The Soul of Tea

Tea is a unifier in times of tribations. In times of war, of climate change, and anxiety

Photo by Damir on Pexel

It's an unafrican to miss tea in the morning and not make up time to compensate. So, in my flooded schedule, no matter what, I would excuse myself, sneak out and whet my appetite. And when that time arrives, tea must be too hot to get that uncomfortable eye-squinting sip; it's like a password to a phone.

Peeling back years of years, tea has had a rich historical metamorphosis, shaped by distinct cultures and history. Its tasty history—from its accidental discovery in China to the Buddhist monk's meditating beverage to the last drink of the Japanese Samurai warriors to the symbol of aristocracy in Britain to the Western's spiced tea to India's masala chai—is fascinating to sip.

And if at any moment, I am presented with choices; to choose between green tea and tea that travelled to West and returned with layers of flavors, I would go for the former—for its herbal, natural flavour and aroma—but with the exception that I add only milk to neutralize its concentrative nature. Anytime, anywhere, tea that's not zesty, left for its rawness, is my morning starter pack—for even my creative writing.

As someone coming from a tea nation, tea is a national treasure, especially if I gloss over numbers. Farmers, in 2023 alone, bagged 522 million kgs translating into $1.2 billion in foreign exchange from over 90 global destinations. Not forgetting, tea is consumed in large quantities across hotels everyday; if you simply compute consumption in volumes, you would plunge your screen with shadows of zillions of zeros.

Not long ago, a social friend of mine, narrated how his half-beliefs and self-doubts (were crashed) about the social magic of tea riven him when he was invited for a fundraising drive. It was late afternoon and he was guided into a small compound with a grass-thatched house, and not afar, a simple makeshift tent sprouts to keep everyone out of the scorching sun. And he together with a few visitors sat and talked and sipped.

And all the while, he bombarded himself with a stream of thoughts. "Whoever needs schoolfees better give up," he thought quietly. As pots of tea starts doing rounds, the old and young, appearing to spring straight from their farms, trickled in. "These folks would be lucky to raise even a paltry sum for tea," he tells himself again. While some came with a bunch of bananas here, others tucked jogoos in armpits; they were animated with whatever they could carry.

My friend, well, didn't get less than embarrassment; the villagers shrugged him in the best way they know. Before he was done with a single cup of tea, thousands of money had been collected. Bananas, jogoos were auctioned off for thousands. And in a hour, everyone had their last sip and last goodbyes, rejoicing that their least of petite efforts coalesced into a planet-sized milestone.

In events like this, it is not what happens—for sure they will happen anyway—but how we respond to what happened. And these reckoning moments, those with little wherewithal have had their breathing room cushioned and stretched. Schoolfees cleared. Hospital bills deflated. Burden lighten up. And smiles jumpstarted. In its very affirmative way, running with the herd is not a between choice; it's the only option there it is. In our personal cracks, in our brokenness, simple buzzes around a cup of tea, have proven, again and again, its antidotic nature.

Tea is a unifier in times of tribations. In times of war, of climate change, of anxiety, of pandemics, and of widening inequalities; in a culture where high value is placed on numbers, individual achievements, and short-termism, more tea needs to be slosh into cups. In it, we inherit that social hereditary to chalk us off from a dearth of transgressions. A culture of reciprocity and collective wellbeing do not leave us alone to grapple with the unknowns. It heals our fragile souls burned out by capitalistic demands and all the brewing injustices everywhere.

I can't say this with certainty but if tea has a soul in it, I won't deny; the soul of the pioneers, settlers, farmers, chefs, and drinkers. It splashes an event with meaning and purpose; it has a spiritual element tying us to core of our existence and thriving. Unexplained bubbles and animations around the event transcend us beyond the current tribulations.