Woeful Attempt
Emma was rich, and he was really good at catching bush meats. He sold them for at least #600, which felt like a lot of money as of back then when Naija's financial corruption was still kinda minimal.
I was jealous because while he bought all sorts of snacks at school, I was stuck with my small #100 snack pocket money.
One day, my dad came home from work with an iron trap. I had been begging him one for months! I was so happy! "This is my chance!" I thought, hoping for the best time to lay my new trap.
The next day, I set my trap eagerly. I picked a nice spot near the bushes where I saw some wild animal activity on the root of crops. I was filled with hope and anticipation as I slept that particular night.
I couldn’t wait to catch something. But the next morning, I found... nothing! Just my neighbor’s cat, who seemed to be judging me for my failure.
I didn’t give up, though! I tried again the next day. And the week after. I kept setting that trap, thinking I would catch something delicious. But every morning brought disappointment. No bush meat. No success. No fancy snacks like Emma.
By the third week, even the cat had lost interest in me and just slept in the middle of my trap. I could almost hear it laughing at me.
Finally, I gave up. I realized I wasn’t going to be a great trap setter. I would have to stick to my small #100 for snacks.
I was jealous because while he bought all sorts of snacks at school, I was stuck with my small #100 snack pocket money.
One day, my dad came home from work with an iron trap. I had been begging him one for months! I was so happy! "This is my chance!" I thought, hoping for the best time to lay my new trap.
The next day, I set my trap eagerly. I picked a nice spot near the bushes where I saw some wild animal activity on the root of crops. I was filled with hope and anticipation as I slept that particular night.
I couldn’t wait to catch something. But the next morning, I found... nothing! Just my neighbor’s cat, who seemed to be judging me for my failure.
I didn’t give up, though! I tried again the next day. And the week after. I kept setting that trap, thinking I would catch something delicious. But every morning brought disappointment. No bush meat. No success. No fancy snacks like Emma.
By the third week, even the cat had lost interest in me and just slept in the middle of my trap. I could almost hear it laughing at me.
Finally, I gave up. I realized I wasn’t going to be a great trap setter. I would have to stick to my small #100 for snacks.
