Beneath the Hum of the Bees. Runner-Up in The Second First Time Challenge.
Requeening the Hive: Part I
May 16, 2017
Dear Liya,
As you know, there is an ancient saying in Ethiopia about the art of beekeeping:
“When the daughters grow wild, it is time to send for a new mother.”
What you need to remember is this: sometimes the hive grows hot. Sometimes the gentlest of bees become hostile—proving aggressive when unprovoked. They will swarm. They will sting in large numbers. They will grow restless—following their keeper for miles. Their tempers will intensify, making tending to them perilous.
When this happens, it is impossible to calm them—even with smoke and persistence. You see, dear Liya, sometimes the bees cannot be forced to become what they were not meant to be.
Now, the hive can grow frenzied for various reasons, and a good yeẖonch-aby keeper will always take care to discern the root cause.
All too often, however, it’s the queen—her genetics. She may pass off defensive traits to her offspring—or, her pheromones, which regulate the workers' behaviors, may weaken.
This said, it can be difficult to determine if it is she that falters, or if some outside force is to blame. Because of this, my recommendation is to wait—to wait and watch the bees.
Bees are intelligent; they sense their queen is unfit before we do. If you wait—the signs will present themselves. A hot hive is the first clue. The bees grow furious, for nature depends on them whilst their inner kingdom crumbles into anarchy.
Rejection comes next: watch for anger that gives way to passivity. The bees will ignore her—no longer honoring her dances, no longer feeding or grooming her. This is when you’ll know it is her, Liya—when you'll know it is she who breeds chaos. This is when you’ll know it is time to requeen the hive.
And with the requeening of the hive comes the removing of the old queen. You did this with me once—when you were eight. Remember? I guided your hands into the hive to scoop her out, and together, we held the fragile heart of the colony in our palms.
It can be emotional, Liya. In fact, it can be world-shattering for many yeẖonch-aby. But it is necessary. And it must be done with respect.
So, when you cull her, do it gently. Use smoke to calm the hive; brush her gingerly from the brood with your fingertips. A single, firm pinch on the thorax is sufficient.
Then, more waiting begins.
You must wait 24–48 hours before introducing the new queen. It is essential the colony is given time to realize it is queenless; to become ready to accept a new leader.
One day, Liya, you shall requeen the hive—just as you once did.
If you take anything from my words, let it be this: do not underestimate the power of patience. Do not let urgency cloud your judgment. Wait—wait until you are sure. Wait until the moment hums as the hive does.
And let the colony guide you, my bee.
With much love,
Your Father
