Love Gastronomy.

This article is a dedication to a small WhatsApp group of four people called _Big Bang Theory_ Little idiots must rely on their uncle for love advice. But I can’t tire because I am awesome like that.



Courtesy by the artidote

One day, you gain a ton of Courage out of the blue, or inebriation, or just some animal instincts and you decide against all logical judgement running through your brain, that you want to profess your undying love, a love so deep and complex it has you sleep deprived for the last so many weeks. Folks out here are weird I tell you …

I am not sure why we love, or why love is the most powerful thing in the world. A certain Chef, called Ana Ros, Siberia’s only Gastronomy Chef, and one of the world greatest chefs without a Michelin star because her country is just a nascent little piece of geography recently rising, said some lovely words in that almighty fantastic program, CHEFS TABLE ON NETFLIX;

Love is crucial. If we don’t have love, it’s difficult to work well. And in the kitchen, that is extremely important. When one is loved, she can create better. There is more passion. More beautiful thoughts. Because of love we do nice things, and because of love, sometimes we create catastrophes. – Chef’s and I cannot say this enough, are poets. Ill share this line of thought better some other day time.

The day you confess your love, or if you already have confessed, weird thoughts might have run through your mind moments before, especially if you were hoping that your sins may be forgiven with kisses and tears and “yes, I have been waiting for you to tell me this” kind of vibe.

If, for some reason, you professed your love to some untested waters, and by untested, I mean, your telepathy cannot with certainty predict a lovely outcome, here are the scenarios you shall face or have already faced.

First scenario is that she will become excited for various reasons apart from what you expect, or it could be what you expect if you are lucky. So, after a few days, or a few minutes, it depends with how dramatic you guys are, she shall serve you either of these responses.

First response, Wow, look, that’s lovely, but I just cannot bring myself to reciprocate your love, I have never in my fickle life imagined loving you anywhere and I doubt I would love you even if we were in heaven or hell. – Here you shall wonder why you spend so much time together then? But, the good news is that you shall soon realize you loved the wrong person and you resume your friendzone, platonic little world of lust. Which is okay, it happens at times.

Second response, Wow, look, that’s lovely, I think that is extremely flattering especially because I have never imagined you falling in love with me, wa wa wa, okay, this is overwhelming. But you know what, lets keep doing all manner of shit. I am not promising anything, but we can hang out, warm up to each other, become best friends and see how that goes, lets see what comes of it. We are not dating but let’s do these things and see what works or doesn’t.

Third response, Wow, Look, that’s Lovely, I mean goodness, really? Are you even serious or just pulling a leg? Okay I am shocked, not in a bad way, but I am. What happens now, because I mean, I really like you as a person and a close friend you know. I do not want to lose you, please don’t do this to me. How about we do all manner of stuff, hang out as usual, but please accept we can’t date, because I can’t date you, can’t say is it fairer than that, I don’t think I can, Please?

Fourth response, Really? Holy Shit! Really dear? Wow, I mean, wow, I have waited for you to tell me this for so long. I mean what? Come here you ……. (Whatever happens after this may lead to Marriage at some point if you are unlucky, if you are lucky you may avoid marriage).

The Second scenario doesn’t have many responses, it only has one resolute, cold, inconsiderate, loud, heart wrecking response.

The fuck? You are in love with who? Please, stop this madness. How? Are you even listening to yourself right now? Look here, you are lost as shit, I am not your type, and by the way, I think you are sick or you are watching crazy shit, please take a minute and look at yourself, I am not here to be loved by people like you, and please let me never get hold of you telling people who we are acquainted to or not that you are in love with me, because I cannot handle such embarrassment. Please never call, I can’t deal. (At least she did you the courtesy of generously using the word please in her loud outburst)

Ana Ros……, and because of love, sometimes we create catastrophes

I have prepared you sufficiently, in case you decide to try untested waters. By the way, if you get either a second, third or fourth response. Employ your A game fast, your life will suddenly have changed somehow.


Friendships that Flicker and Japan’s Sex Problem.


Enter a capThe Artidote
Page Liked · January 23 · 
Question of the day: 
“Is it possible not to hurt others in the process of personal growth? Because too often the line between self-love and selfishness becomes blurry.” —Anonymous
artwork by Masato Tsuchiya

No human being should find themselves in a position of begging for friendships, but sometimes it happens when all you have got is possibly two close ones that would trigger a heart ache if they elevated or demoted themselves, however you would like to see it, to a class higher or lower to your proffered friendship.

I was watching sometime back on TED about a research that was conducted to figure out the determinant factor of how long you will live on this earth. Placing everything on the table, including but not limited to alcohol, sex, smoking, exercise, healthy eating, poverty, richness etc. The researchers were dumfounded to discover that the foremost and the most dominant factor for your longevity is social structure. The friends you have, people you talk to daily, and the number of times you meet to have fun.

Another poignant study concluded that loneliness kills thirteen times faster than smoking.

Pondering on this data, one thing comes to mind that everyone just wants to be loved. Simple and straightforward. It is then rather unfortunate that we sometimes hurt albeit unawares people that would love to be close to us.

