A couple of years ago, I visited a relative in the village, where I was served meat I had never eaten before – quail meat. And not just pieces of it, a basin full of whole fried quail.
I was amazed and taken aback at the same time, since at that moment, I had no idea what I had just been served since what I was seeing was too small to be chicken. Understandably, I was nervous.
Fortunately this relative and I are close, so I immediately showed my trepidation and asked her why she was serving us what looked like “small birds”, and whether she was sure they were edible. It is then that she went ahead to explain that what I was looking at was quail.
It turned out that she had joined the quail ‘super business’ bandwagon, but had made the mistake of joining late and had ended up losing close to a million shillings. A row of cages in her backyard was full of the birds, she told me, and since the market was saturated, she had no market to sell to, and could no longer afford to feed the birds, which explained why she had resorted to eating them.
But she wasn’t alone in this predicament, she informed me that one of her frustrated neighbour’s, who had also kept the birds, had opened her cages the previous day and allowed them to fly away.
“We decided to eat ours,” she said.
I searched the words “quail meat”, and the pictures that came up are of plump birds that look like chicken when slaughtered, a far cry from what I was served that day. You see, my relative could not afford to feed hers, so they had wasted away, and were more bones than meat. I could not help empathising with her, as I gamely nibbled the non-existent meat.
This incident came to mind after the conversation about okra water began to gather pace. Suddenly, all the women of Kenya, especially those who had never heard of this vegetable, (or fruit if you asked a scientist) was asking where they could get it so that they could experience its ‘goodness’.
As you can imagine mama mbogas and hawkers have been making a killing, having hiked the usual price of the newest craze in town.
I’d also imagine that there is a Kenyan somewhere that has leased land to plant this vegetable. By the way, Okra is also widely known as lady’s finger, so some of you might have been eating it for years because it is widely available and has always been.
Anyway, this okra water talk reminded me of the pyramid scheme that was the quail business and how hundreds of Kenyans, including my relative, burned their fingers after investing in it long after of the ‘early bloomers’ had made millions and quit the business. Remember the dragon fruit?
The fact is that a big number of Kenyans are always more than willing to jump into the bandwagon, most probably due to the fear of missing out, and herein lies the pathway to richness.
I have realised that if you want to make crazy money in this town, all you have to do is go on social media and extol the values, real or imagined, of a product and ensure that you have lots of it in stock. But not just any product, it has to be one that promises enhanced beauty or enhanced health. Then sit back and watch the money start rolling in.
