My one-bedroom apartment had been left uninhabited for a while before that fateful morning. I reappeared to claim what was rightfully mine. I was the one that paid the rent, cleaned the place and I also owned the radio and the mattress. I took the key from under the doormat where I normally kept it (all my friends know this). I inserted it into the lock and thew open the door, I came face to face with a coup d’etat. My rodent roommates had taken over the government of my apartment!
To be candid, these rats had always been around. I’m an avid believer in political tolerance, so no qualms since the space was large enough for all of us. The rats would take their positions in the corners of the room and watch television with me. You could see many of them were enlightened as they nodded their heads as the newscaster made his points. Other times they would help clean up remnants of food I was too tired to finish. Our relationship had always been symbiotic until iniquity was found in Lucifer. Or rather Ratcifer.
Ratcifer (that’s what I call their leader) took a sly look at me and hissed. They had already desecrated my temple with excrement. One even had the audacity to urinate on my mother’s picture. Ratcifer was using my favorite armchair as throne. The rats were so many. Invitation must have gone round to the other rural and urban rats to join in the celebration of the epoch-making event- the enthronement of Ratcifer.
This holy anger welled up inside me, a genocide was imminent; I was going to kill Ratcifer and his colleagues. I gave the kind of yell typical of the Chinese fighters you get to see in movies as I stomped into their rebellious congregation.
They scampered in all directions. I began the chase. As I ran after Ratcifer, I saw an obese rodent who obviously was their food minister. The guy had sigle-handedly wrecked my kitchen. So I forgot Ratcifer for a while and went after food minister. We ran around in circles for about ten minutes when I saw a silky skinned rodent waving a piece of what used to be my cherished Sunday-best silk tie. It was a gift from my fiance. That was the limit. I redirected my fury at the insolent imp.
To cut a long story short, I ran around for the better part of an hour without nailing a single one of those rats. My interest shifted as I saw new attractions which in the real sense were distractions. I was panting like a bitch on heat after the futile zero-success exercise. I should have directed all my energy at Ratcifer I regrettably concluded.
Many times we chase many rats all at once. We run after many divergent issues. Yes, we are sincere in our multi-directional pursuits, but a life without focus ultimately hits nothing. Identify Ratcifer, that big, all important ugly frog of a task or goal, concentrate and nail it!
There is something about light, if the rays are focused, you can start a fire with it. Dispersed light cannot perform that feat. Have your heard of laser ray? It’s an acronym for Light Amplification by Stimulated Emission of Radiation (or something like that). In plain English it’s light of the same
quality sent out as a coherent focused ray. You can cut through steel with it. And you are a light! You are practically unstoppable if you are focused on your God-given assignment.
If you must chase rats, chase them one at a time.
(Written in my bachelor days. My wife has ostracized rats in our new home.)