Chicken Mayo Tramezzini

Chicken Tramezzini

I had the pleasure of meeting Thando Simelane, from Sofresh Lounge in Manzini, and she made this amazingly delicious chicken tramezzini, ideal to make for lazy afternoons or nights when you don’t feel like cooking up a storm.  The recipe below serves 1 person.

Ingredients

 2 chicken breasts

1 tablespoon cooking oil

1 teaspoon Cajun spice

1 teaspoon chicken spice

Half teaspoon chopped garlic

1 teaspoon lemon juice

1 ring pineapple, chopped

2 tablespoons mayonnaise

A dash of Aromat spice

Method

Warm some olive oil in a pan.

Take one and half breasts and cut them into strips.

In a bowl, mix the strips with garlic, lemon juice and spices

Add the chicken to the oil and stir fry until it is cooked through.

Add a dash of Aromat spice to the remaining half breast and boil it.

Drain the water from the boiled chicken and chop it until it resembles fine crumbs

Add Mayonnaise to the chopped breast.

Mix the chopped chicken with the fried

Add spoonfuls of the chicken into the open pita bread.

Slice in half and serve.

Appalling treatment of mentally ill people in Swaziland

A story published in last week’s Observer on Saturday about the appalling state of the National Psychiatric Centre was quite heartbreaking.  It appears people have just written off the patients at the hospital.

The story painted a bleak picture of patient-neglect as mentally ill people are living in very humiliating conditions where the hospital is flooding owing to poor drainage. It does not only rain but pours for these fellow members of our society, literally and figuratively. Not only do they have to live in less than ideal circumstances, they also have to contend with insensitive journalists who use derogatory terms to refer to mental illness. It now appears everybody is out to get them.

On January 22 2015, there was a headline in The Observer that referred to an alleged robber suspected to be mentally ill as a “nutcase”. More recently, on May 18, there was another story headlined “Stark raving lunaticson the loose in Siteki”. Now, that is a very insensitive way of referring to fellow citizens of the kingdom. The story published in May highlighted how there was an influx of mentally handicapped people in Siteki, with some of them accused of committing serious crimes. That is a huge concern that calls for prompt intervention and screaming headlines, but not those that are insulting to the mentally ill.

Following the offending headline, I spoke to Psychiatrist and Mental Health Specialist, Dr Violet Mwanjali, to get an understanding of the facts around mental illness. She defined mental illness as any illness that affects the mind, and there are many of them affecting thousands of people in the country. Schizophrenia, depression, bipolar,  autism, and eating, anxiety, obsessive-compulsive and post-traumatic stress disorders are examples.  

Dr Mwanjali called on the people of Swaziland to come together in managing mental illness so that it does not end up having adverse effects on society, such as crime, violence, broken families and suicides. It should never be forgotten that some mentally ill people are also caregivers, and failure to get treatment might result in them losing their jobs and failing to cater for their families, like paying school fees and buying food, for example.  Mental illness, very unfortunately, is one of the illnesses that suffer a lot of discrimination from the less informed. This discrimination, said Dr Mwanjali, is among the major impediments to treating mental illness.

It is worse when the discrimination is perpetuated by the media, because society usually takes what newspapers say as the gospel truth, and when headlines call mentally ill people “nutcases” and “stark raving lunatics”, some members of society will believe that it is acceptable to throw around such ugly names. 

 “Mentally ill people delay going to the hospital, even when they see the symptoms. Sometimes they are afraid to collect their medication because they are afraid that people will see them and laugh. They then end up with complications because they are afraid of the labels,” Dr Mwanjali said.

The state of affairs at the National Psychiatric Centre at the moment does not encourage anyone to go and seek treatment. Nobody wants to live in such a wretched fashion. Apart from drainage system malfunction, there is also overcrowding, which has seen some of the patients having to sleep on the wet floor as water seeps into their dormitories. Apart from the existing ailments they have, they might end up picking new ones as a result of the deplorable living conditions. If patients have to walk on human waste in an effort to take a bath, doesn’t it negate the whole idea of taking a bath in the first place?

