Nyama na Njaama ya Wajama
In a hit or miss game, I chanced to text brother Wajama, the executive director of Seed Savers Network. We were in close proximity but had no appointment. I have been in contact with Wanjama for a while and have previously attempted to collaborate on a brief residency but life happened around that endeavor and the idea was postponed until a time when we had no formal plans.
The meeting happened after Wajama replied to my text informing him that I was in his neck of the woods. The reply was in one: “Karibu”.
We then headed to the location hoping to just say hello and a brief introduction. Upon arrival we learned that Wajama was in a meeting. His assistant informed him of our arrival and he soon emerged from a meeting with a big smile. Wajama recommended a brief tour and an invitation for me to speak briefly to the assembled group holding the meeting. It was brief alright.
Almost two hours later, we left with smiling faces, seeds, seedlings of fruit trees and other indigenous trees. We also bought some mushrooms and indigenous vegetables from Nyakazi Organics. Nyakazi is a local aggregator for indigenous vegetables from local farmers that is incubated by Seed Savers Network. The company dries and packages the food to extend shelf-life and also to create a constant market and prices for the sake of farmers and consumers. I appreciate such local solutions for local problems that are a win-win situation for all parties involved.
We graciously shared of our seeds and received some from their seed bank. In other words we made a deposit and withdrawal simultaneously, and then left feeling like we had robbed a bank.
After many hugs and goodbyes, we felt justified to stop at Kikopey, a popular meat joint right off the highway as a small token of appreciation to my family for my wayward and adventurous time keeping methods.
As a treat, I made an impromptu meat accompaniment from available ingredients. Lemons, a gooseberry from a farm we had visited earlier, a mango from my weekend event @mlangofarm, a date, black pepper and caraway seeds. It was a hit. My family gobbled it up in minutes. I named the recipe Njama, Nyama ya Wajama. Njaama. Why? you may wonder. The answer is a combination of comedy and tragedy in the true Greek sense.
The story of food justice is the modern Cold War. A truly tragic story of food illiteracy and injustice. Yet in the face of such an unnecessary tragedy is a spaces of unspeakable joy. An executive director whom I have never seen face to face but yet interrupts his meeting and shifts hears as if he was driving a car. The hospitality beats the famous hospitality of the Greeks on accounts of its foundation . The Greeks were hospitable to their guests as they were afraid that the guests might be gods in disguise testing their character.
I seriously doubt Wajama thought we could be Greek gods. Yet he was both gracious as to be pious. A car load of men in my family basked in brotherhood of Wajama with whiffs of reciprocal energy. Hence the name Njama( a group of purposeful men assembled for a purpose . Nyama means meat. Wajama was the purpose for the eating the meat.
Nyama na Njama ya Wajama finished a wonderful word that has been my theme during my visit to both Kenya and Ethiopian : Onetang. The curtains will fall tomorrow as I embark on a road trip to Addis Ababa in preparation for my European tour.
All those men, and many like them are the rays of the sun to my heart. Those rays and sparks serenade me with warmth for my soul. In such moments I get ideas I might never had before, such as the poetic connection between Nyama(meat), Njaama( warriors with purpose) and Wajama. The purpose of Nyama(meat) is to feed Njaama and Wajama to the common goal of OneTang. Thayù