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GAL FRIDAY: This thing called Zika


Veoma Ali

GAL FRIDAY: This thing called Zika

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YOU SEE THESE mosquitoes lately? They big and black, like they on steroids. These savage beasts like they have GPS. Anywhere I turn, they biting me all over. I wearing these yellow bracelets. Four, to be exact – on my ankles and my wrists. But these flying monsters like they have a foot fetish. Let me show you my ankles – it’s if I had a case of the German measles.

But I think I have a solution, at last. Cheryl Armstrong could concur with my concoction. I decided to soak a handful of clove in half a bottle of rubbing alcohol, with slight lemon and lavender oil. I know I may be sounding like Annette Maynard-Watson and you may be confusing this with the Healing Herbs column, but hear me out please. After five days I rubbed this onto my skin as a deterrent. Wherever I go, people turning up their noses, watching me funny because I smelling funny. But, better their noses than my ankles. Better their scowls than this thing called Zika.

What has me seriously concerned, though, is these genetically modified mosquitoes that a certain group of well-meaning scientists was letting out into the environment across the Americas. The hope was that the male genetically modified Aedes would mate with the normal female counterpart and this will result in self-destructing larvae. Of course, we almost on the verge of realizing that this didn’t exactly work out in the way the scientists planned.

So imagine. Let’s consider a similar scenario among our species now. Some smart people decide they don’t like how a certain set of people behave. Let’s take the litterbugs. My favourite minister of the week, our Education Minister and me decide we will genetically modify people so the nasty habit doesn’t spread. (Yes, in your imagination, Minister Jones and I are both bright scientists). So, we decide to genetically modify a fella and send him out to find a dirty lady.

While doing the dirty, the lady flings things all over the place. Her behaviour may upset the genetically modified male, because his modification abhors her nature. But they multiply and our plan has gone awry. Instead of self-destruction, there are twins. Twins whose habits are twice as horrible! So, these twins not only pelting garbage all over the place, but they exhibit all kinds of bad behaviour … and like exposing their bottoms on top of all that. Can you imagine it? Sounds like we already there, you say?

I have to admit: when I heard the word “crack” mentioned by the minister, I was kinda frightened, at first. But then I realised it was the bottom cracks he was talking about. So, I have to say that I fully agree with Minister Jones. One hundred per cent. I saw two cracks in the last two days – one in Welches and one while trying to have lunch. The latter crack killed my appetite. Remember that advertising campaign, “Crack kills?” Well, I continue to encourage you: “Just say no!”

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