Vision 2022 must certainly look like a castle in the air for patients at the Psychiatric Centre. In progressive countries a building like that would be condemned as it is not safe for human habitation, and those who ran discriminatory headlines would be censured.

We should never be seen to be taking advantage of those that cannot speak for themselves. We would never be that nasty to people with HIV, because they have the mental capacity to stand up and fight for themselves and a big stink, excuse the pun, would be raised by organisations that represent them. People with HIV and other ailments are also being hauled before the courts for committing crimes, but they are not profiled as is done with the mentally ill.

 Dr Mwanjali said the majority of mental illnesses, among them depression and suicide, could be totally treated if those affected consulted mental health professionals. Those illnesses that could not be treated could be managed, the same way ailments like diabetes and hypertension are. People with mental illness can lead normal, fulfilling lives if they get the correct help and take their medication as prescribed. They need moral support so that they do not feel that they have to deal with their condition all by themselves. Supporting them also involves accompanying them to the hospital as soon as signs of mental illness are noticed. Other family members also need to understand how the medication should be administered, just in case the patient is incapacitated to remember by himself.

What’s worrying now is that the conditions under which mentally ill people live might exacerbate feelings of desolation. I would feel despondent too if I had to be woken up at night to wipe away sewage water from the floor.

There is a saying that goes, “The greatest measure of society is in how it treats its vulnerable members.” What is happening at the Psychiatric Centre is shocking and deplorable. The patients there are real people, not shadows. They have aspirations to get better and get on with life like everybody else.  They are somebody’s mother, father, child, or aunt. They deserve to be treated with dignity. There are associations for the deaf, those with HIV, epilepsy and other conditions, but who stands for the mentally ill in Swaziland? Surely people can come together and forego a few luxuries to ensure that the ablution facilities at the Psychiatric Centre are fixed? The world is too rich to allow vulnerable citizens of the country to live like that. Hefty sums of money are being offered for the protection of the rhino, and we must believe there’s nothing for mentally ill human beings? It doesn’t make sense.  Let us be our brother’s keeper.

 Published in Sunday Observer

Related:
Discussion on high suicide rate in Swaziland

Having your 5-a-day and drinking it too!

It felt evil to mutilate this beautiful salad

I had the pleasure of meeting two lovely chefs for the Times of Swaziland cooking column which I contribute to. Chef Phindile Sihlongonyane and Nokwazi Gama made me fresh juice and a muesli fruit salad. I absolutely loved the salad.

Ingredients for the fruit salad

Quarter of cup muesli

Quarter apple, cut into small cubes

2 strawberries

1 banana

Quarter cup chopped pawpaw

1 kiwi

375ml plain or double cream yoghurt

Grapes, not used in this particular recipe

2 tablespoons honey

Pour muesli in a bowl and add a layer of yoghurt to cover the muesli.

Add a generous layer of all the fruits to cover the yoghurt, leaving some for garnish.

Cover the fruit layer with more yoghurt.

Place the remainder of the fruit on top of the yoghurt.

Squeeze honey over the salad and enjoy.

Chef Nokwazi Gama prepared the delectable fruit salad. Her expertise preparing the salad reflected the 15 years she has been at Pick ‘n Pay Manzini, some of them spent assisting with food preparation. She learned to cook on the job after being sent to various places for training. Chef Nokwazi said what kept her going was seeing regular customers who kept coming back to the coffee shop, which assured her that she and her team were doing a great job.

Ingredients for the juice

4 Apples

3 carrots

Half thumb size root ginger

Blocks of ice, optional

Method

Slice the apple in half and chop the carrots into four pieces and chop the carrots into four pieces

Throw the ingredients into the machine and wait for the juice to be processed.

When all the juice comes out, remove the froth that forms on the surface and serve.

Chef Phindile Sihlongonyane, who made the fruit and vegetable juice, has been with Thyme @The Hub for the past two years. She said she was proud of the juice she serves to her customers daily because it is pure, with no water or artificial additives. Her favourite juice is the one she prepares with beetroot, orange, and a little ginger.

