Bed Bugs vs. Sharks

Miami Heat star Jimmy Butler en route to somewhere with a bucket.

It’s something I can never say in a room full of people because it will confirm the suspicion that I’ve lost it completely, full blown madness.

I wouldn’t blame them because the title is like pouring water in a basket. It can never happen. Let’s start with size. Bed bugs are smaller than lint. Sharks are big like an elephant when it’s sitting down. Next is habitat. Bed bugs have a permanent address in beds we don’t make every morning, mattresses we don’t put out in the sun once a month and bedrooms we don’t vacuum. Sharks live in water. Then comes nutrition. Sharks have a variety of seafood at their disposal, while bed bugs have only me.

A baby shark is born somewhere on the high seas or ocean basement. Mama and baba shark take care of it, teach it how to swim and how to dive for food. Bed bugs on the other hand are family, my own blood, my own creation.  I create them and they feed on me. Call it suicide. How about initiation? 

Life is dangerous, like swimming in shark infested waters, but most of the danger is self-induced. Bed bugs come from within. I take decisions that are injurious to my physical  and mental well-being. They also affect  how the world reacts to me. I don’t need an introduction when I enter a room. The world thinks it knows me because of how I look. They know my race, which is as big as a shark.

One of the reasons why they kill sharks is envy. They are too beautiful for words, but the envy is not publicly acknowledged. However, the internet sometimes gives me the feeling that race men and women are their own bed bugs. Create and destroy. Maybe what I see online is the race saying slavery and racism is behind us. Let’s party and mutilate the shark ourselves. The world audience claps and stands up for encore.

By: Nonqaba waka Msimang.