IHAVE SURVIVED extermination. For now. We have managed to stop their methodical destruction of our people.
Nothing seemed to be able to stop them. For ages, they have benefited from insurmountable technological superiority. They overwhelmingly outnumber us. They have been fed, generation after generation, by a fierce supremacist ideology. In their propaganda, we are said to be inferior, just because we are different. Because we speak another language, because our customs are not the same, because we do not look alike. They have a plan, which, in the end, will make them the only ones remaining. Some of us might see our lives spared, but only to be enslaved, like not so long ago. To serve them, to please them.
They even justify our mass slaughter. Of course, some courageous voices among them oppose it, but these few resistants are not in power, nor are they the majority. In a way, they are part of the system, which adapts to continue what it calls ‘the work’. Their leaders organize our genocide while the majority silently look elsewhere, although they know very well what is going on.
I sometimes feel that, even more than the sophisticated machinery of death launched against us, it is indifference that is killing us.
Their cruelty without borders does not end with our sadistic killing. Once we are dead, they use our bodies. They dismember us. They use our skin for decoration artefacts. Some say they eat our remains. They do not respect even the most fundamental values.
Some time ago, we were numerous. Now, we are just a handful. Afraid. Aware of the danger and of our structural weakness. But also, from now on, of our strengths – or, better said, of their weaknesses.
We may be erased from the surface of Earth tomorrow, but not without struggle. I want future generations to live and know that we were not only victims but also heroes. Our lives matter! Now is the time to give an eye for an eye! Now is the time to destroy their systemic hatred against us! Now is the time to dismantle thousands of years of deadly human supremacy! Now is the time to be free at last!
I say it loud and with pride: I am a Pangolin!
They even justify our mass slaughter. Of course, some courageous voices among them oppose it, but these few resistants are not in power, nor are they the majority. In a way, they are part of the system, which adapts to continue what it calls ‘the work’. Their leaders organize our genocide while the majority silently look elsewhere, although they know very well what is going on.
I sometimes feel that, even more than the sophisticated machinery of death launched against us, it is indifference that is killing us.
Their cruelty without borders does not end with our sadistic killing. Once we are dead, they use our bodies. They dismember us. They use our skin for decoration artefacts. Some say they eat our remains. They do not respect even the most fundamental values.
Some time ago, we were numerous. Now, we are just a handful. Afraid. Aware of the danger and of our structural weakness. But also, from now on, of our strengths – or, better said, of their weaknesses.
We may be erased from the surface of Earth tomorrow, but not without struggle. I want future generations to live and know that we were not only victims but also heroes. Our lives matter! Now is the time to give an eye for an eye! Now is the time to destroy their systemic hatred against us! Now is the time to dismantle thousands of years of deadly human supremacy! Now is the time to be free at last!
I say it loud and with pride: I am a Pangolin!
⸎ ⸎ ⸎
HERE IS HOW our revolt for survival started some time ago.
It was our sister أအনnនីնן who first tried to scent the alarm. After mysteriously vanishing a month earlier, she suddenly reappeared in our forest one night. The pestilential smell she exhaled, like a mix of rotten ants, decaying cadavers and vomit, was different from that of the fluid we are used to spreading to communicate among us. She did not look the same as before. Her beautiful keratin scales were broken. Her tail seemed rigid. Her eyes were strangely agitated. Our eyes are usually small and not very sharp. Hers were wide open, constantly moving, as if she was not only seeing us but also an alternate reality, something like hell. Her long snout looked like a sharp knife. Her tongue was dragging on the ground, dirty, but she did not seem to care. She was there, but she seemed to be elsewhere. She walked fast on the dry, dead leaves of the forest to meet each of us: she had come back to warn us, she communicated. Against what? That was not clear. She had a testimony to give. She wanted us to convene. This was highly unusual, as we hardly ever come together.
I may never live past the old age of two, I understood from أအনnនីնן’s scents. She had managed to gather us all, even the elders, who were sceptical at first. They had witnessed so many events in their long twenty years of life. They seemed to think: ‘What could our daughter share that is so new and important?’ Her ruined scales and the foul odor she used convinced them to listen.
