given the number of women he twirled and discarded on the dance floor. He walked up to me and asked me to dance. I pretended not to know how. We swayed this way and that, held me at the small of my back  and breathed in my ear as he held me close. I love how salsa allows for intimacy between total strangers while all the time maintaining strict politeness. Our next encounter was over food. He asked me how I liked my eggs and I replied, ‘unfertilized’. He broke into this wickedly good smile with all his little white teeth neatly arranged in a row. And as he cracked my eggs open and whipped them into oblivion I knew I was smitten. I was in deep smit.

Then there is the goat. Which is his ritual, of sorts.

He gets so delighted by the prospect of cooking goat that he drives to Ruaka to his butcher. That’s where he bought meat as a bachelor so they have a relationship.  Early in our courtship we agreed that we should each stick to doing the things we did best. That meant that I’d buy my own tampons and he would buy the meat, that way we’d save each other the humiliation of buying the wrong stuff. Buying meat is a manly enterprise, he grew up slaughtering animals on his family farm so he knows all about meat. And oh so particular, the meat-to-bone ratio has to be just right; the fat distribution just so, a joy of his own making that I will never take away.

When he gets home, he plops the meat on the counter and gets to prepping his knives. Yes, he has his own knives. He brought them to the relationship. He goes on and on about how they are masterfully created, the blade and handle a single piece of steel. His knife kit, butcher knives, boning knives and cleaver are stored on the wall- mounted magnetic strip he installed especially for his collection. What’s missing is overhead gallery LED lights for these knives. I’m surprised he hasn’t thought of that. He used to get his knives sharpened by this guy who comes round the estate offering the service, but he felt that guy did not show the right amount of enthusiasm for knife sharpening. So he bought his own whetstone so he could do it himself, whenever he wanted to. I once remarked that he could have saved money by using the pumice stone I use to scrub my feet. He gave me this look that said, ‘you are foolish, get away from me’. I grinned. He whets his blade with a rhythmic motion, stopping to check the sharpness by gingerly running his finger along the blade. He’s in the zone, I could pick his pockets and he mightn’t notice it. I want to be that knife in his hands.

With his knives sharpened he stares at his reflection in the gleaming blade. What is he thinking about? I prod him and he tells me he had a memory of his grandfather teaching him how to skin a goat. It requires both a sharp knife and skill. A fool with a sharp knife leaves you with a patchy goat.

He passes the blade through the meat and the flesh falls away without resistance. “Look at that”, he says and I congratulate him for his prowess by fixing him a drink. He didn’t drink much before he met me. I ruined him, he says, a fact that I’m proud of.

When he started drinking proper, he did so at the bottom of the barrel, tried and shockingly enjoyed all sorts of rubbish before he refined his tastes. Now his hierarchy of preference is whisky, wine and beer. Whisky is his truest love. He dresses up for whisky. A double shot of single malt and two cubes of ice, never more. He likes the non-phonetic Scottish brands, Caol Ila and Laphroaig. I like the challenge of trying to say them.

Goat night is also cheap thrills night so I’m substituting the whisky for Konyagi, tonic with mint infused lemon syrup. We discovered Konyagi about two years ago during a season of epic broke-ness between us when the whisky and wine were out of reach. By the way, this shit has a happy ending, we’ve polished a bottle once and woken up fresh and hangie-free like we’d spent the day at the spa. So don’t knock it.

Now he’s taken the cleaver to clean the bones and the tendons, these will go into the soup, another thing exclusively prepared by men…three cheers to gender specific roles! the meat goes into the sufuria and cooks over medium heat to expel the water. Then he prepares the onions, garlic and ginger, all the while donning his swimming goggles because the onions get him all emotional. This guy cracks me up.

He checks the meat and stirs occasionally, freeing it from the bottom of the sufuria. With all the water gone, he adds his condiments and a little bit of oil. The aroma is magnificent, salt, pepper and a dash of cumin follow suit. It will be done in 5, he declares to no one in particular. While we wait, he pulls me in and we do a little sensual jig to Tshala Muana’s Lekele Muadi. We are going to burn down the entire complex with all the sultriness up in here.

