I am sure that every South African female with an Indian heritage would have at some point been interrogated about the shape and size of her roti.
In case you’re lost at this point, roti is essentially a round flatbread native to the Indian subcontinent.
For some reason and typical within the Indian community, a woman’s domestic ability is often measured by how perfectly round she can roll a roti.
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While this is often said as a joke, especially amongst my own age group, there are still some older folk who base the decision of whether a woman will make a good wife on her cooking abilities.
Fair enough, it is important to have some domestic skills – not to portray yourself as ideal wife material but solely to get you through the entirety of your adult life.
But for someone’s aunty to tell you that you won’t make a good wife because your roti isn’t perfectly circular? I thought love was all that mattered.
I’m probably shooting myself in the foot here but my roti is the furthest thing from round, they’re more of a ‘squircle.’
Mind you, I grew up in a home where roti was made pretty often. I’d watch my mom roll the dough out effortlessly and magically form a circle.
Eventually she taught me how to make it but boy oh boy was I horrible at rolling it out.
Maybe I’m just uncoordinated but my brain and hands refuse to make sense of it all.
One day my mom suggested that I use a plate to cut it out so that it would be round.
Honestly that was just tedious and the dough would get stuck everywhere.
It has since been our standing agreement that she would roll them out and I would cook them instead.
It always tastes nice though, does that count for something?
The point I’m trying to make is that there are many other individual core values to worry about instead of fixating on silly little things.
Who cares if my future daughter grows up not eating a single round roti because her mom was terrible at making them?
At least I’d know she grew up learning about the things that really mattered.
Our young girls should never have to grow up in fear of what an imaginary mother-in-law will think of them.
I was fortunate enough to grow up in a home where I was never forced to be in the kitchen.
Who knows, maybe I’ll end up marrying a chef and half of my problems would be solved.
I was never made to feel that I was only worth the amount I could do in the kitchen, something I’m forever grateful for – because it gave me time to focus on other important aspects in my life.
Sadly, this isn’t the case for everyone which is why I think it’s time we outgrow these old concepts.
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