We assembled on that same night. We followed her instructions. Out of security concerns, we silently and quietly left the forest. Not as a packed group, we never do that. But not far away from each other either. When we reached a clearing, we huddled around her, among the high grass, in the dark, with only the moon to illuminate our scales. No effort was needed to catch her tender olive eyes: they seemed inhabited by a burning fire and could be easily seen by all of us.
Silence.
The only noise we could hear was the light wind slightly stroking the high grass. No scent to disrupt the urine odors أအনnនីնן was about to spread. She was ready to start.
Had we believed her then, millions of lives may have been saved.
It was our sister أအনnនីնן who first tried to scent the alarm. After mysteriously vanishing a month earlier, she suddenly reappeared in our forest one night. The pestilential smell she exhaled, like a mix of rotten ants, decaying cadavers and vomit, was different from that of the fluid we are used to spreading to communicate among us. She did not look the same as before. Her beautiful keratin scales were broken. Her tail seemed rigid. Her eyes were strangely agitated. Our eyes are usually small and not very sharp. Hers were wide open, constantly moving, as if she was not only seeing us but also an alternate reality, something like hell. Her long snout looked like a sharp knife. Her tongue was dragging on the ground, dirty, but she did not seem to care. She was there, but she seemed to be elsewhere. She walked fast on the dry, dead leaves of the forest to meet each of us: she had come back to warn us, she communicated. Against what? That was not clear. She had a testimony to give. She wanted us to convene. This was highly unusual, as we hardly ever come together.
I may never live past the old age of two, I understood from أအনnនីնן’s scents. She had managed to gather us all, even the elders, who were sceptical at first. They had witnessed so many events in their long twenty years of life. They seemed to think: ‘What could our daughter share that is so new and important?’ Her ruined scales and the foul odor she used convinced them to listen.
We assembled on that same night. We followed her instructions. Out of security concerns, we silently and quietly left the forest. Not as a packed group, we never do that. But not far away from each other either. When we reached a clearing, we huddled around her, among the high grass, in the dark, with only the moon to illuminate our scales. No effort was needed to catch her tender olive eyes: they seemed inhabited by a burning fire and could be easily seen by all of us.
Silence.
The only noise we could hear was the light wind slightly stroking the high grass. No scent to disrupt the urine odors أအনnនីնן was about to spread. She was ready to start.
Had we believed her then, millions of lives may have been saved.
⸎ ⸎ ⸎
أအনnនីնן STARTED: ‘I was in the forest at night. About twenty of us were scattered all over, as usual, to forage. I had previously noticed a tree with succulent ants, crispy termites and delicious larvae. They smelled like earth after the rain when earthworms’ excrements’ scents are the strongest. With my forearms and my claws, I was digging into this tree to uncover my tasty meal. I was savouring my favourite insects. I was alone. Quiet. Everything was peaceful. It was like Heaven.
‘Suddenly, the tree opened up. I was dragged back by a powerful force. In no more than a few seconds, I was captured, violently shoved into an inescapable darkness, and thrown somewhere. I just had time to catch sight of a big red machine on wheels. I landed heavily. It hurt me. Immediately, I felt weights on top of me. I assumed these were other brothers and sisters. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t produce any scent. I remember the silence and the strange lack of smell. I felt all of us were terrified, paralyzed, in shock. I started to swing: we were moving.’ Time seemed suspended. The silence surrounding أအনnនីնן became deeper.
Even the wind stopped stroking the high grass.
Our whistle-blower continued: ‘After some time – I can’t say how long, maybe a few minutes, maybe several hours, my senses were totally disoriented – we stopped. A few seconds later, I could smell the scent of punches: that of the fluid we release when we fear. I felt the weight above me was quickly becoming lighter. I didn’t have time to imagine what was going on. It was my turn. Suddenly, I was lifted by a strong force, taken out of the darkness. What I could smell and see horrified me.’
She was shivering. Her scales were making a light noise. These were not the only ones. Several of us were shuddering. I must confess that I was, too. Our tails were softly scratching the grass, which produced a light, continuous sound. It was as if, then, the wind was coming from us. أအনnនីնן’s breath had become deeper, slower.
She paused.
After some long minutes, she said: ‘I saw Hell.’
