Rats!
Rats! No, I’m not swearing, I’m talking about those sinister, destructive, disgusting, obnoxious balls of lassa fever inducing fur! I have gotten to the stage in my life where I desist from questioning God’s decisions because for one He never ever explains Himself to me which is not surprising seeing as He is God and I am. . . well, Sheddy. If the option were open to me though there is a shortlist of creatures I would sanction including flies, cockroaches and mosquitoes. The cream of this despicable crop is for me the rat. All these abide but the greatest is the rat.
I must quickly pacify my Tiv friends whose highly specialized palate has become accustomed to the exotic taste of rat. Please stay in your skin; my campaign isn’t against your veritable source of protein. The particular species of rattus rattus I excoriate here are not nearly so noble. Don’t think of the magazine ads of well fed grass cutters that are systematically bred in farms; consider rather the sickly, sickening marauders who live in gutters, soak-aways and ‘treasure’ laden refuse dumps. While this revolting sort may also grow fat, there is just something about them and their appearance which immediately says ‘disease and death’ to you unless you are extraordinarily desperate! As you may have guessed by now this is very personal: there are rats in my house, a particularly pernicious breed of tiny raiders. Naturally, I’m not finding it funny. Please don’t look away in embarrassment. If you have had rats in your house too then you understand my frustration. Those of you, dear readers, who have been spared the agony of battling this exasperating foe and therefore cannot relate should be thankful: no be small thing. Either way feel my pain. Unfortunately for me, a cat isn’t do-able right now. These things are horrible I tell you.
They enter everywhere at will and nothing is safe from them that isn’t locked up in a metal box with no openings whatsoever. But how many things can you keep in a fridge (which by the way, is probably stinking because PHCN hasn’t given you light in three days). I have had to block the space under my door because they have the uncanny ability to effortlessly glide through seemingly unfeasible gaps. So you’re chasing a rat, it runs into a corner and you think you have it then it disappears into thin air and you’re left scratching your straggly beard! But if they are so smart why do they eat discarded suya wrappings and plastic covers smelling of fish? Can’t they tell the substance is long gone? One of my revenge techniques is to cover my suya or akara wrappings in several layers of paper, thin enough to be smelt but too thick to be bitten through, before disposing of them and sure enough next morning I get the reward of seeing the evidence of a frustratingly fruitless night for the night hunters. The joy is second only to those rare occasions when I manage to catch one in my dust bin and clobber it to death with an empty beer bottle! Sheer ecstasy wallahi!
But its not an easy problem to solve because for one rats breed like there is no tomorrow and so like Medusa’s serpentine tresses, in the place of each one you kill will arise 10 more. The only solution that really works is to simply leave the area for them. I’m working on a plan that will get me a place either in one of them fancifully named estates in Lagos or Kirikiri Maximum. In the meantime I will carry on with my vigilante activities against them. Rats, be warned: Dick Tracy is on the streets so if you’re bad better get outta town!
I must quickly pacify my Tiv friends whose highly specialized palate has become accustomed to the exotic taste of rat. Please stay in your skin; my campaign isn’t against your veritable source of protein. The particular species of rattus rattus I excoriate here are not nearly so noble. Don’t think of the magazine ads of well fed grass cutters that are systematically bred in farms; consider rather the sickly, sickening marauders who live in gutters, soak-aways and ‘treasure’ laden refuse dumps. While this revolting sort may also grow fat, there is just something about them and their appearance which immediately says ‘disease and death’ to you unless you are extraordinarily desperate! As you may have guessed by now this is very personal: there are rats in my house, a particularly pernicious breed of tiny raiders. Naturally, I’m not finding it funny. Please don’t look away in embarrassment. If you have had rats in your house too then you understand my frustration. Those of you, dear readers, who have been spared the agony of battling this exasperating foe and therefore cannot relate should be thankful: no be small thing. Either way feel my pain. Unfortunately for me, a cat isn’t do-able right now. These things are horrible I tell you.
They enter everywhere at will and nothing is safe from them that isn’t locked up in a metal box with no openings whatsoever. But how many things can you keep in a fridge (which by the way, is probably stinking because PHCN hasn’t given you light in three days). I have had to block the space under my door because they have the uncanny ability to effortlessly glide through seemingly unfeasible gaps. So you’re chasing a rat, it runs into a corner and you think you have it then it disappears into thin air and you’re left scratching your straggly beard! But if they are so smart why do they eat discarded suya wrappings and plastic covers smelling of fish? Can’t they tell the substance is long gone? One of my revenge techniques is to cover my suya or akara wrappings in several layers of paper, thin enough to be smelt but too thick to be bitten through, before disposing of them and sure enough next morning I get the reward of seeing the evidence of a frustratingly fruitless night for the night hunters. The joy is second only to those rare occasions when I manage to catch one in my dust bin and clobber it to death with an empty beer bottle! Sheer ecstasy wallahi!
But its not an easy problem to solve because for one rats breed like there is no tomorrow and so like Medusa’s serpentine tresses, in the place of each one you kill will arise 10 more. The only solution that really works is to simply leave the area for them. I’m working on a plan that will get me a place either in one of them fancifully named estates in Lagos or Kirikiri Maximum. In the meantime I will carry on with my vigilante activities against them. Rats, be warned: Dick Tracy is on the streets so if you’re bad better get outta town!
obnoxious ball of lassa fever inducing fur? really sheddy ... you have a way with words. i love it!
ReplyDeleteHillarious, now I am really enjoying this!
ReplyDelete