Ghana Life: Even More About Ghanaian Snakes

Readers of these EzineArticles might find it surprising that someone who knows next to nothing about reptiles would publish three articles about snakes, but come to think of it, it seems that life in Kumasi in the 1970s and 1980s was one long sentence punctuated by snakes. That’s not to say that one was tripping over the squiggly substances every day, or emulating the Leaping Nuns of Norwich, just that they were never far away. Our two species did their best to avoid each other, but inevitably early warning systems failed and close encounters became inevitable.

Living on the sprawling pastoral campus of the Kwame Nkrumah University of Science and Technology, the staff houses were effectively sealed off, but one was aware of the green mambas in the garden trees. Fortunately, these creatures seemed to prefer to stay in the trees and were not included in the varieties of fauna that invaded our living space. The most dramatic of several domestic encounters involved a cobra*. This creature was found on a raised patio just outside the front door and inches from a cat flap through which it appeared to be about to enter the house, perhaps chasing a kitten named Smokey.

Determining the snake’s entrance involved taking up arms, but when confronted by a man with a large stick, it rose into the air, expanded its hood, opened its mouth wide, and spat. It is said that spitting cobras rarely miss the eyes of their attacker, but here is documentary evidence that, fortunately, they do occasionally. They also move very fast, and before a second strike could be attempted, the snake shot past his opponent, leaving a fleeting sense of wonder that his hood had completely deflated into the standard contours of a snake. fancy anatomy. The intruder slides down the edge of the courtyard strait 60 cm into his hole in the ground. Needless to say, access was soon effectively blocked, but a sneaky hope remained that the enemy he had fought so valiantly had another way out of his lair, preferably away from the house.

Another battle waged against various species of snakes over several months involved the loss of Canadian dairy cows. These animals were grazed on specially prepared pastures on the university campus with the long-term goal of crossing them with local N’dama cattle to produce an animal resistant to tropical diseases but generous in milk production. Unfortunately, the beautiful big black and white Friesian cows were denied to N’dama’s bony little brown bulls because they had little or no resistance to snake bites. Within a few weeks, eight or ten prize milkers had become victims of the serpentine’s resistance to encroaching on its ancestral habitat, and researchers at the Department of Animal Husbandry contemplated keeping the immigrants permanently detained in snake-proof housing.

Not only cows were victims of snake bites but also dogs. The loss of the stable keeper at the hands of a night adder has already been reported, despite the efforts of the university veterinarian. He suffered the same fate before the author’s own dog, Kwesi**, Smokey’s longtime companion, could be called the vet, but this is a story that is too painful to tell in detail. If the other tales provided the commas and settlers of the long life sentence in Kumasi, this tale must provide the full stop (full stop).

*Possibly Naja nigricollis for experts.
** Born on Sunday, with apologies to Ghanaians who may be offended by a dog being given a human name.

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