This was written by my daughter when she was 13 years old.
Busy Doing Nothing.
“Look at this rubbish”, Dad snorts, squinting at the TV screen. “Save the whales indeed. Why bother? What did they ever give us?”
I have to admit that he
has a point. Whales don’t generally feature in my rather mundane
lifestyle. Excluding times like now, when my family sits around the television,
pouring scorn on the puppy-dog eyed, endangered whales. Judging by the amount
of whale calves they show on TV, the whales seem to be managing perfectly well
without the aid of our hard earned cash.
The
animals sat in a circle, a general feeling of gloom hovering over the small
group. The eagle stood up and initiated the meeting.
It’s Saturday, about eight weeks after the
frantic panic about the whale population. I’m lounging on the sofa, more focused on the animal programme being shown
on TV than my maths homework sat in front of me. Mum’s too engrossed in her ironing to care about either. The stylish but
somewhat cheesy female presenter is informing the world about the extinction of
whales. I care about this about as much as I care about a sheet of equations.
Don’t get me wrong: I’m not a totally heartless teenager, but I fail to see what all the fuss
is about. It’s a giant fish, for crying out loud. Hardly the
end of the world.
The
animals listened intently to the eagle. Their fate was to be decided. One
species on earth had to sacrifice themselves to raise
the humans’ awareness of their future danger. Looking solemn, the eagle made his
announcement. “The whales”, he said.
The world is
in a bit of a fluster because of the extinction of the whales. Some people
claim that the world will be a better place, others say that humankind has to
sort itself out to prevent this from happening again. Then there are people
like me, who don’t give a hoot. Most people I speak
to seem to fall into the third category. Ecologists in India are getting a bit
worried about the sudden decline in the tiger population. I feel the same about
this situation as I do about the whales.
The animals gathered again. The eagle addressed the small meeting. “Our plan has not yet succeeded. The
humans are still ignorant. Tigers, you must sacrifice yourselves. Perhaps the
humans will notice and take action”. The few tigers left in the world
nobly agreed to the eagle‘s plan.
The whale
thing is old news now. Again, I’m half
watching an animal programme, only it’s my geography homework I’m ignoring this time. Almost overnight, the tigers
have become extinct. Religious people are panicking, claiming that God is
killing off all the living things on the planet as a punishment for our sins. I’d say that the whale meat and tiger
skin industries had more to do with it.
The eagle was preparing for another meeting, feeling like a murderer.
Things were getting desperate now. He had led two magnificent species of
animals to their deaths, but the humans just didn’t care. When would they notice what
grave danger they were in? If all the animals died, the humans would follow.
Could they realise this before it was too late? How much longer would this
slaughtering have to go on for? So many questions, but with so few answers.
When the animals arrived a short time later, the eagle tried to be
positive and motivational, putting on a brave face for their sake. “I do not see why we should be
helping the humans anyway”, the panda called. “They do nothing for us”. There were a few murmurs of
agreement, then an expectant silence. After a moment of hesitation, the eagle
puffed out his chest importantly and replied: “The answer, my friend, is simple. We
are going to show the humans that by harming us, they place their future in
jeopardy. They are more endangered than us! If they realise this, then they
will stop harming us to preserve their future.” The eagle sat back, looking at the
realisation on the animals’ faces with satisfaction. As a team, they could surely win this battle.
It’s Friday night, and my family and I
are nervously watching TV. Things are getting out of hand. Five more species of
animal have become extinct in the last four months. The pandas, the
chimpanzees, the giant otters, the Brazilian three-toed sloths and the Indian
elephants, all extinct. Dad keeps trying to lighten the atmosphere with his
corny jokes about endangered animals, but I can’t pretend that I’m not a bit freaked out. It’s big news, but no action is taking place yet. I drag
myself away from my rather glum thoughts and focus on the television. The news
headline flashes across the screen: “Could this be the beginning of the end?” A scornful chuckle escapes from my
lips, in spite of myself. Even mum looks to be struggling to keep a straight
face. Purr-lease! The people in the news business are really exaggerating the
matter. Just because a few animals have snuffed it, why would that mean that
the human race follows?