The water for the ugali has now come to a boil. He puts his sinewy muscles to work, deftly stirring and whipping the flour, explaining the process to me because he hopes someday I’ll take over this role permanently. As he cooks, I sneak in a Konyagi ripened kiss…I love goat night. He prepares the kachumbari with extra tomatoes – he knows how much I love tomatoes. We serve up our ugali, goat and kachumbari, say a little prayer because you know, it’s proper to do so and then we dig in.

If you meet a guy who enjoys cooking and will do it for you, marry him, fast! You can worry about the details later.

The meat is so tender I could swallow it whole without chewing, the ugali the right softness. We noisily suck the marrow out of the hollow bones, that’s dessert right there and how we enjoy it. He asks me what I think and I say, the same thing I think every Thursday: he’s truly the best maker of goat that ever lived.

Home cooked meals for us are an absolute expression of love. My cooking is inspired by whims and dares. I read recipes once, get the general idea of what is required and go on to make my own version of it. He enjoys my fearless cooking.  His cooking on the other hand is methodical and deliberate. He plans everything and it’s in the planning that I reminded of his exquisite happiness in being my man. He feels both useful and needed, important these days since women can pretty much do everything for themselves now… well almost everything. I also need him to kill all the insects in our house.

But beyond that, the Thursday night ritual is about the time we spend together, the stories and smooches we trade, the winks he gives me while we eat. I love his goat.

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241 Comments
    1. What are you teaching in these classes Biko? Women are now making love with words! I must sign up and put my madness to work

  1. “He asked me how I liked my eggs and I replied, ‘unfertilized’.” I didn’t see this coming. Sophie, welcome to the gang.

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  2. Good piece but I find men who can cook well terribly intimidating. If he stamps his authority in the kitchen, where will I plant my flag? Give me a man whose only skill is boiling water any day.

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  3. If you meet a guy who enjoys cooking and will do it for you, marry him, fast! You can worry about the details later.

    Nice!

    Well that word a bit mundane but lets not act too excited!

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  4. “…Then he prepares the onions, garlic and ginger, all the while donning his swimming goggles because the onions get him all emotional. This guy cracks me up.” and now this cracked me up too, welcome Sophie

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  5. Now this guest-writing I like. Very much! The imagery is amazing. Great work with Susan, Biko!
    That phrase on liking your eggs unfertilized-ingenious! I be using it someday soon 😀

  6. You got me loving his goat too,and no shame about the konyagi here its our Tanzania vodka and I inherit Russian traditions. I’m definitely looking forward to more of your writing Sophie

  7. I loved it . Solo tantalizingly sweet n mellow. Yeah give me such a man. It’s the little things that matter to some of us….. “yes like killing insects” 🙂

  8. I loved it . Soooo tantalizingly sweet n mellow.Yesu give me such a man. It’s the little things that matter to some of us….. “yes like killing insects” 🙂

    1. There are in plenty,go to Kitengela,Eastern by pass,oletipis and olepolos and you will be unsure which man to pick since they all roast very good goat ribs

  9. I have met Sophie…I didn’t know you are a creative genius as well aside from DNA extraction, purification and processing etc etc …this is beautifully written. I love it.

  10. Writing and Writing well! …Drives to Ruaka to his butcher! talk of commitment! Hope you don’t live in Ruai! Sophie, the piece is beautiful!

  11. It’s not really about the goat meat but the passion she has for the man preparing it. This piece would make a vegetarian rethink their decision. Big up! Perfect piece

  12. I got a guy friend who cooks so well and will always send me pics of the foods he has made with these funny names in the recipes. I always tell myself I can never cook for him at any time because he is so good at it mpaka am not so sure he would enjoy mine. Anyway this is an interesting piece Sophie. I would like to read more and more from you. Monday made!

  13. I have never enjoyed a food review like I did this one! This article is truly a masterpiece. You clearly got your dime’s worth from the writing Masterclass. Looking forward to more of your posts.

