Mika and Meero: Djeran Djerup

Mika and Meero: Djeran Djerup by Alton Walley (UWA Publishing), RRP $16.99 Junior Fiction ISBN 2-370002-215343

Reviewed by Susan Hancy

From the moment it arrived in the letterbox, I couldn’t wait to read Mika and Meero: Djeran Djerup. What first attracted me were the action images of the two Nyoongar (First Nation) siblings on the front cover, the multi-coloured pages in various shades of ochre and the large-print text interspersed with fun illustrations and deadpan commentary. As I riffled through the pages, their thickness and texture told me a lot of care had gone into preparing what presents as a high-quality product. It was time to find out if the storyline would also deliver!

It’s Djeran season when the weather turns cool before the rains come and the lowlands flood. That means it’s time for the extended family of Mika and her little brother Meero to move camp to higher ground. Mum and Dad are leading the way towards the Kaarta Moorndah (Perth Hills); they easily remember their way around Boodjar (Country). Meero, on the other hand, can’t even remember what he had for breakfast. Meero is in a grumpy guts mood – he’s tired from climbing the path, and his older cousins are teasing him. Even worse, they throw his precious fish and marron that he’s been carrying in his bag for the last two days over the cliff. So what if his snacks were stinking? He convinces himself that his snack-stealing cousins are jealous of him.

Luckily, they soon reach camp where a hearty feed and good night’s sleep work wonders for Meero’s mood. Ahead lies a day of dancing and celebration, and Meero regards himself as an excellent dancer. If his feet moved any quicker, he’d be lighting the ground on fire. But in his whirlwind of spinning and kicking up sand, he stubs his toe and hurtles through the air. How is he ever going to learn the new dance?

Meanwhile, Mika’s having her own problems. She’s expected to sing a special part to accompany the dances, but everyone is familiar with Nana’s beautiful version. How can she ever compete with that? Nana advises her to head out into the bush with Aunty to see what Boodjar can teach her. But that’s silly. The bush can’t sing. What is she to do?

Told alternately from Meero’s and Mika’s point of view, this story takes you along on their respective journeys combatting their fears of cave monsters, fire ants and fanged birds, learning from the trees, the djerup (birds), the animals and even the cave. Along the way, the readers learn a selection of words from the Nyoongar language weaved into the narrative with context. Overall, the story indeed delivers with playful humour and satisfying resolutions. I’d suggest this book will resonate best with kids around Years 3-4 and is an excellent complement to topics on First Nations culture being taught at school.