Reading about fish that have developed ‘mosquito nets' to ensure a good sleep brought back memories. But first let me tell you more about these inventive coral reef fish who spin cocoons to keep away biting marine parasites. Apparently, they spend their time building these protective coverings before retiring for the night. How cool is that?
When I think of summers back home, I think of the scourge of that season - mosquitoes. Growing up in large army bungalows with huge compounds meant a lot of foliage which afforded these creatures a cool haven.
The advent of the hot season saw the arrival of sickle-wielding grass cutters, groups of itinerant men and women who were willing to clear the grass which they could sell as fodder. We loved watching them at work, marvelling at the systematic way they worked, creating clearings as if by magic as the stacks of shorn grass grew in number and height. Soon there seemed to be an awful lot of space and we rejoiced at the sight. We enthusiastically marked out badminton courts and cricket pitches.
All we could think of was the long stretch of holidays ahead which promised an unending session of fun and games as we indulged non-stop in outdoor activities from morning onwards till fading light made the retrieval of a ball well nigh impossible and brought play to an end.
Inside the house, preparations were in full swing. Mosquito nets were brought out from cupboards or boxes, washed and aired. Metal rods were slotted into the beds, forming a framework over which the nets were draped.
There was an evening ritual which was faithfully observed. As the sun sank in the horizon, doors and meshed windows were closed tight to keep the predators out. Any lapse in this precautionary measure was severely reprimanded. Then a battery of weapons was unleashed. Hand pumps filled with liquid repellent were used to spray crevices, nooks and crannies where these were wont to lurk. One got used to the strong smell as it seemed a small price to pay for undisturbed sleep.
Final check
There was a bed check to ensure that the edges of the mosquito nets were tucked tightly under the mattress so as to leave no gaps which could be mistaken for an open invitation. Any stray mosquito spotted against the white background was summarily squashed. The early bird here wasn't going to get the worm.
Some evenings we sat outside with friends, braving the heat and hoping for a stray breeze to stir the oppressive atmosphere. But soon the enemy began their onslaught, zooming in on our flesh, attacking from all quarters while we slapped our arms and shuffled our feet, hoping that the constant movement would thwart the attempt to find a resting place on any part of our anatomy. But all our defensive actions were in vain.
Not only did they manage to sneak up on us and begin feasting on our blood but the whining sound they made was like a war cry. It was always a losing battle and soon the conversation would peter out as we concentrated all our energies on evading the stinging assault.
A short while later we would admit defeat and seek the shelter of the house. As we entered, we would be greeted with cries of "Close the door quickly" and "Don't let the mosquitoes in". As the lumps and bumps surfaced on one's skin, there was a liberal application of gel repellents but it was too little too late.
Living in this country free of this menace means a dulling of our resistance to these stealth fighters when we go home on holiday. Our inability to cope with these pests is treated as the finicky ways of ‘foreigners' who seem to have forgotten where they came from!