How did the world get to this? A situation that now calls for a country like Britain to create a new Cabinet position and appoint a loneliness minister. Maybe, Britain was just brave enough to admit that something is not right. Far east In Japan, they now have a tricky situation at hand, they have high suicide rates and the experts suggest that it is due to life pressures, meanwhile news coming from that same conduit say that Japan has a sex problem. Young people are not having sex and as a result birth rates have declined, I think there is a correlation here. Mind you, the west has been known to have relatively low birth rates, but not occasioning from a sex problem like Japan, in the west it is more of a choice and at the end of it all Japan shall cite loneliness and in-ability to make new friendships that lead to romantic relationships as the cause of this social problem.

By the way African countries, or shit hole countries, or whatever we fancy calling ourselves are not devoid of loneliness. It is only that sometimes, between searching for bread and the ever-elusive money to survive, while at the same time stomaching corruption, we push issues such as loneliness and lack of social structures at the dragon’s tail. We are somehow lucky that Africa has a DNA of coming together as a people since the beginning. But at the rate we are changing as a society, friendships better begin to matter or else …

As I ponder on this mind-boggling data, I am reminded that late last year I lost a whopping mega amount of old friendships, a situation that arose from incompatibility, tastelessness, mutually exclusive life journeys and unsurmountable shenanigans and currently I am holding on a thread of only a few people who if they slipped through my fingers I might easily slump into depression or something closely related.

But how did it get into this. At the core of who we are, friendships are critical support structures that reach at the roots of our souls. Is it because friendships are least understood, or they are not respected enough by some parties within them or there is just too much judgement within and without.

Sometimes you try too desperately to love a friend and they work hard to frustrate you and maybe they just reach out when it suits them or other times we peg friendships on something material such as a car or something.

Friendships are meant to be easy, full of humour, awesome drama, disturbances such as raiding friends fridges, bags and make shift pantries just so because, hang outs, emotional support, pure genuine love, warmness, closeness, roasts and everything else that tickles a bone.

Over a glass of Juice, wine or whisky with friends, there you realise what it means to live.

This post is simply me pondering and if you would love to have a sit down with me over whisky as we talk more on what maketh a human being I’ll be glad, just drop a line.

What do you think of friendships yourself? Comment.  On the next article we shall explore further on this issue



Poverty Porn – A New Prison for African Writers

A critic brings knowledge, taste, and meaningful judgement to a piece of work. The three elements imply that a critic cannot be neutral – to judge is to move away from the line of neutrality, and this is why critics are important. By consistently portraying the courage to have their judgments presented publicly, they become an authority, gatekeepers in a field. They are choosing ‘preferred literature’ to their audiences, and justifying their choice.

They are activists in a way, and done longer enough, a certain preference begins to emerge, a preference for a certain kind of book, a certain kind of literature, of art. Places that have few, major critics, the ‘superstar’ critics, risk having access to only a few approved choices. Since knowledge feeds on itself, and people tend to pursue few definable positions, a society needs many critics in order to have access to a diversity of approved…

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Dear Jessica : Remember Tomorrow


IMG_5427Portrait shot on the streets of Lamu – April 2017 

8th October 2017

Dear Jessica;

Some todays are like freshly baked buttery cinnamon rolls; pleasant to the senses. The orchestra of glazed crispy dough, melted cinnamon sugar and raisins as they swirl in your mouth is all so perfect. On those today’s; you bask in love and light; and you wish those todays would last forever.

Some todays are like Thorn Melon; cultivated in the depths of  Hades. You have no time to savor nor describe their taste and texture.  The faster they end, the better. My todays the past week were the latter. Long, stressful, tiring, unpleasant.

On days like those, I like to reflect on the tragedy that is life and its different todays.  I have lived through a lot of those todays. Todays that were batshit crazy and  you felt like calling it quits there and then…

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My friends say something is wrong with me.

I have this flaw that drives them up to the wall, infuriates them and it seems I am the only one who cannot seem to see it.

It was really a beautiful day before it all went down the gutters. Now, am knee deep in the murk of my mind trying to figure out what’s this thing that I have got that makes people so mad at me.

This ought to be my very first, 1000 words project and it had better be worthwhile and feel good.

Apparently, I do not get things. Shit is clear right in front of me and it just flows on by. Or maybe am on my menses and am just over-reacting, again.

I really have no idea what is happening around me right now. I wish people would just speak up and not expect me to…

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Troy Onyango

La shamba

The Transfiguration

I am thinking of how to tell my mother that she is a bad woman; that she did not raise me well. The woman with a bleached face and knuckles blacker than the tip of a quill told me so. “The matters of a husband and wife you leave to them. You don’t interfere. Didn’t your mother teach you that? Go tell her to raise you again. No wonder you behave like a woman. Mscheeeew!” She yelled from the window of her apartment which is right above mine. Apartment 4B. I had gone to save her from her husband’s daily beating. Despite all that pounding, the woman didn’t want me to intervene. You don’t save someone who doesn’t want to be saved, mother used to say.

I sit, pen in hand. My palms are sweaty. As my trembling hand presses the pen against the paper, my life cascades…

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