Picture credit: Wangari Mungai.
Before we begin:
I just found this out, but a “costermonger” is a street seller of fruits and vegetables. ie. Mama mboga. It sounds so pretentious though. Imagine saying that to people: “I’m going to get some dhania from the costermonger at the corner.”
Oh, so Mary is the lady who sold us veggies, aka mama mboga. A few days ago, city council officers tore down her stall and the stalls of the two other mama mbogas at that corner. I’m not quite sure why; when I asked Mary said something like: “you know, when the city council comes they will always find something that you’re doing wrong.” The three of them have put their stalls back together but are being really careful to have only a small selection of vegetables out. You can see the texture of unfinishedness in their construction; for instance, the vegetables are held up by broken rocks stacked one upon the other.
By the way, despite my every effort to up the evening’s rachetness via very deliberately and insistently played Rihanna, most of us ended up spending the evening in a food coma: listening to a lot of mellow music, playing Mafia and falling asleep. Not the night I’d been hoping for but it’s all right– I’m hoping that my well fed people ended up painting the town red in their dreams.