The species of pangolin compromise their own order: Pholidota.
by Hannah Storm
Pholi – A folly is something stupid.
Dota – She’s learning phonics at school. This is how she would spell daughter.
He said I was fucking stupid. Ordered me to get rid of it. I cradled my belly’s soft shell as it grew.
‘Pangolin’ comes from the Malay ‘pengguling’, loosely meaning something that rolls up.
Later I stuffed into a rucksack all we needed to survive, hiding our future beneath my bed. I curled up by her cot.
Special glands near the pangolin’s anus secrete a pungent fluid as a defence mechanism.
Now the court toilet smells of the fear of losing my child.
That last night, he came home drunk. I’d not showered for two days between the feeding, burping, changing, rocking, cooking. He hissed at me when I begged him to be quiet.
You smell ripe. He tore at my clothes. Why can’t you make a fucking effort? Pinned me to the bed. Cried when he came. Then she cried too. By the time I had settled her, he was snoring. The room reeked of shame.
Pangolins are nocturnal animals. Their shells made of keratin the same substance as human hair and nails.
In the shower I scrubbed myself raw, let the water sear my scalp. Impossible to feel clean.
The mother curls up around the baby pangolin if she senses danger.
He left for work. Then we left. I clasped her to me, promising he would not hurt us again.
Now I hear my name, calling me to Court.
The endangered pangolin is the world’s most trafficked animal; its body parts are sold as a delicacy or used for their mythical healing properties.
When my daughter is older, I will teach her how to protect herself. One day I will explain what being endangered really means.