Baobab trees in Madagascar

Pegman this week takes us to the remote and magical island of Madagascar.


“Gaeton, son, you’re thirteen, old enough to hunt in the forest”


You must catch a live animal to sell. Lemurs are best, I know men who will pay for them. We need money.”

“Will you come Papa ?”

“No, my health is not good.”


It’s daybreak, I push through the dark leaves of the forest. I find a quiet clearing, sit on a fallen tree to eat my breakfast. Opposite me the leaves swish, I see a striped, graceful body, a face with round black eyes looking at me.

The animal dances into the clearing, puts out a long furry arm and takes the  papaya out of my hand. We look at each other, chewing our food. He is a long thin monkey, eyes looking into my soul.

Then he is gone.

I return to my village, one step lighter from our meeting, the other heavy with the anger that will come.