Tomato Scam

It is that time of the year when we – when I say we I mean Socrates, Plato, Confucius, and I – invoke one of the age-old wise sayings we came up with; thou shall never purchase a mere tomato for a price exceeding kdf. Our efforts were not only arduous but unmatched to date, considering the obvious fact that kdf had not yet been invented. Man, I remember people didn’t even vote then.

I have faltered twice on the saying. No, three times to be exact, although I can perfectly explain to the panel of eminent persons, should I be called upon. I made up for the flaw by –wait for it – shoplifting. At the time, I lived in a neighborhood where people strictly went grocery shopping. Our mama mboga, or grocery lady, had her kibanda tucked around one corner. It seemed as though rich people went there for discounts, but it was not anything like a discount to me.

I have veered off the topic. I was talking about tomatoes. So this day, after a hard day, I dashed to a mini-supermarket tucked on one of the buildings that had this giant black intricately designed gate. I only saw Somali ladies with those weird paintings of theirs entering and leaving that gate. The supermarket was more like an after-thought, for it was located on the first floor of the building, and was accessed on the outside via a steel staircase that made a lot of noise. I had mastered the steps and avoided the one that made the most noise as I ascended to make my paltry purchases – a sachet of coffee or half a kilo of sugar.

Once inside the supermarket, I selected two eggs from the shelf and a tomato. The tomato cost a whopping twenty shillings. The tomato itself was huge. If it talked, it would definitely have had linguistic prowess exceeding Waititu’s by kilometers. What did I do? Of course, nothing. I just sulked at the open robbery and quickly forgot about it. My motto quickly transformed to 'I can do without tomatoes.' Little pretentious ingredients whose only purpose was to make me feel miserable and deprived. And make me feel like I couldn’t enjoy a meal because, without it, food tasted like a concoction of sawdust and cow dung.

However, by mere chance, I checked at the counter with a packet of unga and two eggs, but parting with the said items with the price of unga. How did I do it? The cashier did not see the eggs. And that effectively turned me into a shoplifter. One day, when I get to public office, this statement might haunt me, but I don’t care. Given a chance, I’ll steal, and I don’t think I’ll ever wean myself off the habit. I don’t do it now because I haven’t had any chances. Besides, there’s so much anger out there, and being caught will surely mark the end of you.

On second thought, maybe I was not a shoplifter. I only pilfered. The excuse I can give is that they sold me, against my express will, a tomato costing twenty shillings. I’d pilfer little things like coffee sachets and eggs. And the very tomatoes. There was simply no way I could purchase them at such a price. Until the other day.

I was out and about trying to assemble things to make a meal of – veggies here, onions there, and tomatoes. Usually, I make it a point of buying things from the same place. Upon checking the price of tomatoes, it simply didn’t inspire me, but I bought it anyway. It was tiny, the same size as plums, but went for fifteen shillings. I silently wished I poured libations to my ancestors, maybe they would have intervened.

Beaten, I made my meal, glad that I was veering off my culinary delights that mainly involved boiling, ate, and proceeded to ruminate at the unfairness and injustice brought about by tomatoes’ decision to make themselves scarce. Foods without them, except at home tastes as though someone is punishing you. When did tomatoes actually decide to wedge themselves onto our tables, ruling our foods with a reptilian grip? 

I do not know, but right now, I do not intend to buy them anymore. The sad fact is that the simple exclusion has not made me any rich.  

Right now, I can only reminisce the times I could have bought four of them for ten shillings. And they nearly the size of Akothee’s boobs. Now their presence is as arrogant as Akothee herself.