Zebra StripesA Tail Of Personal Branding

Written and illustrated by Tim & Ellie Eburne

The oppressive midday sun beat down on the African plain. The dust began to settle, as did the herds of animals that inhabited the vast open grasslands. The middle of each day signalled “siesta” time, for everyone, that is, except Sonny, one of the young lads belonging to the zebra clan. He was not about to give up his ‘discovery time’ to partake in a ‘nap’. That was what old people did ! Besides, he was busy watching the steam rise gently off a freshly laid elephant-pat.

“Who’s got time to nap? Not me!!!”

Around the base of the still fresh pat, Sonny’s keen eye caught a pair of dung beetles carefully rolling the moist sod into little orbs, and, being naturally inquisitive, he stood on their ball, just to see what they’d do. Sonny, like most animals his age, had a short attention span, and he was soon bored with the dung beetles and he skittered off to the nearby water hole, where there was a large variety of animals, leisurely trying to slake their thirst and cool down from a morning under the intense African sun.

“Ha ha!!! What you gonna do?”

From behind the relative safety of an acacia tree, Sonny noticed a few of the other young park residents, obviously embroiled in a fierce argument at the edge of the water hole. His curiosity got the better of him, and being overly nosy, he ambled over to investigate. Careful not to get too close, Sonny got to within ‘listening’ distance of the guys, ready, of course, to sprint back to the security of the herd should any kind of ‘altercation’ break out.

As Sonny stood there watching and listening, he was amazed at the topic of the disagreement, and he shuffled closer to get a front row seat.

Tau, the young lion cub, and the next in line to his father’s throne as ‘King of the park’!, was boasting, “anyone who is not in the Big 5, here in the park, is a loser!” he stated, with a degree of disdain in his voice, “We are the most popular animals in the park and the only real attraction!”

“Tau is quite right,” agreed Spike, the adolescent buffalo, who had a fierce reputation as a bully and a fighter, “them and us!” By the look of his physique, Spike was clearly one to steer clear of.

Some severe haggling ensued, with a seriously miffed bunch of hyenas and baboons, who begged to differ with the young lion and the buffalo. Sonny was clearly taken aback by the disagreement that was taking place and he withdrew quietly, before it degenerated into full-on fisticuffs.

Sonny peers bravely out from well behind the acacia tree.

By the afternoon’s end, the temperature had dropped significantly and the hoards of animals throughout the park were finding their second wind; some more wind than others! ! ! Sonny was still perplexed about the talk at the waterhole. He didn’t see why zebras, come to think of it, impalas, and for that matter, why the graceful gazelle, the comical vervet monkeys, the porcupines and ferrets weren’t also notable species. Why was it just that small selection of animals that were considered the ‘main feature’, some of which Sonny thought were really quite stuck-up, especially that over-opinionated lion clan, they thought they were god’s gift to the park. Phwah!

Armed with a mind crammed with more questions than answers, sonny trotted off to seek out ol’ Zig. Now Zig, short for Ziggy, but christened Zigmond, was considered the sage of the herd; the one to turn to for advice. He was older and more mature and had lived through many adventures and scary encounters, some of which, the older generation were too nervous to even whisper, let alone talk openly about.

“Hmmmmmmm! What is this flavor….it tastes aweful!”

Full of youthful confidence, yet with a degree of respect, Sonny approached ol’ Zig, waiting to be noticed by the guru himself. Zig continued chewing on, well, whatever it was he was chewing on. He could see Sonny out of the corner of his eye, but, as protocol prescribed, kept him waiting. Zig eventually spat out whatever it was he was chewing on and did the one thing he was famous for doing - he burped, a loud and prolonged guttural belch! ! - then slowly turned to face the lad.

“What ?” enquired Zig of his visitor.

“I need to know something, something that’s been bugging me for a while.” Said Sonny.

“And what is that, my young friend?” asked Ziggy.

Sonny chose his words carefully, so as not to appear overly juvenile, “why do some animals in the park say that only elephants, rhinos, leopards, buffalos and those stupid lions, are the most popular in the park?” Sonny blurted out, and added a mocking tone to his voice when he mentioned the word ‘lions’?”

Zig, already wise to the question and to the answer he was about to supply, stretched the suspense out a while longer, then continued, “The animals you are talking about, and as you are aware, are referred to as ‘The BIG 5’!” Ziggy explained, “They already have a reputation in Africa, and as such automatically enjoy the respect of all the animals in our park.”

“But why are they so admired?” asked Sonny, clearly indignant that zebras should be included in that group.

Ziggy dropped his head back to the ground, as if mulling over the answer, and while down there, he found a stick of wild garlic on which to chew; something to prolong the moment, and to compel sonny to be patient.