‘Suddenly, the tree opened up. I was dragged back by a powerful force. In no more than a few seconds, I was captured, violently shoved into an inescapable darkness, and thrown somewhere. I just had time to catch sight of a big red machine on wheels. I landed heavily. It hurt me. Immediately, I felt weights on top of me. I assumed these were other brothers and sisters. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t produce any scent. I remember the silence and the strange lack of smell. I felt all of us were terrified, paralyzed, in shock. I started to swing: we were moving.’ Time seemed suspended. The silence surrounding أအনnនីնן became deeper.
Even the wind stopped stroking the high grass.
Our whistle-blower continued: ‘After some time – I can’t say how long, maybe a few minutes, maybe several hours, my senses were totally disoriented – we stopped. A few seconds later, I could smell the scent of punches: that of the fluid we release when we fear. I felt the weight above me was quickly becoming lighter. I didn’t have time to imagine what was going on. It was my turn. Suddenly, I was lifted by a strong force, taken out of the darkness. What I could smell and see horrified me.’
She was shivering. Her scales were making a light noise. These were not the only ones. Several of us were shuddering. I must confess that I was, too. Our tails were softly scratching the grass, which produced a light, continuous sound. It was as if, then, the wind was coming from us. أအনnនីնן’s breath had become deeper, slower.
She paused.
After some long minutes, she said: ‘I saw Hell.’
⸎ ⸎ ⸎
أအনnនីնן RESUMED: ‘With the speed of light, I was violently bludgeoned in the head with a machete. It lasted for a few fractions of seconds but I could see it. You have to believe me! I pledge I could see it: a colossal cauldron of boiling water above a gigantic red fire. Smoke coming out of it. The bloody bodies of our brothers and sisters on the ground. Some to the left, some to the right. As if they had been selected. Those on the right were thrown into the boiling water by a Human, one after the other, mechanically, like in a death factory. Those on the left simply piled up. Motionless. Dead.’
I was stunned. Breathless. How could such inanimality be possible? I sudden- ly remembered the old លីե פফ্লি ن. Once, on the way back from a nightly hunt in the forest, he told me that he had seen brothers and sisters Pangolins be abducted by Humans. But this had allegedly taken place far away from him, several months before. And his memory was blurred, no less than his sight. And he was very old, close to eighteen. Nobody really paid any more attention to what our senile father shared. How could I have believed that Humans really did that to our brothers and sisters, animals like them? Taking advantage of their vulnerability when they had rolled into a ball, obviously afraid to have been discovered, far away from their cosy chambers in their burrows, seemed too cruel to be true. លីե פফ্লি ن had not insisted. He never shared about it again. He died a few weeks later.
Listening to my sister أအনnនីնן, I realized that I should have believed the unbelievable then.
أအনnនីնן continued: ‘I felt my last moment had come. I thought of my children. I didn’t even have time to urinate. I was thrown in the air. I heavily crashed on the ground.
‘On the left.
‘It took me some moments to realize that I was still alive. I had landed on the dead bodies of sisters and brothers. A few seconds later, another body landed on top of me. Covered in blood. Dead. How come I wasn’t dead? It’s a miracle. I guess my killer thought his machete punches were violent enough to get rid of me, and quickly moved on to the next ones.
‘Why were those on the right thrown into the water while those on the left were abandoned to their lonely deaths? I am not really sure. Lying between bodies, I pretended to be dead and observed the scene: after they took the bodies out of the boiling water, the Humans methodically removed their beautiful scales. I immediately remembered my accident three years ago, when I had inadvertently slipped from a tree trunk and fallen on a sharp stone: it had slightly damaged some of my beloved scales. I noticed that those of us on the left had similar issues. After briefly examining us from close, they might have realized that we were useless for their exploitation.’
أအনnនីնן stopped again. This time, she seemed relieved. Silently, she looked at each of us in the eyes. The sound of the wind generated by our shivering scales and by our tails scraping the high grass had become louder. Only the moon had kept the same since the beginning of our gathering, illuminating our small and packed circle. I was completely terrified. Then, numerous of us were releasing stinky fluids, in a chaotic way. An explosion of messages. Totally cacophonous, incomprehensi- ble. This was the odor of fear.