  14. Oh, joy! The day has come when Biko has made a typo. I always suspected he was human, but now I’m certain of it. Thank you for bringing hope to all of us bad spellers out here, now we can finally have dreams of greatness.

  15. I was reading your intro and thinking this is how it starts, such a great intro and then the guest writer will take it to the drains with every word they write. But this was an absolutely delicious read. Looking forward to more pieces from Sophie.

    1. Biko is a seasoned writer, the rest are honing their skills. Let’s give them support & constructive criticism. But yes, he remains unbeaten in descriptive writing and captivating intros!

  16. For a moment i was certain this is going to be a dead boring article since its about food, but it has turned out to be a nice read. I like her blend of culinary and expression of love.

  17. A true diamond in the rough….. true Sophie likes writing about food coz she loves the aura her man brings along every goat night…. or its every single day! Kudos Sophie

  18. Sophie..Great writing. I only ask if we can discuss that goat recipe a lil bit more. I make a mean goat dry fry too with all ‘his’ spices + rosemary & oregano. And now thanks to you I know to wear swimming googles when cutting onions so I don’t cry myself silly .

  19. Can’t wait to read more of this Sophie… And true, who does not love a guy that knows his way with kitchen stuff… Thou shall never hunger

  20. Am getting wiered stares at the banking hall for laughing out loud at ‘i like them unferterlised’ this is a bud after my heart.

  21. Sophie, I could hear the sound of those knives being sharpened. I could smell the goat. I can’t wait to experience more of your writing.

  22. Welcome, Sophie (my unborn daughter shares your name). I have loved your writing more than I have ever loved any of the guest writers’ here on.
    Way to go!

  23. Biko thanks!! Now you are talking! Sophie just made my monday. Great topic love filled kitchen and I can taste the goat! More please…

  24. Woow! Maybe I am the only Forensic who reads and cannot write. I love her already and can’t wait for the next article

  25. The best guest post since ‘India’. Keep it up, Sophie, because now the Gang will kill you with the burden of expectations.
    Enjoy the ‘right now’ with that chap. 5 years from now, when the eggs have become fertilized and the brats are all over, he will call on Thursday evening, being ‘held back in an urgent meeting’and it you will die inside because you will know for sure he is late preparing the goat for Christine. And then you will stick things in his mouth and make him say “Ahh”. And it will not be funny anymore.

  26. I have read this so delicately wishing it didn’t have to end. I love her writing…absolutely. Thanks Bikozulu for introducing Sophie to us.

  27. The whole essay is good I have only noticed one thing that Sophie and her man loathe veges. I really looked for vegetables in that menu but only saw tomatoes which only takes care of the heart and how about your skin, eyes, and rashes. Encourage yourselves to start partaking green leafy vegetables. You will reap a million benefits from them.

      1. Those kind of technology are only good while they last. Try and picture yourself in your sunset days, how will your skin and entire body be. It’s said that take care of your body now so that the body takes care of you in old age

  28. It’s like this was written for me…If you meet a guy who enjoys cooking and will do it for you, marry him, fast! You can worry about the details later. Nice piece…and thanks for the advice hehe

  29. the onions got her man emotional unfertilized egg etc but there is nothing exceptionally for a goat skinned and tendered by your man of the moment.i am not doing any marketing for any body but if you ask around the facility is very much in vogue.i can only appreciate your creativity with biko in your next episode but for a woman used to tell men say aah i hope there will be more to rivet my attention than this piece has done.

  30. Yah good piece. Now, I do cook, but I do not know why a number of ladies I’ve met feel insecure with guys who prepare better meals than them. Are they intimidated? Ladies.