“Reputation amongst animals in the park is a fascinating topic, Sonny!” maintained Ziggy, then as if to add flavour to his wisdom, he again belched loudly before continuing.

Sonny politely turned toward the fresh air, took a huge lung-full and held his breath whilst Ziggy’s words floated across the space between them. “Everyone has their own opinion as to who is important and who is not!”

Sonny was turning blue in the face but was determined not to breathe the foul air, “The secret is not to spend time arguing who is the ‘Flavour of the Month’ and who is not, but rather, spend one’s time building one’s own reputation, so that you stand out from the crowd and are held in high regard.”

Sucking in more fresh air, Sonny asked, “how do we do that, uncle Zig?”

Zig turned the, whatever it was he had in his mouth, around so that it stuck out, rather like a stubby cigar; a slurpy wad of gob dripping off its end, “that is a good question, Sonny,” Zig looked down at what he’d just spat out, as if drawing wisdom from it, “Well let me see.”

“All the animals on the African plains possess different strengths and qualities that are either striking or they’re not,” continued Ziggy, clearly chuffed to be discussing a topic about which he had much insight.“What’s the difference between a quality and a strength?” enquired sonny, now visibly worried that he’d bitten off more that he could chew and that this might well turn into a full afternoon session.

Ziggy was just about to launch into a lengthy response, when Sonny’s father, Zeb, interrupted the conversation and told sonny to stop bothering Ziggy. Sonny was about to excuse himself, when ol’ Zig belched loudly, fouling up the atmosphere for meters around him.

Without daring to breathe, Sonny simply took off. He didn’t care for the direction, it was distance he was after. Looking back over his shoulder, he shouted, “Thanks, uncle Zig!” and was gone.

Ziggy had that smirk on his face, the one you wear when you know you’ve done something terrible, but have ‘gotton’ away with it, so, sniffing the air, he moved on to finding something new to chew on – the discussion with Sonny had reawakened something in Ziggy, something very important that he would bring up at the next clan meeting.

Sonny was intrigued by his conversation with the old sage. There was definite wisdom in Zig’s answers, but he still wondered what it was that many zebra’s were missing; what was it that he, himself, needed to do to boost his reputation and stand-out from the crowd?”

That very afternoon, under the shade of the Marula tree, the zebra clan’s monthly meeting was scheduled to take place. Under the leadership of the ‘elders,’ any matters of general concern to the community were aired.

Standing at the head-table, the committee comprised of Zeb, Sonny’s father, Moo, the old-timer who voted herself onto all the committees, simply because she felt she was the most important zebra in the clan and had the most to offer (The other committee members were secretly happy to have her up-front because she always said less from the table than from the floor), Larry, Harry and Barry, the notorious zebra brothers, who had a finger in every pie in the park, making them an ideal addition to this motley mix , and, of course, ol’ Zig, whose wisdom brought a sense of balance to this rag-tag group of individuals.

As the meeting got underway, and the seriously unimportant matters were concluded, ol’ Zig re-called everyone to order as he had something rather serious to air and examine. He began by describing an incident he’d recently been a part of, that opened a window on an important matter that concerned the whole clan. He paused, drawing out the suspense and causing everyone to stare at him with bated breath.

He then called Sonny up to the front and explained how, as a result of his inquisitive nature, Sonny had uncovered the fact that some the zebras in the clan, were missing an important element in their make-up, and it was precisely this that Ziggy wanted to tackle as the next item on the agenda.

“Now that all the unimportant stuff is out of the way – let’s get down and boogy, Yeah!”

Sonya, and her little group of girl-friends, were delighted that, at last, they were going to talk about something important, “make-up” she squealed with delight, “Now there’s something I’m an expert on.” she hauled out her mirror from her crocodile skin handbag and began making her way up to the front. . . .

“Not that kind of make-up, Sonya!” exclaimed Ziggy, rolling his eyes.

“Oh darling, your bag is to die for!!”

“Sonny’” he said, with an air of satisfaction, “has uncovered the fact that we as individuals lack something essential to our being; something that other animals in the park may have, that we would do well to pursue, and it is this issue that I want us to examine to see what, if anything, we can do to amplify our standing amongst all the animals in the park.

Moo was disappointed that it wasn’t her who had thought of the issue, because she was thoroughly envious of the admiring looks sonny was presently enjoying. In truth, she was just miffed because attention was, once again, taken away from the table at which she was sitting.

Ziggy asked Sonny to relate his story, so with the self-assurance of youth, Sonny launched into his account of the dispute at the waterhole, and the consequent discussion he’d had with ol’ Zig. He spoke with confidence and a touch of humour and finished with a challenge to the whole community, stating, “We need to know how we can ‘stand out’ in this park, how we can be noticed and remembered.”

