Mbewa

I may be an entire ocean away, but I’ve still heard that my mom’s been spreading word of my recent, unexpected house guest. I suppose that means it makes for a good story and should be shared with everyone who hasn’t heard.

I woke up at about 2:30am a few Saturdays ago to the sound of rustling somewhere in my house. I decided the noise was coming from my sitting room, outside my bedroom door, but couldn’t quite figure out what it was. It didn’t sound like a person and I’ve always felt safe in my house, especially with my watchman outside, but nonetheless I was a bit nervous to get up and see what it was.

After a few minutes, I decided to emerge from my mosquito net, lit a candle and went to investigate. I’m not really sure why I chose a candle over my headlamp or a flashlight, but considering it was 2:30am I’ll excuse my lack of thought.

Anyway, after lighting my candle, I ventured into my sitting room, following the strange sound. Not only did I continue to hear the rustling but I was shocked to see an empty plastic rice bag moving across my floor!

Upon my entering the room, the bag stopped… and that’s when I saw him.

His long tail and nasty little face were quite visible through the clear plastic bag.

I wasn’t sure what to do. I’m not afraid of mice or bugs or anything like that, but still I didn’t grab the bag. Instead I unlocked my back door and found my watchman standing there, obviously wondering why I was up and what was going on. I looked at him frantically and said only “mbewa” the Chichewan word for mouse.

Well I’m sure he thinks I’m quite ridiculous. Mice are common house problems in Malawi and even more commonly eaten as roasted, side-dishes. Nonetheless, he entered my house, picked up the bag and escorted my unwelcome visitor outside.

Like me, you’re probably wondering what happened to the mouse. Unfortunately I was too embarrassed to bring it up in the morning, so we’ll never know for sure. It’s quite possible that he escaped, maybe even before my watchman was able to take him outside. Perhaps he’s still living in my house, looking for granola bar wrappers and dropped crumbs. But if I had to guess, I’d say the most likely fate of my little friend was death… by roasting.

I may have been shocked to find him, but I’d bet he turned out to be a tasty, late-night snack for my watchman.