Jane, Polly and Gwen make supper

Each day when I turn up for my breakfast I open the front door and walk straight in to a smart sitting room with television, sofas and a coffee table and I take off my shoes at the door so that the dust does not get onto the rug. My omelette, bread, fresh pineapple and Ndu tea are served to me in that room and until Jane suggested I learnt a little about the domestic life of Cameroonian women, I had no idea about the supreme effort it took her each morning to prepare this meal. Until then I did not understand how the house worked, apart form knowing that the hole-in-the-ground toilet was in an outhouse at the very back of the house.

Jane, and Mr. Patrick share their one storey house with their two young sons and Gwen, a young homeless widow. Houses are clustered together in a ‘compound’ that sometimes share outbuildings – toilets, water taps and kitchens. Their house is in a compound of 4 other houses. The actual house has two bedrooms, another room that they live and eat in and a room called a kitchen. The room that they call the kitchen is just an empty room with a concrete floor and a gas cooker in the corner. The cooker is very rarely used as the gas cylinders are too expensive. There are no cupboards, work surfaces and no running water. Tins of food are stored on the floor, in tins, plastic pots and thermos boxes.

So when Gwen and Jane suggested I help them to prepare the evening meal I was delighted t be invited into the secret part of the house the woman’s world in fact.

First I was given ‘a loin’ - a piece of African fabric, to tie round my waist as an apron. Then I collected my low woman’s stool from the outhouse and took it into what Gwen and Jane call the kitchen. The three of us sat round a wood fire surrounded by pots and pans and tin trays of raw ingredients, yams, spices, garlic, onions peppers, tomatoes, rice, carrots and fresh fruits.

My first job was to cu wood with a small sharp knife. Then, up off the stool to wash my hands at the tap in the garden. We chopped all the vegetables on our lap, with no chopping board. Believe me, peeling and dicing a fresh pineapple, holding it by the stalk in the left hand and chopping it with a knife in the right hand is a skill in itself. Gwen and Jane take 3 minutes to dice. I gave up after 5 minutes and two cut fingers. The yams were even more difficult as they are tough skinned and huge.

We made two dishes, pepper soup and tomato rice. Onion, and garlic was fried in a huge pot and spices added. The spices, garlic and fresh ginger were ground between two stones , the tomatoes chopped on our laps, the fire kept stoked and pots moved on and off the fire if the food was cooking too quickly. I fetched water for washing hands, washing food and washing pots and covered the outside of each pot with a mixture of old ash from the fire mixed with water. This is made into a paste and smeared on to prevent the pot from being covered in black smoke which then is hard to wash off and makes tea towels or anything it comes into contact with, filthy. Now that’s a handy hint for all you campers out there. Its messy but effective.

We were joined periodically by an older woman from an adjoining house, who wanted to watch me struggle. I even had a lesson in carrying water on my head.

It took 2 1/2 hours to make the food and by that time I was so exhausted I just wanted sleep. But, it was delicious and as the guest, I left for home without having to wash up in the dark.