UGALI MAYAI MANIFESTO

To Rafici,
From Miss Mumbi,
RE: The Ugali Mayai Manifesto!
Dear Rafici,

Can we please talk about the absolute audacity of egg prices? Eggs now retail at an average of KSh 15 each in Kenya. Fifteen shillings. Per egg. At this point, if Marie Antoinette were alive, she’d probably shrug and say, “Let them eat sausages.” Honestly, maybe it’s time I started raising my own hens just to understand what kind of magic goes into producing an egg. Because an egg should never be a luxury. And yet, here we are.

For so many young Kenyans just starting out, ugali mayai is more than just a meal; it’s survival, comfort, and the answer to the eternal question, “What can I cook that won’t bankrupt me?”

My love affair with ugali mayai began completely by accident.Back in campus, I lived in a hostel that technically served food. I say technically because it rarely satisfied my palate. More often than not, I’d end up buying lunch instead, which usually meant fries. Now, don’t get me wrong; I love fries. But after a while, even the greatest love stories can become repetitive. One afternoon, I was hanging out with one of my best friends; shout out to Mutheu; when she casually suggested we get ugali mayai for lunch. Ugali mayai? For lunch? Seems like too heavy of a meal for lunch, No?

Still, I trusted her, so off we went to this tiny hotel tucked away on the corner of a quiet side street. It wasn’t much to look at, and I’ll admit I was skeptical. But then the food arrived. Neatly packed, still steaming, with extra chilli just the way I’d requested. The first bite changed my life. The eggs were soft and silky, folded into a rich tomato sauce, served with perfectly cooked greens and warm ugali. The chilli was fresh—fiery enough to make my eyes water, but with this incredible fruity sweetness that lingered long after the heat. Every bite somehow tasted better than the last. Reader, I absolutely demolished that plate. That lunch launched what can only be described as my ugali mayai obsession.

Eventually, I moved out of the hostel and into my own place. Suddenly I had a kitchen; and with it, a mission. I spent weeks tweaking and testing until I landed on what I now consider the perfect ugali mayai recipe. It’s simple, but like all great things, it’s about balance.

You need enough oil to properly fry the tomatoes until they’re rich, sweet and jammy. Your eggs deserve to be cooked gently; not rushed. Add just enough salt to lift every flavour without stealing the show. Then comes the chilli, plenty of it. Not just for the heat, but because it wakes up every other ingredient on the plate. And finally, the finishing touch: a cold cup of mala. Trust me on this. The cool tanginess cuts through the spice, refreshes your palate, and somehow makes the next bite taste even better than the last. That, ladies and gentlemen, is what I consider a perfect Kenyan meal.

So yes, eggs may be getting more expensive by the day. But until they become a luxury reserved for special occasions, I’ll keep making my ugali mayai; carefully, lovingly, and probably with a little extra chilli.If you give my version a try, I’d love to hear what you think. Just don’t blame me when you find yourself craving it every other day.