How my friend lost her hearing

Image from pixabay.com

About a month or two ago, I had a sore throat. It was particularly worse in the morning when I woke up. I self-diagnosed and concluded that I was about to come down with a cold. So I made my concoctions at home and after about two weeks, the pain just stopped and the cold never came. Then one Tuesday the right side of my face was really sensitive to temperatures and touch. I couldn’t put a finger to where the problem was emanating from, but was a little concerned. In the evening that’s when an intense earache started. I would have wept if I hadn’t banned my kids from crying in the house. At midnight the pain worsened and I knew I could not go to bed with it shooting like that, so my husband and I went to ER. As soon as I told the doctor that I had earache, he asked if I had recently suffered from a sore throat or cold. I told him about the sore throat. He examined my ears and said my eardrum was as red as a strawberry, and it wasn’t supposed to be like that. My throat was also found to be just as inflamed. I got my medication and went back home. The earache took very long to heal and the meds made it very difficult for me to function. I didn’t know what was worse – the earache or side effects from the tablets.

A few days after my visit to the doctor, my dear friend told me how she lost her hearing well in her 30s. It just happened overnight. Don’t self-diagnose and self-medicate. I will never ever again. Not anymore. Read her tragic narrative below:

I lost my hearing in 2006 in August while travelling to Mozambique on a chicken bus. I was sitting close to the driver and the bus was making so much noise both from engine and old age. I was also suffering from tonsillitis. I had not sought medical advice before leaving for Mozambique. I overlooked it because I had always suffered from tonsillitis at least once a year in the previous years. So I just took Panado and lozenges. 

Now, looking back I realise it was a huge mistake because in the past I’d go to hospital and they would give me injections of penicillin for at least four days. I also blame the nurses because they don’t explain the nature of drug and why they are administering it.  If I had known then I’d have realised that every time I have an attack, I have to seek medical assistance. Anyway back to how it happened. We travelled all day and finally put up for the night. We slept on the bus, typical cross-border trader style. The next morning when I woke up around 4, it was so quiet on the bus. I just assumed everyone was asleep. I began to get worried when my mother-in-law who was sitting next to me was looking at me strangely. I couldn’t hear a thing! I tried to talk but couldn’t even hear myself either. At first people laughed, thinking it was a prank. I was shocked because I couldn’t understand what was happening to me

For the rest of the day I was deaf. It’s funny how we take hearing for granted. My sister-in-law had to hold my hand to push me out of traffic because I could not hear anything. The second day was much the same. On the third day, on our way back, one ear popped when the driver banged his door. My hearing improved but only to hear noises, not articulate speech. When I got back to Zimbabwe, people were shocked. I got back to my school and didn’t know how I was going to teach. I was traumatised and depressed.  I went to see my GP, who thought I should have my ears cleaned. He thought maybe it was wax blocking my hearing. He cleaned thoroughly and said things would improve. How I hated him at that moment and lost faith in him as a doctor! No amount of wax would do that to a person’s hearing!

I make sure I tell people of my condition but many don’t believe it or choose to ignore it because I find it difficult to hear people even if they are close to me or if they talk facing another direction. Worse when it’s in a crowd. Some shout, thinking it will help, but it’s worse. I have accepted my misfortune and try not to think about it. But it has made me so paranoid that I take my kids to the doctor even if it’s just flu. I don’t want them to go through what I did, even though at times doctors don’t know what they are doing. I bought hearing aids, which cost me and arm and a leg, US$1000, but they were not helpful. They became an expensive white elephant.

The children I teach understand, if we can call it that of these youngsters. You get some who find it funny or get irritated if I ask them to repeat themselves. But I always make sure I make my condition known to everyone that I’m hard of hearing, even my lecturers at university and my colleagues. I’d been lucky till last block when we got a lecturer who was inaudible even to those whose hearing was sharp. I also sit in front and make sure my better ear, the one with 60 percent is on the side where the lecturer is sitting or talking from.

