For the past 10 months I’ve lived here, Kulambiro has generally been a safe neighborhood, save for one problem; this gang of village bandits who can’t be touched by the law. Led by a black eerie female member we’ve come to call Cyclops because of her not-so-attractive left eye; they prowl house to house rummaging through dumpsters for food, leaving behind a wreckage in their wake.
It doesn’t help much that the rear side of the house block is not very spacious, so the farthest you can place your rubbish is on the veranda right behind the backdoor to your house, tied up in those big black polybags. But should you have anything fishy or meaty in there, then Cyclopes and her criminal gang will rip that shit up and expose your diet to the whole neighborhood, along with whatever you may have tried to conceal in there. A while ago, a visitor to a neighbor (it could only have been a visitor) was so naive as to wrap her used sanitary pads along with the rubbish, oblivious to Cyclopes’ taste for blood.
Perhaps more annoying than Cyclopes is her boyfriend, Scrawny; the professional burglar who has a preference for self served food. Forget your kitchen window open and you’ll be sure to catch Scrawny limping out with milky whiskers and a few broken glasses on the kitchen floor.
Last Sunday, Cyclopes redefined “kamanyiro”. While cleaning up, the neighbor on the right stumbled upon Cyclopes breastfeeding her litter under her fridge. The mother having fled through the window, my neighbor wrapped up Cyclopes’ younglings and dragged them out of the house, soliciting for ideas from us, the other two neighbors, on how to deal with the predicament.
The consensus was that they can’t be left to live, not in our neighborhood at least. And going by the looks of their mother, you can’t even think of fobbing them off on your worst enemy for adoption. They had to die, the disagreement was on the how.
My neighbor on the left suggested that they be thrown in the pit latrine, but these bastards are known to have more than 8 lives, the thought of losing sleep for a week because these little bastards decided to lose a life a day didn’t sit well with me so I suggested a quicker death.
“You could wrap them in a kaveera and throw it in the middle of the road on your way to work.” I suggested. “Anyone driving by can squish them and that will give them a quick and painless death. Better yet, their blood would be on the driver, not you; so win-win.” I paused with a bingo smug on my face. But in that moment, everyone’s faced dropped and they looked at me like I was a Mukiga from Rukungiri.
Realizing my suggestion was met with more abhorrence than enthusiasm, I decided to excuse myself and let the neighborhood intervention proceed without my input. I later learnt that the kittens were dumped in a neighboring bush. If they survive the cold, they will grow up to join the infamous gang that won’t let us aerate our homes.