There was a stunned silence across the camp. What on earth could it be that was missing? The blond, Doris, immediately counted her legs and checked that her stripes were still in place. Zelda, one of the prissy young zebras, looked across at Doris; shook her head and said to herself, “Boy, this is gonna be a long day!”

Out of the silence came a suggestion. It was Sonny’s mother, proud as punch that her sonny had initiated such an important matter. She suggested, “let’s all go home and come up with ideas of what we think should be done in order to ‘stand-out’ amongst the animals in the park. Then, return tomorrow and share those ideas, perhaps some examples of what we’re thinking!”

It was a solid start and as the meeting broke up, there was already excited chatter around what different zebras were going to do to show how they were going to be different.

Dawn broke the next day with isolated patches of raucous laughter and animated babble as different members of the zebra clan emerged from their shrub, exhibiting what it was they thought would make zebras ‘standout!’

Rainbow had waited for an occasion such as this, and she appeared dressed like her name-sake, a ‘rainbow’. She was the first to prance in front of the committee, donning what she considered would make zebras in the park irresistible.

She looked like a brightly coloured Christmas tree with flashing lights. The entire community erupted into gut-wrenching laughter. Zeb said she’d certainly attract attention, but probably not the kind of attention that was needed. Rainbow, took it on the chin, she knew she’d gone overboard and wasn’t offended in any way. “Anyone for a game of chess?”

When Daisy materialized, everyone had to split up and find their own space to roll with laughter because she looked so ridiculous. She’d put on a buffalo costume, from the backstage cupboard, and attached an old pair of horns to her head before coming out snorting just like an angry buffalo. The hilarious part of the whole event, was the sight of her skinny little legs sticking out the bottom of the bulky outfit.

“Humfph!!!”

Next to appear on stage, dressed like an overweight version of Elvis, was Clint. He waltzed up to the front with his badly out of tune guitar over his shoulder and launched into his rendition of “I’m too sexy for my stripes!” The teeny-boppers went moggy, but the vast majority simply yawned and clapped loudly, over his voice, so that he would get off as quickly as possible.

When the laughter eventually died down, moo appeared in what was a ‘far too short’ skirt, clearly exposing a great deal more of her legs than was necessary.

“Mutton dressed up as lamb!” was the expression that came to Phyllis’s mind.

“I’m too sexy for my stripes!!!”

“A A A A A A HA HA HA HA HA!!”

“Minger!” was another word materializing from the younger quarter of the gathering.

Cyril, out of sight of Moo, had his finger down the back of his throat, to the obvious delight of his ‘side-kicks’, who hung around with him.

No one knew whether they should laugh out loud again or, because it was Moo, respectfully say how wonderful her idea was and say how glamorous she looked. But, as expected, thunderous laughter broke out across the stadium and moo stormed off, muttering how no one else’s ideas came anywhere near hers for looks and originality.

There were a number of other attempts, each one gradually getting more outrageous that the one before. It was clear that the zebras has thoroughly enjoyed the challenge that had been set them; it had been a breath of fresh air, and elixir that the community had needed to break the boredom of that stiflingly hot summer.

When all was said and done, Lenny, the clan’s head of marketing, and one of the most forward-thinking of the zebras, walked up to the table and, well, things became more serious, “there’s more to this than just how we look. We mustn’t try and be who we’re not!”

“Now, where did I put my calculator?”

We’re zebra’s and must be proud of that! We don’t need to become something else, we have many redeeming qualities just as we are.”

He continued, “What’s required, is for each one of us to examine ourselves and establish what our strengths are; what is it that we do that no one else can do as well as us?”

There were frowns appearing on many faces after this last comment, “Watcha mean, Lenny, what kinda things?” enquired Frank, a particularly spotty teenager who was dead keen to get involved in anything that would make him look more interesting.

“Let’s put it this way,” Lenny said, “the lion has the status as “King of the Jungle” because of his strength and ferocity. The elephants have their enormous size on their side, plus they are reputed to have immense powers of memory. Rhino’s, well they just look like something out of Jurassic park; they have a fearsome appearance and a short fuse to amplify those feral looks.”

Zig, retaking the lead back from Lenny, shuffled up next to the front and stated, “as a species, we zebras have a singular appearance and a time-honoured place in the order of things, so, as a group, we’re set; we already have a strong foundation on which to build.”

“What we need to establish and develop next,” said Lenny, clearly excited and jumping about to emphasise the point, “is a strong personal platform; we do that by recognising the special personal characteristics we already posses, that are exclusive to us and then we make every effort to emphasize or accentuate them ?”

