One time, long time ago there was Ostrich ink, and two pens called Ta Tung and Youth.
Then around the same time before Elliot's Bakery died and then reincarnated as a pale shadow of its former self, there was its premium bread.
Finally there was their scones that made us receive such serious beatings from mathee that they would comfortably qualify as child abuse today. You see, wheat products - bread, chapo, mandazi or discuss cakes - were such rarities in our that we prayed that a visitor from far would come; as they surely would bring some of those.
The craving we had made us track where the chicken laid their eggs because eggs were like currency - you traded them in for goods at the local shops. Our most favourite purchase used to be scones. We would stash these in our pockets and eat a pinch at a time. We did this for two reasons - to extend the time of enjoying the sweetness and to make other children feel kinathoo.
The result of this kind of eating was that it left telltale crumbs for Mathee to find when washing clothes on Saturday. Not enough stories of that it was another boy that shared his scones would save you from the thorough whipping that followed. But the lesson from the pain of the beating only lasted until the next crave hit, and the eggs would not be safe.
