He was a stuffed giraffe with a broken neck and his name was Giraffey. People always talk about the imagination and creativity of children, but, either that’s a complete myth, or my childhood self was lacking in that department. But regardless of the insignificance of the name, the significance of the toy was undeniable. It was my totem, see. My sisters and I were all born in Botswana, and so were given tribal names and totems by the locals. Thus I was christened Tebogo, and bestowed with the giraffe as my totem animal.
I’m not sure when the stuffed animal came into the picture, but it was there from my earliest memories, broken neck and all. And he’s probably still somewhere around my parent’s house, alongside a stuffed elephant and a stuffed hippo. Three siblings, who couldn’t be more different.