HOW NOT TO BE A RAT IN MY HOUSE

There are so many ways to be a rat in my house and I know  you know them already, since you have settled down quite nicely.In your greed,just like Lot,when Abraham lovingly offered him the land on the left or the right,you have chosen the juicier(land flowing with milk and honey part)....but in your case Cerelac and Danish Cookies parts of the land.

But just like Abraham,I am loving,and I have decided to tell you a few things on how not to be a rat in my house.Because I have given up struggling within myself as to whether you belong here or not.I’ve tried severally...remember those days when we waged war....seven days and seven nights...I kept vigil....I shudder to think...

I’ve decided to call a truce....you stay on your own and I’ll stay on my own...agreed...I think I hear you say ..."Thank God". Indeed he is your God,because he made all things...and he said "It is good."*smh*

So,listen carefully so that we may live in peace henceforth...

As a rat in my house,

• You may not come out in plain view when I am watching Naija Sings in the evening with my family—I’m inclined to compare the voices of the contestants with your sounds and, I don't like to be mean that way...and definitely do not come out when I’m writing or typing—it distorts my imagination and I end up writing things like I’m writing now.
• You may not eat of the (tree of knowledge of good and evil)...things like ChooChoo’s Cerelac,my Agege bread, the Danish Cookies meant for visitors and of course Old Yam(you may eat New Yam).
• You will not (ever)stop and say hello, when you see Choo Choo crawling on the floor.He is minding his business,please mind yours! He may be tempted to pick you up by your tail and fling you up over his head (Your innards may splatter in all directions and I cannot clean up such a mess).ChooChoo is not your contemporary; he may look just a little bigger than you,but he is not in your league.Please understand.And of course,if he is the first one to say hello,do not answer.
• You will not chew ChooChoo’s feet,no matter how tempted you are.I chew his feet occasionally ,and yeah he simpers in delight,but please don't try to copy me; you may not know where to draw the line.There are so many things for you to chew all over the house.Have you noticed the old pile of newspapers under the kitchen cupboard?Yes,that one....I put it out for you.It's not very nutritious? Well,pity that!
• You may not hold clan meetings in my room when I’m asleep.That point where you go”Orato Kwenu” and your comrades reply “Yaa”, grates on my nerves so bad,I just want to........., and by the way ChooChoo sits up in his cot and looks around in pleasant bewilderment ,like he is wondering where you've been.I cannot rouse myself from my sweet slumber to pat him back to sleep...There is work at 8.00am.
• You may not pass through the door when I'm passing.Please show some respect.I am afterall your benefactor.(Do I hear you smirk?)*smh*
• You will not come out in full view of visitors.They may not understand.Screwing up their noses in feigned disgust,as if they do not harbour your relatives in their houses,they want me to believe they do not even know what you’re called. Spare me the embarrassment of trying to explain your presence,will you? And as long as the visitors are still here,tell your kids to stop their squibbling!
• You may not hold kitchen parties when I’m out,incase I come back with a visitor.
• Do not ever (ever) try and die in a hidden place.

I,as you know,will never try and kill you on purpose,but once in a while I have these overzealous househelps who claim to know just the trick to annihilate your race permanently,and in your hurt and feeling of betrayal,you send one of your lowly servants to die at the back of the cupboard behind the freezer.

I see through that particular line of action, the aim being to let us search and search for the source of such putrid smell,while all the while wearing gas masks-- even ChooChoo.
I know you feel betrayed,but it is not my fault,how do I tell the maid not to bother,that we have a pact,an agreement,you and me,without risking an awkward sidelong glance(This Madam don dey crase!)
By the way,I admire your calculated intelligence; you send a dispensable servant to die,while you the dons,the king-pins, the bigs boys, roll over in ectasy,(the ectasy of the act guaranteed to produce offspring in lieu of your dispensable servant.)
My name is Berry.Yours?
"Okonkwo"
"Ah,I see..."


If you don’t do these things,Okonkwo,we’ll be just fine and I’ll reject the next maid who seems to have that (I know just the thing to do to rats) gleam in her eyes!

Love always,
Berry FeistyPen.


Tut!Tut!...and since we'll be bumping into each other now and again,it'll make sense if we were on first name basis.