Adventist Mission

Ant Attack!

Ethiopia is a land of many natural wonders. Every day, I am amazed by God’s creative beauty around me. Endangered colobus monkeys raid the guava tree in our backyard. Elegant paradise fly catchers flit from their perch on our fence, their long, white tails gracefully swishing the air. A seasonal thunderstorm soaks the blooming wild poinsettias lining our walkway. Yes, I marvel at Ethiopian nature on a regular basis. This past Sabbath, however, my marveling reached an entirely new level, with an unexpected subject – ants.

I had been feeling sick that Friday night, and was still sub-optimal when I rose shortly before sunrise on Sabbath morning. Stumbling groggily into the bathroom to wash my face, I barely noticed the little black trail winding along the tiled floor. The ant scurrying along the edge of the sink did arrest my attention, however. “How odd,” I thought, “I’ve never seen one there before.” It was then that a straggler from the little black trail found his way up my foot and sunk his pincers into my sock. Suddenly I was fully awake. Following the trail across the floor and up the wall, I found its source at our bathroom window. I shrugged. Ah well – at least they were entering our bathroom this time instead of endangering our precious food in the kitchen.

“Ant attacks” happen on a regular basis at this season in Gimbie. Paul and I have both become adept at halting their progress by means of a deadly can of Roach Killer. I dutifully massacred the troops in the bathroom and headed to the back porch where they were presumably scaling the wall to our window. I had to pass through the kitchen on the way… where I was met by three more black winding trails! My, they’re persistent this morning, I thought to myself as I detonated my can of destruction in their direction. But then I opened the back door. And froze in terror. The whole back wall of our house was black with ants.

Dropping my half-empty can of Roach Killer, I bolted inside. “Paaauuul!!!” I burst into the bedroom and yanked the mosquito netting aside from our bed. “What’s up, Gifti?” Paul inquired sleepily, using my Oromiffa nick name. "We’re almost out of Roach Killer, and I killed them in the bathroom, but the whole house is black!” “Huh?” “We’re under an ant attack!!” “Oh.” Paul was completely unfazed. “Well, let’s see what we can do.”

The scene was indeed grim, as we peaked through the doorway onto the back porch. We only had half a can of deadly spray. After a fervent prayer and a quick brainstorming consultation, we decided to overwhelm the enemy by unexpected creative approaches. Paul lit a cardboard box on fire and threw the flaming parcel into the midst of them. I ran rapidly up and down the length of the porch, casting borax powder in every direction. We began boiling water, and sloshed them with multiple pots fresh off the gas stove. Every venture onto the battlefield meant at least two or three bites – the ants had swarmed up the roof over our porch – we were dive-bombed from above by paratroopers. We weren’t the only ones suffering, however. The wood-boring bees which had been destroying our rafters were now devoured by the ants’ hungry jaws.

An hour later, we stood and surveyed the scene. Steaming water swirled in little puddles, ash and borax powder were scattered generously about, and the corpses of our foes banked the edge of the porch. They were vanquished! And yet, what a morbid scene… I have always loved bugs, and won’t deny that I was touched with a degree of sadness as I gazed upon our victory. But comfort was on the way. A paradise fly catcher fluttered down from the fence and began to hungrily clean away the bodies. The newly risen sun cast its beams through the guava foliage. God was still able to shine his rays of beauty into the midst of all this carnage. Paul put his arm around my shoulders. “Happy Sabbath, Gifti!” he said. “Happy Sabbath, Paul.” I replied.

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