A ritual

Dr Fahim Chand | Monday February 2, 2026 08:24

Morning arrives too slowly, then all at once. Responsibilities politely excuse themselves. You power it on, half expecting fireworks, half braced for disappointment. Curiosity grips the controller and channels itself into adrenaline-fuelled fingers. Will it change your life? Unlikely. Will breakfast wait? Without question. Worlds beckon, ready for conquest. Reality buffers. Tutorials smugly advise you to blink occasionally. That was me, the day after I bought my PlayStation, an event that now feels roughly a billion years ago. Human nature being what it is, we catapult ourselves toward whatever is new, hoping to be entertained, maybe even briefly mesmerised.

I sometimes wonder if the same curiosity flickered when the sun first tickled the dark earth at the Cradle of Humankind. By then, the divine architect had already shipped His first and boldest release: humans.

Did He pause, controller in hand, wondering what this new build would do? Admire the beauty, hunt for breakfast, or immediately try to take over the world? Some instincts, it seems, never get patched.

Back then there was no morning routine, only morning. Yet evolution, tinkering quietly in the background, has since moulded us into creatures of habit. Take breakfast now: a daily dress rehearsal for the day ahead, where familiar motions matter as much as nourishment.

We perform it as if the universe might wobble without our participation. Something ancient is soothed by the repetition, reassured that chaos has been postponed. Maybe these habits make life better. Or maybe they simply stop us from wandering into the morning unarmed.

For as long as I can remember, mornings began with tea and toast, shortly after the first humans emerged at the Cradle of Humankind. Not much later, really; this particular evolutionary milestone took place in Lobatse.

Since then, while humanity has busied itself conquering the universe’s secrets, we’ve also quietly perfected bread. These days, a 14-hour fermented sourdough greets me at dawn. The tea, however, stayed loyally unchanged, proper black tea, the sort you’d recognise as Five Roses or Joko. Until recently. I’ve now switched to coffee.

Having consumed tea for decades, I feared this reckless act might disturb the cosmos, perhaps even trigger the apocalypse. Since we’re all still here, I breathe easier. And to my surprise, I don’t miss the tea at all. Instead, I look forward to my café arabica wake-up call, evolution marching on, one mug at a time.

The switch has compelled me to learn more about this brown elixir with its mesmerising aroma. While we discuss evolution, what has happened to coffee since Aldi’s goats, jittery from nibbling coffee beans, inadvertently launched humanity into a global caffeine frenzy? Coffee isn’t just a personal ritual; it’s a tidal wave of mugs. Roughly 2.25 billion cups are consumed daily, making it the third most consumed beverage after water and tea, my former morning muse.

Tea still rules by sheer volume, crossing continents and cultures, but coffee has swagger. Venturing into this new world, I quickly realized I needed a guide. Coffee comes with its own cryptic vocabulary: “signature roasts,” “blonde,” “medium,” “dark,” terms that might as well be spells. According to Starbucks, blonde beans are roasted briefly, leaving maximum caffeine and surprisingly mellow flavor. Dark beans roast longer, expand, lose caffeine, yet deliver the boldest taste. Science, flavor, irony, take your pick.

And so, my foray into café arabica begins: a careful evolution of taste, ritual, and survival. One mug at a time, of course, because some instincts, ancient or caffeinated, never get patched.