I thank God that it wasn’t my sight that was taken. What would I have done? Of course, I’m partially deaf, but I can hear some, I can still see clearly. One has got to count one’s blessings.

My ordeal at the hands of low Swazi officers of the law

Freshlyground at the MTN Bushfire, Swaziland

My husband very nearly got me arrested on Saturday night. At midnight, after a day of good and bad music and a bit of dancing at the MTN Bushfire music festival, I took the wheel as he had been drinking since afternoon. I hate driving at night, and it was my first time driving that late. I was feeling very tense as cases of abduction, murder and robbery have been escalating. Driving a South African registered car puts you at a higher risk as robbers assume people coming from South Africa have a lot of money, particularly at the end of the month. When I realised many other people were also leaving after the Freshly Ground set, it gave me a sense of comfort, security in numbers.

I’m one person who sticks to the speed limits, regardless of how clear the road might look. Swazi roads are notorious for having domestic animals that mushroom from nowhere and many people have died on the roads as a result of this. That’s why I prefer to be on the side of caution. He seemed annoyed that we were the ones being overtaken by speed demons all the time, never doing our own overtaking.

Driving with my husband in the car is a nightmarish, hellish experience. It feels like cooking with a cruel mother-in-law in the kitchen, watching you like a hawk, asking you if that’s not too much salt you’re putting in the pot, peering in the pots and asking, “Won’t we die of hypertension or heart attack or both with that much cooking oil?” As she distracts you like that, you have a nagging feeling she’s secretly praying that you burn the meat so that she can have one more thing against you. That’s exactly how I feel driving my husband.

“Don’t do that! Do this! Stop! You will damage the rim at the rate you’re going.”

I tried to thaw the tension by talking about the duet between Oliver Mtukudzi and Ringo Madlingozi. Big mistake. I should have just kept my thoughts to myself. As I was doing so, I followed a car off a ramp I wasn’t supposed to take. I only realised it when my husband, in an annoyed tone said, “Where are you going?”  What made me follow that car? I don’t know. I had used that road on countless occasions and knew I wasn’t supposed to turn anywhere, but I did. I have a few suspicions why that could have happened.

1. Even though I felt alert, I must have been really exhausted.
2. The fear of being robbed I spoke about above must have been alive and well, and I absently continued following the car ahead of me for the security it provided.
3. The Bushfire event attracted a bunch of the arty farty types who smoked like chimneys. There was a great deal of weed in the air and I did a lot of passive smoking. It’s possible that I could have been high as a kite.
4. The atmosphere in the car was cold and that made me extremely nervous and distracted.

Back to the real story. When I was notified that I had made a wrong turn, I felt stupid but was all for proceeding as I was sure I’d find another way to get home, which wasn’t too far away then. My husband told me to reverse, which I did without question as the environment wasn’t conducive for a debate. I reversed, and no sooner was I back on the freeway did I see the evil blue lights on my tail. The police signaled me to stop, and as I was about to do so, my husband was giving another command, “Don’t stop, keep driving!” What, and risk being shot at? Many people travel from neighbouring South Africa into the kingdom to buy weed, and police sometimes open fire on people who refuse to stop. So I stopped, against my husband’s well-intended advice. A uniformed man came to my window and said, “Licence please,” upon which my husband hissed, “Don’t give him your license!” How do I refuse when I have clearly flouted road regulations? I gave the officer the license, and he asked me to step out of the car. My husband again said, “Don’t go out, just open the window!” I got out and he did too. “Come here!” said the officer, and we joined him and his colleague at their vehicle. He asked why I had reversed into the freeway, and I said I had taken a wrong turn and was sorry. He said that was a danger zone and we could easily have died. I said I was keeping an eye on the rear and ensured there was no car coming before me. By then everyone, the two officers and my husband were speaking at the same time. My husband was saying, “She panicked after taking the wrong turn”. But I didn’t panic. I just followed bad advice.

