Chapter 1: In The Beginnings.
In the beginnings my ancestors live in Kalahari Desert in Africa. Their life was full of endangerment and adventure and complicated names. I think you will find it interest because it is, after all, where I am comings from. It was good living in the desert. My ancestors built big burrows in orange sand and furnished them with meerkat tastefulness.
The days were long and hot. In the mornings, when it was cooler, the meerkats would dig for grubs. In the afternoon, when it was hot and they were full of lunch, they would lie in sun or take long, luxurious dust baths. This is similar to me now, although I prefer bubbles to dust.
On cold nights, the gang would gather round the fire and tell stories of courageousness. My ancestor, Kefentse Orlah and his loyal companion Seri who was grey and debraggly and full of fleas (perhaps he remind you of someone), were the most courageousness of all. Kefentse would tell great stories of the dangers they had face. The meerpups would sit and listen with expression of wonderment. Seri would sit busy with flea tweezers.
My ancestors lived very happy lives. Grubs were caught and pups were born.
Sometimes, when Kefentse would return from a hunt he would invite meerkats from miles around to join in great feast. They would come with warm worm puddings and bottles of beetle juice. Together they would roast scorpions on the fire as the meerpups played on their burrow sleighs.
On nights life this, Kefentse would look out across the plains and think; "Ours is a simples life. What could possibles go wrong?"
Then one fateful day, disasters struck.
Having stirred from his burrow and done his sand exercises – sometimes his haunches would be stiffs in the morning – Kefentse went into the desert in search of breakfast. Two hours later he had found nothing. This was a bamboozlement and totally unexpectedness. He looked out over the plain. The green shrubs which were dot all over the desert sands were now all grey and shrivelly.
It had been hot summer and the air was dry and uncomfortabling. Kefentse had never known it to be like this and hunger in his belly soon turn to worryness.
That night, the meerkats sat around the fire and had discussions. There was no food. A great famine had come to the land and the landscape was getting dryer and dryer. The situation was absolute serious. Each burrow had enough tinned grubs to last a month or two but after that… who could know?
Then one day, Kefentse awoke to an abominable discovery. Under cover of night-time, a mob of mongoose had crept into his burrow and thieved the last of his tinned grubs. This was typical mongoosery tactic but it was still nasty shock.
Kefentse realised that he now had no choice but to leave to find food. He had to find somewhere with wet rains and plants, somewhere with grubs and cockroaches where he could bring up pups and make whole new life.
So Kefentse gathered all the belongings that Seri could carry and board up his burrows. The two brave meerkats said goodbye to their home and to their friends, waved a defiant two-claw salute in the direction of the stinky mongoose burrows and set off across the desert.