Walking around Rwinkwavu, you get to see plenty of poop. Cow and goat poop are the most common but on a good day, you might glimpse some bird poop. Only on a good day though.

A few nights ago, Ally and I were walking home when we walked into the smell of human poop. Spend enough time around latrines and toilets with no running water, and you get to figuring it out all the many smells human poop can take on. This was definitely poop of the human variety.

It was unmistakable, but it wasn’t that big of deal. It was a few feet from the path and there was plenty of brush. We shrugged it off. After all, everybody poops.

Well tonight, our serial pooper went a poop too far. Our pooper crossed a line that no reasonable human being should cross. Our pooper pooped a perfect poop on the path.

There was no sign of struggle. I could understand if there was struggle. After all, we’ve all fought diarrhea and lost, but there was no battle of wills here. The pooper had plenty of time to decide. The pooper chose to poop and chose where to poop.

I can imagine how it all went down in the nutter‘s head.

Where should I poop? Should I poop in the latrines? No. That would be convenient.
Should I poop in the bushes? No. That’s exactly what they are expecting.
I know. I will poop on the path. Right where Yaw walks, that’s where I shall poop.

Fortunately, Meera spotted the poop for quite a distance and we were able to avoid it. In my time here, I’ve seen some crazy things in my life, but this one…well, it’s some shit, ain’t it?