There are two types of people in this world, those who trust every kachumbari served at a nyama choma joint, and those who have learnt the hard way. Mimi? I proudly belong to the second group.

It all started with what looked like the perfect plate of nyama choma. The meat was juicy, the ugali ilikuwa moto, and the kachumbari looked fresh enough to deserve a food photoshoot. Without thinking twice, nilijipakia a generous serving because, let's be honest, nyama choma without kachumbari feels illegal.

A few hours later, however, my stomach decided to hold a demonstration. The rumbling started slowly before turning into a full-blown concert. Every five minutes ilikuwa ni mbio za washroom break. At that point, I was no longer enjoying my evening, I was negotiating with my stomach like it was a stubborn landlord. I became best friends with the bathroom, calculating the shortest route to the toilet everywhere I went before getting home.

Since that unforgettable experience, I have developed one strict life policy, if I didn't prepare the kachumbari myself, I'll politely say, "Hapana, asante." Call me dramatic if you want, but peace of mind is priceless. My friends still tease me whenever they order extra kachumbari, but I simply smile and protect my digestive system.

While not every serving of kachumbari is unsafe, raw tomatoes, onions and coriander can become contaminated if they are not washed properly, prepared with clean water or handled hygienically. That's why food safety matters just as much as the taste.

To avoid joining the "running stomach marathon," choose eateries that maintain good hygiene, ensure fresh salads are kept covered, wash your hands before eating, and don't hesitate to skip raw vegetables if you're unsure how they were prepared. After all, a plate of nyama choma should leave you satisfied not starring in your own episode of Choo Chronicles. Lesson learnt, si kila kachumbari ni ya kuamini.

Trust issues? blame the kachumbari

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Muthoni Wanjiku