“No one’s going to build a platform out of me!” stated Doris, clearly misinterpreting the “platform” point.Ignoring Doris completely, one of the young zebras, who was quite visibly excited by this turn of events, asked “How do we do that, Uncle Ziggy?”

“Perhaps what we need to do is to get a ‘view from the outside’; Someone else’s perspective of us. ask someone, who is close to you, what it is they like about you; what do they think it is that you’re good at, ask them to come up with 3 words that they think portray you as an individual?” explained Lenny.

“Equipped with that information, everyone can then better appreciate how they are seen by others. If you like what you hear, you’ve got a strong foundation on which to build your reputation – if you don’t like what you hear about yourself, then you know that you’ve got some work to do!” said Ziggy.

Sonya’s eyes fluttered and she said, “I’d like people to think that I’m the most stunning zebra in the park!”“You’ve got a long way to go on that one, Sonya.” sniggered Frank, “don’t hold your breath waiting for compliments.”

Sonya’s eyes bored right through Frank, melting the smile right off his face. If looks could kill, Frank would be 6ft under.

Sonny found this all rather intriguing, especially as he was now at the dawn of adulthood and knew he needed to establish a strong reputation for himself ‘out there’ in the wider world. If he was to, not only survive, but prosper, he knew that it was necessary to build a powerful name; one that would open doors in his future, give him standing, and enhance his credibility as a zebra.

Then and there, Sonny embarked on a personal journey; a journey of discovery and growth; one that would result in his succeeding in all that he did.

Just before the meeting broke up and all went their separate ways, Ziggy had one final thing to say, “We’ll meet back here soon,” said Ziggy, “to see what it is that we’ve all discovered that makes each of us unique.”

Larry, Harry and Barry were immediately seen heading for the pub at the back of the Marula tree, they already knew what it was that made them different, “Slick !” they agreed, “We’re so smooth !”

Sonny knew that he was very confident in his own abilities; secure and happy with who he was as a Zebra. He did, however, spend the next few days collecting information and opinions from a whole host of other people who had had prominent input into his life.

“How can we score some bucks outta this one guys?”

His old teachers told him how tenacious he was when putting his mind to a task. His friends told him how reliable he was. The Park’s Minister told him he remembered how, when sonny was a bit younger, he never gave up when he found something to be really difficult, and Sonny’s mom informed him that he was always the leader and very decisive when his group of friends were in a predicament.

So, equipped with this new and exciting information, plus what he knew to be true about himself, Sonny set about building a personal picture of how he would like to be seen. Sonny hadn’t realised that others thought of him in any particular way. The first thing he did was to make a list of the common things that people said about him, then, out of this, write down a short account of exactly ‘who’ he was – as seen, both by himself, personally, and through the eyes of others.

Finally, he set about compiling a statement or slogan; a sort of ‘bumper sticker’ summarizing who he was, and also, how he wanted people to see him. He battled to get the wording right on his sticker, but after a number of attempts, he came up with a statement that defined him adequately.

His statement said, ”I AM WHAT I AM ! ! !”

Over the next few months, sonny lived up to his statement, and the animals in the park started to notice a new-found confidence and respect for him grew incredibly; He “stuck out” as someone who knew what he was about, someone who was secure enough to tackle life head-on, and someone who didn’t allow others to stand in his way. He had created his own ‘message’ and lived by it – he “walked his talk!”

At the follow-up meeting, Lenny praised the zebra clan for its success in building its reputation in the community; special mention was made of Sonny’s contribution and how he had initiated the change and been a big part in the now, strong status, that the zebra’s were enjoying in the park.

For his part and to tremendous applause, Sonny confidently strode up front and turned the spotlight back onto ol’ Zig.

“Uncle Ziggy,” he said, with a twinkle in his eye, “we all want to offer our heartfelt thanks to you for inspiring us and giving us the motivation to better ourselves, and we have bought you something which we know will be of immense benefit to you and those who are close to you.” And With that, sonny pulled out and presented Ziggy with a family-sized bottle of breath mints. the entire clan simply cracked up.

“I can see,” responded Ziggy, not wanting to be outdone, “that I’m going to have to come up with new and clever ways to get away from you lot, and ensure my peace and quiet!” and with that, a sheepish smirk crept across his face; getting ever wider as the seconds ticked by. Out of the silence, there was an eruption of movement; those closest to Ziggy, bolted; the urgency to get away spreading quickly through the crowd, until, finally, he found himself quite alone, amid the swirling dust, with his bottle of mints in his hand and that silly grin spread across his face.

“I’m outta here!!!”

The story ends here but not the book . . . . . .