أအনnនីնן concluded: ‘The Humans coldly finished their disgusting process, poured the boiling water on the grass, took the cauldron with them, and left. They didn’t even bury the bodies. This lack of basic respect saved my life. I waited to be sure they were away for good, then extracted myself from the pile of inanimate bodies. Slowly, I crawled away. I felt my scales weighed tons. I was lost. I was afraid to die at any moment. But I had to warn you. To urge you to act. They want to kill us all! In fact, they are already killing us all. If we don’t act now, we will disappear from the surface of Earth in no time.’
The scents we were all releasing clearly indicated that we all believed her. Fear had become prevalent. Mothers looked at their children with anxiety. Worried females looked at their males in search of reassurance. Males looked in the vague, obviously lost. The sound of our restless scales and tails scratching the high grass had become louder. The clearing itself seemed to be shivering. The moonlight had weakened as if it, too, were afraid and wanted to hide. It was definitely time to act.
What should we do?
I was stunned. Breathless. How could such inanimality be possible? I sudden- ly remembered the old លីե פফ্লি ن. Once, on the way back from a nightly hunt in the forest, he told me that he had seen brothers and sisters Pangolins be abducted by Humans. But this had allegedly taken place far away from him, several months before. And his memory was blurred, no less than his sight. And he was very old, close to eighteen. Nobody really paid any more attention to what our senile father shared. How could I have believed that Humans really did that to our brothers and sisters, animals like them? Taking advantage of their vulnerability when they had rolled into a ball, obviously afraid to have been discovered, far away from their cosy chambers in their burrows, seemed too cruel to be true. លីե פফ্লি ن had not insisted. He never shared about it again. He died a few weeks later.
Listening to my sister أအনnនីնן, I realized that I should have believed the unbelievable then.
أအনnនីնן continued: ‘I felt my last moment had come. I thought of my children. I didn’t even have time to urinate. I was thrown in the air. I heavily crashed on the ground.
‘On the left.
‘It took me some moments to realize that I was still alive. I had landed on the dead bodies of sisters and brothers. A few seconds later, another body landed on top of me. Covered in blood. Dead. How come I wasn’t dead? It’s a miracle. I guess my killer thought his machete punches were violent enough to get rid of me, and quickly moved on to the next ones.
‘Why were those on the right thrown into the water while those on the left were abandoned to their lonely deaths? I am not really sure. Lying between bodies, I pretended to be dead and observed the scene: after they took the bodies out of the boiling water, the Humans methodically removed their beautiful scales. I immediately remembered my accident three years ago, when I had inadvertently slipped from a tree trunk and fallen on a sharp stone: it had slightly damaged some of my beloved scales. I noticed that those of us on the left had similar issues. After briefly examining us from close, they might have realized that we were useless for their exploitation.’
أအনnនីնן stopped again. This time, she seemed relieved. Silently, she looked at each of us in the eyes. The sound of the wind generated by our shivering scales and by our tails scraping the high grass had become louder. Only the moon had kept the same since the beginning of our gathering, illuminating our small and packed circle. I was completely terrified. Then, numerous of us were releasing stinky fluids, in a chaotic way. An explosion of messages. Totally cacophonous, incomprehensi- ble. This was the odor of fear.
أအনnនីնן concluded: ‘The Humans coldly finished their disgusting process, poured the boiling water on the grass, took the cauldron with them, and left. They didn’t even bury the bodies. This lack of basic respect saved my life. I waited to be sure they were away for good, then extracted myself from the pile of inanimate bodies. Slowly, I crawled away. I felt my scales weighed tons. I was lost. I was afraid to die at any moment. But I had to warn you. To urge you to act. They want to kill us all! In fact, they are already killing us all. If we don’t act now, we will disappear from the surface of Earth in no time.’
The scents we were all releasing clearly indicated that we all believed her. Fear had become prevalent. Mothers looked at their children with anxiety. Worried females looked at their males in search of reassurance. Males looked in the vague, obviously lost. The sound of our restless scales and tails scratching the high grass had become louder. The clearing itself seemed to be shivering. The moonlight had weakened as if it, too, were afraid and wanted to hide. It was definitely time to act.
What should we do?
Benjamin Abtan's family are Jews from southern Morocco who had to immigrate because of rising antisemitism. He dedicates his life to advancing social justice. His fiction work explores transgenerational impacts of migration, systems of domination and resistance, with a special attention to underrepresented female voices. Benjamin’s work was published in The Massachusetts Review, Fiction International and the other side of hope literary magazines.
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