It’s 1995. I am at Mfantsipim School. My chop box is mainly full of Gari and Shito. I am 2 months into the semester. I have eaten the same meal for days. My taste bugs are all gone. I can’t taste anything.
My Mum visits. She brings some boiled rice. Ooh, Lord, you have answered my prayers. I open a can of StarKist Tuna. Add it to the rice. I top it up with my shit.
In my boarding house days, that was a delicacy.
