I have always had ophidiophobia, which is an intense fear of snakes. Right from childhood, I have dreaded snakes, no matter the size—whether as tiny as an earthworm or as big as you could imagine. It gets even worse when I see one around our home or, even inside my room or any other room at home. I have heard stories about how deadly a snake bite can be and how some victims of snake bites have been sent to an early grave, hence the morbid fear I have of snakes.
Living in an environment with many farms and bushes around, snakes were common reptiles; you could literally see one any time of the day and anywhere, including your compound. It gets even worse during the dry season when they all crawl out of their hiding places to sunbathe. Snakes often do this to regulate their body temperature, as they are ectothermic and rely on external heat sources to warm up their bodies. So, once it's dry season, prepare to welcome uninvited guests.
One time, I was relaxing on our verandah with some kids from our neighborhood. These kids like to come around sometimes with their youngest sibling, who is barely 2 years old. They were playing, and I was taking care of the little one when suddenly a green, slimy snake appeared out of nowhere.
I didn't notice at first until the oldest boy called my attention to show me a snake not too far from where I was sitting. I screamed my lungs out and shouted to the kids to run for their safety. I myself had already run three miles away from the verandah. My scream was loud enough to attract many neighbors who came to check why I was screaming at the top of my voice on a hot afternoon. I had awoken the entire neighborhood, and my only explanation was that I saw a snake.
The snake managed to escape from the cold hands of death, but my fear didn't leave me. I was traumatized and refused to step foot into the verandah or anywhere near home. I assumed the snake was hanging around and might return later, hence why I refused to go home. I waited outside until mom returned, and I filled her in on what had happened in her absence, but she just shrugged it off.
You know that feeling when you are telling a story that is supposed to be horrific, but the listener is obviously not shaken? That was how I felt. I mean, I had just told a story about a snake, but mom was unbothered, Not like I expected her to cringe thou.
After much persuasion, I managed to go home with her. Throughout the week after I saw the snake, I was in fear and would often run out of the room at the slightest noise, shouting. I had seen a snake, and I couldn't unsee it.
It always happens that whenever I see a snake around home, I won't be able to enter the rooms unless I am accompanied by someone. If I eventually managed to get inside, I'd often run out at the slightest noise or movement. Sleeping was even more difficult; one of my siblings would have to stay with me in my room until I had fallen deeply asleep. Even then, if I felt any weird touch on my body while sleeping, I'd quickly jump out of bed.
In movies and Instagram reels I have seen, people often have big snakes like pythons and cobras hung around their necks, and I wonder how they do it. Not to mention those who keep them as pets. Pets? You have to be kidding. Why take the risk of keeping something that is capable of ending your life within a few seconds as a pet? What's so beautiful about them? I mean, is life not precious to such people? My fearful self of snakes would never.
I have had close encounters with snakes numerous times, and it was not a very nice experience, so why would I keep them as pets? Kudos to those who work with snakes in zoos and those who keep them as pets. Whatever gave them the guts and courage to do so should please stay far from me. I refuse to be convinced that snakes can be loving creatures if tamed.
Credits image from freepik