“We’re detaining you tonight and will take you to see the magistrate tomorrow. What you did was very dangerous!” said the other officer. My husband and I apologised profusely and then an indication of what was expected of us came.

OFFICER: What can we do to solve this problem here and now, so that you won’t have to be        detained?”
Anybody could have told he was asking for a bribe. And what was I supposed to say to that?  I had no idea as I had never had a police officer ask me for a bribe before. 
ME: What are you suggesting that I do?
OFFICER: I don't know. What do you suggest?
ME: You could give a ticket and fine me.
OFFICER: Fining is for the magistrate, my sister. You will see him tomorrow.
HUSBAND: Officers, she's breastfeeding and the baby can't sleep without her.
OFFICER: She'll stay in the holding cells while you go home to fetch the baby so she can sleep with the mother. 

They appeared to be getting really agitated now because their radio was going, and they said there was an accident they needed to rush off too, so we needed to be straight with them. Whenever I tried to put a word in, my husband would say, “Be quiet! Let me do the talking.” One of the officers said, “We are trying to be very lenient with you, but you’re not hearing us.” I had heard them loud and clear, but I didn’t know how exactly to handle what I had heard. When we couldn’t come up with a satisfactory plan, they said we should follow them to the police station so that I could be booked in, and they sped off – with my license. So we had no choice but to follow. As we followed, my husband was on my case again. “You should have kept quiet when I was talking to the officers! I told you to be quiet but you were not listening to me,” he said. I asked how I could just keep quiet when I was the one at the risk of getting charged with an offence and have a drunk person speak for me. “I’m not drunk!” he lashed. Right, which drunkard ever admitted to being drunk? He said, “You should keep quiet. I’m trying to teach you how to survive around cops because I have more driving experience than you!” Somebody please shoot me now.

Now wonder why they call alcohol the “wise waters”. Here was a man with the wisdom to get me into trouble and get me out of it too! Wow!

We found the cops parked along the way to their station. They gave us the licence and said they had to rush to an accident where people were injured.  “Drive carefully,” one of them said, and off they drove into the night.

By then it was almost 1 am, May 31. The episode left me rattled and put me off attending the day’s show featuring bands that I love so much, The Parlotones and The Soil.  Would I have paid the bribe if they had been upfront with me? No, because I didn’t even have 2 cents to rub together. We had finished all the money we had on food and the booze that made my husband drunk. If I had the money on me, would I have paid them if they had been straight with me? Most likely I would have. Rogue policeman have the power to make your life pretty miserable. I know many people who got into trouble for absolutely no reason at all. One was stopped at a road block in Johannesburg and they flagrantly asked him for money if he wanted to go free. He protested that he hadn’t done anything wrong. “Oh really?” they said before producing a stash of drugs from their car. “We’ll say we found these on you,” they said. He had to drive to the ATM with one of them to withdraw some money to pay for his non-existent sins. Here is a story I wrote about a taxi driver who is now doing time after he retaliated at cops who he said stole his money by shooting at them, with fatal results.  If I had money, and the cops had continued being vague about the bribery, would I have offered? Certainly not! I don’t advise anyone to either. What if they are pursuing promotion at their charge office and are looking to present themselves as being against corruption. Flouting road regulations remains a lesser offence than corruption, thank you very much.

Avoid secondary drunk driving

I, however, took a few lessons from this sordid experience:

• Don’t ever take driving instructions from a drunk person, even if he’s the one who paid for the car you’re driving. There’s a valid reason why people shouldn’t drive when drunk. It impairs judgment. Can’t drive, can’t give advice, period. Taking counsel on safe driving from a drunk person amounts to secondary drunk driving.
• Stand your ground if you believe you’re doing the right thing. Don’t ever be pressured into doing wrong, it’s your life that could end up in jeopardy.
• Don’t be absent minded on the road. Many have lost their lives due to absent-minded drivers.
• If you have a nagging husband, take measures to protect yourself from the nagging. Stuff your panties in his mouth and seal it with duct tape, drug him so he sleeps through the whole journey, or if he’s portable, shove him into the boot and close it!