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It was good living in the desert. My ancestors built big burrows in the orange sand, and furnished them with characteristic meerkat tastefulness.

The days were long and hot. In mornings, when it was cooler, the meerkats would dig for grubs. In the afternoons, when it was hot and they were full of lunch, they would lie in the sun or take long, luxurious dust baths. (Just as I do now, although I prefer bubbles to dust.)

HERE is picture from movie where Seri is being bamboozled by empty tin. Sergei play this scene well, he is good at being bamboozled by everything.

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 bedraggly and full of fleas. Perhaps he remind you of someone?), were the most courageousness of them 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 his flea tweezers.

The only ‘ointment in the flies’ was the neighbouring tribe of mongooses. They were always sneak into meerkat burrows late in night and make thieves of themselves. Also, on windy days, their stinkiness would get in everyone’s nostrils and make them feel sick.

But not including the mongooses, my ancestors lived happy lives. Grubs were caught, and pups were born.

Sometimes, when Kefentse would return from a hunt (with Seri laden up with scorpion) he would invite meerkats from miles around to join their 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 like this, Kefentse would look out across the plains and think: “Ours is a simples life. What could possibles go wrong?”

Then, one fateful day, disaster struck.

Having stirred from his burrow and done his sand bath exercises – sometimes his haunches could be stiffs in the morning - Kefentse went into the desert in search of fresh 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.

THIS is very old cave painting, as you can tell by how fadey it is. My ancestors would sit round fire singing the famous ‘Scorpion Toasting Song’ which has been hand down through many generation.

It had been a hot summer. The air was dry and uncomfortabling. Kefentse had never known it to be like this. The hunger in his belly turned to worryness.

That night, the meerkats sat around the fire and had discussion. 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, but it was still nasty shock.

Kefentse realised that he now had no choice but to leave to find foods. He had to find somewhere with wet rains and plants, somewhere with grubs and cockroaches where he could bring up pups and make a whole new life.

So Kefentse gathered all the belongings that Seri could carry and boarded up his burrow. 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.

THE two intrepid adventurers were scratched and tangled and weakened by the sandstorms. And always with the hunger grumbling at them.

THIS genuine real sand from Kalahari. When I dip into jar with my claw, and breathe the air I feel connection with my ancestors and all they suffered. Sand also work as excellent exfoliant.

CHAPTER The 2

Escape

THE meerkats walked for days and days.