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.
