I HATE GITHERI

     When I was a kid, I was a very poor eater. Or so I am told. My memory does not go past yesterday. I am told I would put food in my mouth and not chew for like 30 minutes. The food would turn watery due to digestion by saliva and I would swallow only when my cheeks got tired or I got a slap. I hated food. I still hate some till today. Whatever food I have no memory ever eating as a kid I never eat even today. I hate tomatoes, pizza, burgers, yorghut, onions, a range of green vegetables... the list is long.
     Then in class four I went to boarding school. Which in retrospect was a very young age to be put away, considering how my bro is now in class four and still cannot cross the road by himself. But I think I get Dad's point of view. It was less of a hustle for him.
   Boarding is where I can say I learnt how to eat, among other things. I learnt how to eat quickly because we had a time limit. And I learned how to eat a lot because the P.E drained me like hell.
     Then came high school and that is where shit began to happen. I started eating less. Not because of lack of appeitite. Lord knows that had increased. No, it was due to other factors, like braces, bullying, stomach issues...
     I had braces to fix my horse teeth and made chewing githeri very difficult. Githeri was our daily bread so I kind of took a hit. I think that right about then is when I started with my stomach issues. In Form 2. Everytime I had githeri my tummy would disturb (is that correct English?) me like hell. It did not so much hurt as rumble. Even if I have eaten. Especially when I have eaten. A loud brrrrrrrrrrrrr that could easily confused with a loud liquidy fart. It was embarrasing. Sometimes however it could hurt like hell. And then I would have to lie down for a while. I deduced it was githeri that was doing this to me. Me being Sherlock Holmes and all.
    Seeing as it was the only food I ate, I tried to get Dad to get the school to let me be on special diet. Regardless to say, he did not help. I can't remember why but I know it made me hate him a little more. I got a special diet letter my own way and soon I was off githeri. The stomach thing reduced and my teeth hurt less. Rice daily was suiting me.
      But later, shit fell apart when the students in 4th year started becoming greedier. Wanting all the special food to themselves despite not having a special letter. It was a power thing. All other forms would miss food because the seniors had grabbed it all. Having no relative in the higher forms, I was simply fucked. Had to go back to githeri. Back to stomach pains. Back to teeth hurting.
      It was not long after this that I finally discovered that the less I eat, the less my stomach hurt and the less my teeth hurt. And that is when I discovered that I could do with one meal a day. I would only eat supper, exchange my breakfast for rice or just skip lunch. At the moment it seems kind of hard to even to see how I managed, but I did . And plus the school stopped being stingy and started cooking rice on Tuesdays Thursdays and Sundays. Suffice it to say, those were my best days of the week.
      I kept insisting that my tummy always hurt in school whenever I went home but I do not think I was taken very seriously. Why does it not hurt at home. After a couple more complains my mom finally took me to the AgaKhan Hospital where I was found to have nothing unusually wrong with me but the usual minyoo. What a waste of money that was, I could hear Dad say. In my head.
      Then highschool ended and I came and met my Aunt. Whose staple food was githeri. I could not believe my luck. Budget constrains made it impossible to cook different meals at the same time so my one-meal a day stunt kicked in.
     Then came campus. I was already used to not eating so I did not let the fact that I could not afford three meals a day bother me much. I realised that if I minimised doing anything, I can actually be strong enough to do nothing.
    And that brings us to now. Still in campus, still not eating. I am over six feet tall and still way under 60kgs. I am told that makes my BMI very bad. I want to get bigger. I really do. But I seem to never do anything about it. And frankly I do not think it can ever happen until I change my lifestyle. Which loosely translated means getting a job and getting as far way from The Aunt as possible.