Posted in Cave Tales, Uncategorized

The Invader – Written by Oghenekevbe Egume

You pipo should coman see me this evening. The heavens saved your brother.
I got into my house and locked the door behind me. Dark as usual na. No wahala. Went straight to the kitchen to get something to eat.
I dropped the plate on the table when I head a slight shuffle and I realised I wasn’t alone. In my own house again (rented but still… *shouts* my own house again!!!! Coman beat me)

I kept quiet and the noise went away. I put off my phone light.
Total darkness. A little shuffle to my left and my leg touched something that wasn’t there before. I thought it was someone and I flashed the torch immediately. Lo and behold! It was a very confident cockroach.
Arms akimbo (don’t ask me) surveying like it owned the house.
The useless black fella entered into the house with me.
You say? I…can’t hear you…
Oh why fella?
The idiot exuded male confidence. It stinks from afar. If you know the smell of a male anything with unnecessary ego (case in point: he-goat. But then, aren’t they all he-goats? Don’t answer that), you’d recognise that maleness of the black roach.

I pointed the light in his face, lighting up his ego so even someone from space would see him. He ran under the chair. Chair that I don’t move unless temporary insanity comes and I change the position of everything in the house which probably happens every three months or so.

Okay, where was I ? The egotistical black he-roach. With all his muscles, he ran under the chair. His antennae was saying stuff like coman beat me. You say? How do I understand? Mscheew! Question for the gods.

When you want to fight a roach, FIRST THINGS FIRST.
– Remove your dinner from the sitting room and take it straight to the kitchen.
– Spend considerable time making sure there are no visitor roaches in the kitchen waiting to pounce on your food and give you leprosy.
– Wait a little more while hoping the problem would go away.
– Suddenly remember that you can never sleep in a house with the knowledge that a roach would molest you at night.
– Strip. What? You say? Of course, your clothes! The best defence a good offence or something like that.
– You guessed right. You’re going to molest the roach.

That was how I bore down on the roach with the power of seven thunders. Did it die? We all know roaches don’t die at once. They do something scary first. So the idiot climbed my wall. I climbed after it.
With my hand holding a broom Forgetting the force of the broom on the cockroach’s forehead. I threw it outside my door. Into the cold.
That is where the weeping and the gnashing of its thorax and mandibles would be. #CockroachCrush

Three minutes, a hand-wash and ten spoonfuls later, I heard pixies tap-dancing on my floor. I picked up my sachet of pure-water from the arm rest on the chair and cleaned the floor. Hey stranger, You came. You saw. I can assure you, you didn’t die in vain. At least not yet. Maybe just before morning, the ants beneath you.
Goodnight stranger.
PS: you taste like chicken to ants.

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