  31. Lovely read. Sophisticated can get you hungry in a heart beat. A man who can cook is a gem and a turn on and boiling an egg does not count. Those writing classes are really something

  32. I love men who are foodies..and foodies that can actually cook at that.my guy has ruined other men for me.wasnt that into him till he fed me.I’m 5kgs heavier.BT those r details…

  33. wow! what a great and unique write. I haven’t heard a Biko voice in it. That means Masterclass objectives achieved! Thumbs up man! Wow Sophie. See u on Wednesday for the Fourth. cheerz

  34. Good writing Sophie! You almost convinced me to give goat meat a second chance but no way. I dislike goat kabisa kabisa. Now nyama ya kondoo hmmm soft and tamu zaidi

  35. Nooo! The story ended to fast… no.. She must continue next week. I felt like I knew him, the knives, the goat. I could picture everything, set, the house, all propped. Felt like i was sophie the foodie.. Beautiful

  36. For a moment I fumbled for the “Like” button up there to no avail. Blame it on too much FB. Nice debut into the Zulu kingdom. Me like your free spirit girl. Go! Go!

  37. .. .”A fool with a sharp knife leaves you with a patchy goat”..I think this should be a proverb..and all say Amen!. Biko erokamo…BTW, jadudi is back in oyugis…blessings are made of this

  38. Well written. Kudos to you Biko for helping her find her voice and for givivng her a chance to feature here. Well done Sophie.

  39. This is a blog that I always look upto for what one can do if they decide to better their craft without minding the applause and hullabaloo from the crowd. Sophie writes smoothly and will indeed make a polished food writer. Biko, the intro was on point

  40. Sophie I loved it, simple I know but no better way to say it btw I like my egg’s unfertilised too.wea did you get a man that can cook I want one too

  41. Aish Biko I need your classes in Mombasa. I have a very comical side that I want to explore. Infact I want to write a book “th devil lives in mtwapa.”

  42. Thank you for the recipe. I’m already doing my goat that way, minus the knives foreplay. That one I leave to my butcher!

  43. Welcome to the gang Sophie….
    Just so u know this crowd has Ugandans too, so brace yourself for better shine

  44. An amiable piece that celebrates marriage!Such are few and far between in the media nowadays. Looking forward to reading more from Sophie.The talent is evident.

  45. I am sure if I tried that goat recipe it would not turn out the same, a great piece Sophie and happy goat eating Thursdays, may they last forever!

  46. ‘I want to be that knife in his hands’….Damn girl!!! I love this piece….beyond the amazing cooking, this piece was just oozing with passion…I love it!!! keep writing sophie

  47. Hehe Biko nice piece had a similar experience but we did it together….her the meat and spinach(salted with an add of lemon) as I dwelve in Ugali my fav….exceptional experience….brings out the emotions of the night

  48. This is one right here forced a comment out of me,of all the guest pieces this one takes the lead!!!Sophie this is Spectacular.

  49. Thanks Sophie for that piece.Very relaxing and funny and being the first item on my “to read ” list I am charged up and my liking for goat meat just went up…i can’t wait for thursday night, and Biko big up too this is a truely balanced diet.Kudos!

  50. Biko, can you tell Mr. Mwiti to add a ‘like’ button for the comments, some comments here are just hillarious and wity, they need to be ‘like’, hehe

  51. mmmmh…delicious.
    ladies leteni masikio hapa…If you meet a guy who enjoys cooking and will do it for you, marry him, fast! You can worry about the details later.

  52. of all guest writers she is my favouritest (if there is such a word anyway). I am a lady and was brought up in the countryside. I can make an equally tasty goat.

  53. Biko, forget about this Migingo thing for once and bring this Writing Masterclass to Kampala for the sake of the EAC!!!

  54. Wow! Master Biko this subject has done you proud. Cheers! Welcome Sophie, You killed this one. Wherever I go whatever I do I will always find time to read you blog Biko. I thank God for my friend for having introduced me to this blog. I think the articles I do on my blog www.heremyinkdrops.wordpress.com need the kind of lush this blog’s articles exhibit. How do I join your master class Biko?

  55. Wow! This is an great piece. Sophie makes someone who is not a meat fan want to have meat. Biko I love your guest bloggers 🙂

  56. I liked Biko’s intro more, especial the first encounter with Sophie. By the way i still plan to take that writing masterclass too, soon. So help me God.

  57. Biko you’re the best man….keeping us up to date with good stuff from other amazing people around. that’s positive energy. big up brother!!