its rainy season, and that means the bug invasion.
It seems to be Rainy Season.
Tonight I was grading, or marking papers as they say here, at the Ashesi Library. It had rained most of the day, that torrential kind of rain that makes you think it will never end, and then suddenly it does. The skies open up and the only evidence it had been raining are the raging riverlets of water flowing. The air is clear and the sky is so blue it is hard to remember that just moments ago it was raining, hard.
Around the campus it was pleasant cool evening, students were wearing sweaters and looking rather Ivy League. Windows in library were wide open letting in a cool night breeze.
Four winged insects
Then swarms of flying insects invade. Four winged bugs kamakazing the library lights, crashing to the tile floor, landing wing-side down, and buzzing around until they are able to flip and take flight again.
buzzing the library lights. This picture doesn’t show the sheer number of insects.
It’s the end of the term, so the study tables, generally filled with students, are now stacks of books for inventory. I feel most comfortable in the library, being around the students, and tonight the flying insects.
A couple of my students see me taking pictures of the happenings and ask permission to ask me a question. Its about the upcoming final paper. In turn I ask them about the bugs, as in what kind are they?
“Termites,” they say inwardly laughing at me in the sort of Ghanaian way that says, “everyone knows that.”
What brings them out tonight?
“The rains.” We watch them beat their wings with such speed it is as if they are trying to separate from their wings. They look like really small dementors, of the Harry Potter films.
They beat their wings so fast
And then I look down and see the floor covered with wings
and then the wings fall off
and then wingless grubs moving like they have a purpose.
and they go looking for each other.
It doesn’t seem random, they walk with confidence and somehow, find one another.
“Actually,” one of my student says poking them with a stick, “they make a good source of protein.” Really?! Are you sure? I ask.
“Its true, The people of Upper East eat them. They fry them without oil.”
Hmmm, And do you like?
“Oh, as for me I have not taken them,” he says laughing inwardly again. Everyone knows that.
two of my students.