My 15 year old
brother, Jake, shoots me a look that could slice bread. He’s really into all this animal
conservation nonsense, and appears to be the only person in the family who
finds it even remotely interesting. I prepare myself for one of his famous, “the human race depends on the
animals and at this rate we will all die ” speeches, but he just buries himself back in his
book. Maybe I’ve finally trained him to understand
that WE JUST DON’T CARE.
“They just don’t care!” the eagle burst out passionately,
at the start of another meeting. “They are aware of it, yes, but not
one single person is taking action.”
The jaguar looked thoughtful. “Surely then, if the humans haven’t yet taken action, they must not
realise the danger they are in.” All the
animals turned to stare at him. Satisfied with the attention he was receiving,
the jaguar continued. “If they did, then they would start
to help us to preserve their future. Perhaps, and I know it is a risk, we
should sacrifice a species that the human race can hardly live without”. A crowd of bees buzzed from the
corner of the room. “The humans depend on us. Without us, there is no pollination. Without
pollination, there are no plants. Without plants, there will be no food for the
humans. We will sacrifice ourselves”.
Who would have possibly thought that
such a small animal becoming extinct could cause more disruption than six
larger species combined? The bees have become extinct. There was a panic about
the rapid decline in the bee population, then the next thing we knew, they had
gone. Just like that. It was too sudden for anyone to do anything about the
bees, so scientists are trying desperately to create “artificial pollination”. As far as I can make out, it isn’t working so far. I’m almost starting to understand what
Jake means about how much we rely on the animals. He is very smug about this,
but I’m too worried to be cross with him.
If the artificial pollination doesn’t work, there won’t be any plants.
I’m sitting on my bed, staring out of
the window, feeling depressed. I remember, from my work on food chains in
primary school, that everything starts with plants. So, that means that without plants… “… everything dies”, I whisper to myself. I flop back
against my pillow. It’s way too much
to take in. Because of a few measly insects dying out, this could be end of the
world as we know it.
The eagle didn’t know whether to be satisfied or worried about the results. It was
definitely dawning on the humans that they depended on animals, there was no
doubt about that. But would the extinction of bees lead to the extinction of
the humans? Instead of preventing the death of humankind, had he caused it?
Sighing loudly the eagle tried to look on the bright side. At least, for now,
the sacrificing could stop.
We are already
starting to see the effects of the extinction of bees. There is less and less
food in the shops, and America is on the news almost every day as the hardest
hit country. We all know that soon, there will be no food left. That’s the worst thing. Just waiting, but
knowing what’s going to happen.
It’s not just the food that is limited
either. Plant-based medicines have been affected, cotton clothing is in short
supply too.
This really
could be the beginning of the end.
The eagle skimmed the long grass, searching for food. It was scarce
nowadays. The herbivores were suffering and dying due to the lack of plants,
which meant that their predators had no food either. It was a very vicious
circle, very vicious indeed. He flew back to his nest, mission unsuccessful.
Briefly, he considered calling another meeting, but what use would it be? He
couldn’t pretend anymore. He couldn’t put a brave face on anymore. They
would all soon meet their end, and it was his fault.
It’s August now. Five years and four
months since the bees became extinct. Five years and four months since the
beginning of the end. Now, we are heading towards the end of the end. The
artificial pollination was a total failure, and the food has almost run out. People
are getting mugged and robbed around here, and it’s the same all around the world. Wars have broken out
over food, and the population is rapidly plummeting. There’s no school, and less and less
people are going to work.
Jake was
murdered three weeks ago, while he was searching for food. I wish, with all my
heart, that we had listened to him all those years ago. If we had cared just a
little bit more about the animals, and their environment we could have stopped
this. I could be happy, waiting to go back to university. Jake could still be
here.
I’m crying now, just thinking about
how different this could have been. I don’t want to die at nineteen. I don’t want to think, at every meal, that
this could be my last. I want to go back, to rewind five years, when everything
was good and happy.
Looking back
now, to when the extinctions first started, it’s as if the animals were trying to warn us. While we
were busy doing nothing, they were trying to show us that, by endangering them,
we endangered ourselves.
If only we had
listened to them.
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