Explaining what mutura is might kill its beauty and savoury but I promise you, it tastes better than it sounds. Mutura is made of goat intestines, with a combination of ground meat, goat blood, fats, and seasonings such as onion, salt, pepper, ginger, garlic, and coriander. The fancier your estate, the fancier the ingredients, and the merrier the mutura. 

The intestines are washed thoroughly and then stuffed with the mentioned items. The meat is then grilled over a charcoal stove, mostly by the roadside, until it’s golden brown. Then it’s ready to serve. 

Here are a few things you need to know about mutura.

I don’t know what it is about darkness, but it makes mutura more scrumptious. Just like how chipo mwitu (fries sold by the roadside) in brown bags are usually sweet. If you eat mutura during the daytime, it will be bland and almost uneatable. 

Most vendors start preparing it in the evening when people are on their way home from work. The darkness and the smoke from the griller ultimately give you a wholesome experience. 

The smoke might linger on for a few hours giving you away to whoever you interact with on your way home but who minds it anyway? 

So, you have your darkness and your firi firi (spicy pepper). Now all you need is to enjoy your mutura slowly. Most home grillers sell it from as low as Ksh 20. It’s never an expensive affair. The beauty of eating mutura is eating it piece by piece and then asking the vendor to add some more. 

If you have like fifty or a hundred bob, you’ll have to place an order for one serving, then another, and another, because if you order three portions, it won’t be as tasty. Also, the vendor might steal your pieces but you might not notice, since they look many.

If you are not careful, you might finish a day's worth of fare. This exercise might be worse than gambling and needs self-discipline. You’ve got to know when to add some more and when to walk away.  

If you want to enjoy mutura, you need to eat it with people. Emphasis on the word need. There’s something about having company like a group of three or two people that makes it tastier. There’s usually an unwritten rule; where one or two are gathered, the mutura gets sweeter. 

The togetherness, the merry, and the laughter make it a memorable and enjoyable affair. You can’t eat mutura alone like a sad human being. It steals its beauty away. It’s also punishable by death. 

You cannot indulge in mutura if you don’t have kachumbari with a little chili. Kachumabari is like guacamole. It adds spice, elevates your eating experience, and makes your mutura slap like hell. The chili should be hot enough to make you cough but mild enough to give you some flavour.

And at the end of the meal, you are smelling like smoke, your hands a bit oily but your soul is happy because a mutura a day keeps the stress at bay. 

Once you start eating mutura, there is no going back. There are times you'll leave work and all that is ringing in your mind is mutura. You cannot wait to get to your vendor and lay your hands on the meat.

And this addiction is dangerous because the days you skip eating mutura are the days you wake up in the middle of the night sweating, your hands shaking uncontrollably because you are missing from the mutura.