By: John S. Morlu II, CPA
Kenya is a land of aroma, spice, and love — and nowhere is that more obvious than the kitchen.
If you haven’t been offered tea within 30 seconds of entering a Kenyan home, you’re either a ghost or an inspector from KRA. Tea isn’t just a drink; it’s a handshake, a hug, and a family reunion in a cup.
Tea Time All the Time
Kenyan tea is strong — not just in flavor but in emotion. If it doesn’t punch you in the throat and massage your soul, it wasn’t made right. It’s brewed to comfort your heartbreak, wake up your ancestors, and settle family debates.
🧠 Fun Fact: Kenya is one of the largest exporters of black tea globally, yet most people here will still complain it’s “not as strong as it used to be.”
💡 Tidbit: In rural Kenya, tea is often brewed in aluminum kettles with enough sugar to get you diagnosed by just smelling it. “Milk first or tea first” debates are real and can end friendships — and sometimes weddings.
🎤 Observation: Tea is served at funerals, weddings, barazas (community meetings), and job interviews. Basically, any event that involves sitting down.
Chapati: The National Love Language
Chapati isn’t just food. It’s a celebration. If someone makes you chapati, you’ve officially been accepted into the family. If they let you flip one — that’s basically a marriage proposal.
It takes time, wrist strength, and ancestral whispers to make it right. Rolling chapatis too thick is punishable by social exile. Too thin, and you’re suspected of foreign influence.
🧠 Fun Fact: A perfectly round chapati earns respect. An oval chapati? We don’t talk about it.
🎤 Street Wisdom: “If your chapati can’t fold without breaking, it’s not chapati — it’s betrayal.”
🍳 Chapati Math: A Kenyan mum will make exactly 12 chapatis, even if there are 9 visitors, 4 neighbors, and 2 stray cats hanging around. But somehow — everyone eats.
The Kitchen: Kenya’s Boardroom
Every major family decision, business idea, or political debate starts in the kitchen. The radio is always on. The oil is always sizzling. The opinions? Loud and seasoned with salt, chili, and sarcasm.
📻 Observation: Even arguments sound better when there’s the aroma of pilau in the air. If there’s no food cooking, it’s just yelling. With food? It’s a discussion.
🧅 Ingredients of Power: Garlic, ginger, Royco, and two aunties talking at the same time.
🎉 Cooking hack: When visitors come, the onions suddenly get more attention. You’ll see ten different spices appear from nowhere.
🍽️ Bonus: Sukuma wiki (collard greens) literally means “push the week” — because that’s what it does. Budget tight? Add sukuma. Food running low? Add sukuma. Existential crisis? Add sukuma and chapati. Breakup? Sukuma with a side of prayer.
💡 Spiritual Fact: The smell of pilau can make you forget your problems. Temporarily.
Final Word
If politics is Kenya’s theater, then the kitchen is the sacred shrine. It’s where culture is cooked, love is stirred, and gossip is served with precision. It’s where kids sneak bites, aunties pass judgment, and dads pretend they don’t hear the drama.
The Kenyan kitchen is not just a place for food. It’s where memories are baked, and opinions are fried. It’s laughter, chaos, and sometimes… smoke.
Next up in Chapter Twenty-Two:
“Foreign Businesses Thriving (or Surviving) in Kenya.”
About the Author
John is an entrepreneur, strategist, and founder of JS Morlu, LLC, a Virginia based CPA firm with multiple software ventures including www.FinovatePro.com, www.Recksoft.com and www.Fixaars.com . With operations spanning multiple countries, John is on a mission to build global infrastructure that empowers small businesses, entrepreneurs, and professionals to thrive in an increasingly competitive world. He believes in hard truths, smart execution, and the relentless pursuit of excellence. When he’s not writing or building, he’s challenging someone to a productivity contest—or inventing software that automates it.