Running from the park, Mohammed's first instinct was to cash-in on the pangolin. He rushed to the local marketplace making himself fully noticable by shouting: “Look here! Look here!”. He held the pangolin above his head shouting, “This lovely creature is selling to the highest bidder”.

Mohammed Sagar was surprised to see a crowd hastily gather and pull money out from the pockets and purses. The bidding war erupted and soon it was difficult to keep hold of the pangolin which was squirming with discomfort while the crowd jostled and shoved for position.

The commotion raised, Mohammed Sagar saw more people rushing to see the show. The pangolin must have seen the newcomers as it started to make strange noses and squirm harder.

Simultaneoulsy, two thoughts struck Mohammed. Firstly, he considered the situation so difficult that he was in danger of losing the pangolin. Secondly, he realised that he had misunderstood the value of the pangolin and that he was probably in the wrong market place. An image flashed through his mind. He was in the Lobby of the Oberoi Hotel, sipping an expensive drink from a funny shaped glass, negotiating with Americans in suits, the pangolin in a sack at his feet.

“What do you intend to do with it?”, he asked one woman who was offering cash.

“I want to donate it to a charitable foundation”, she yelled.

“I will have it mounted for an ornament”, shouted another waving a fist full of taka in the air.

“It will be a soul mate for my sick Auntie”, shouted a third person, barging their way to the front of the crowd and threatening Mohammed with cash.

“I will make an aphrodisiac from it's scales”, shouted another voice, at which the crowd burst into laughter.

Mohammed was surprised. No one said that they wanted to eat it. This reaffirmed to him that the food market was an inappropriate venue for the sale of the pangolin.

Someone shouted a joke to compliment the reference to aphrodisiacs and the jostling of the crowd grew stronger as the commerce turned to entertainment. Mohammed Sagar started to panic about losing contol of the situation. Just then the pangolin let go a stream of hot urine. The pangolin piss coursed along Mohammed's raised arm, flooded down his side and saturated his shirt.

Enough was enough. He thrust the pangolin back in the sack. Ducking and weaving he pushed through the crowd and escaped. He ran as fast as he could for as long as he could and came to rest in a doorway down an alley, panting.

“A soul mate for a sick Auntie and a donation to a charitable foundation - two offers from a vegetable market”, he thought as he caught his breath.

This pangolin was clearly destined for bigger things that a cooking pot. He would not sell the pangolin for taka, he resolved, he would sell it for dollar. He made a mental map of the route to the Oberoi hotel.

The foyer of the Oberoi hotel was more opulent than any place Mohammed Sagar had ever been. As he stood there under the bright lights looking at the immaculate people moving to and fro through the automatic glass doors, he felt a rush of expectation. This was his big chance.

A bellboy wearing a distinctive uniform, with tassels, a peak hat and white gloves approached Mohammed Sagar and asked what he wanted. Mohammed felt privileged to have some attention so soon.

“I need to see an American”, said Mohammed, directly, “I am here for commercial purposes”.

“What do you have in the sack?”.

“It's a… actually, I don't know what it is called”, said Mohammed. He opened the sack for the bellboy to look inside. To Mohammed's surprise, the bell boy leapt back with a shriek of terror.

“It is a rat!”, shouted the bellboy as he scampered back to his companions.

“It's not a rat”, stated Mohammed.

But before Mohammed could further his argument, the chief bellboy stormed over and smacked him around the head and shouted, “Get away from here you filthy rat vendor or I shall call the police”.

“Enough, enough”, stammered Mohammed, gripping his sack and moving away.

He stood on the periphery of the light from the Oberoi hotel and stared inside. He could see Americans in there. It was clear that he needed to be inside that glittering building but would never get in there dressed in rags with a sack. He would need to look like the people in there. Clean and smartly dressed, his hair perfectly shaped. Then he could drink and do business with the Americans. He watch a woman step out of a long black car. She had a minute pet dog on a red leash that was no higher then the pointy heels on her shoes.

As he walked away from the Oberoi hotel he felt dejected. The gulf between opportunity and reality was widening. He though back to the food market. One person there had offered 10,000 taka – more than a month's wage for a recycler. Imagine that, though Mohammed. If a woman in the food market wearing sandals had offered 10,000 taka, imagine how much an American woman in high heels would pay. He imagined the woman walking into the Oberoi hotel with the pangolin on a red leash.

That though spurred him on. He would get his money after all. But he needed cash now – so that he could dress accordingly.

Then a though struck him. He could rent the pangolin. Or lease it. Make money from it without selling it. His mind was whirring and he started to run back to the market place. He could lease it to fancy women as a pet. He could take it to schools for educational purposes. He could show it at galleries. He could rent it out at parties for aphrodisiac purposes!

By the time he had reached the food market he had a hundred opportunities in his mind. Unsure which one would work, he let his instincts drive his action.

He entered the food market with the pangolin held high above his head. “It's back”, he shouted. Unlike the last time, when he was swamped, Mohammed had a plan. He managed the crowd as it gathered.

“What does it do?” asked a man.

“It has a multitude of uses” said Mohammed, “It can be used as a pet or as a companion or even as an aphrodisiac”.

“I wouldn't want to sleep with it” shouted some one and the crowd burst into laughter again.

This was the danger sign for Mohammed. “They are often used as pets by rich Americans”, he stated firmly.

“Yeah, but what is it” asked an incredulous youth.

“It is an Oberoi rat”, said Mohammed quickly, “and it is available for rental”.

“It's not a rat it is a pangolin”, said a voice from the crowd.

“Yes, it is an Oberoi pangolin”, said Mohammed.

“What does it eat”, asked another voice.

“It eats rice”, said Mohammed.

“It is an ant eater, it eats ants”, corrected the same voice from the crowd.

“It eats ants with rice”, said Mohammed.

“Wow, can I touch it”, asked a woman.

“It will cost you 5 taka”, said Mohammed.

The woman immediately offered him the money. With the pangolin tucked under one arm, Mohammed took her money and shoved it into his trouser pocket.

The woman stroked the pangolin's head and cooed at it. Everyone watched enviously.

After a minute had passed, Mohammed pulled the pangolin out of reach of the woman.“That's enough, who's next to touch the Oberoi Pangolin?”, he shouted.

The next person stepped into line and Mohammed took his money. Mohammed was enthralled. He was making money at last.

Now that commerce was under way there was order and a line formed leading to the pangolin. The Oberoi Pangolin Show, as the event came to be known, continued for hours, long into the evening.

At the end, a woman stood in the front of the queue but she had no money in her hand. It was Mohammed's wife.

“I have found you at last”, she said. “You should come home now, your dinner is ready… and ooohhhh, what is that you stink of?”

At the entrance to the Oberoi hotel, Mohammed stood with his wife and a shiny sports bag in which the pangolin quietly squirmed. While Mohammed was concentrating at looking appropriate and steeling himself for the entrance to the hotel lobby, his wife was interested in comparing the fashionable clothes that she wore with those of the other women. Authoritatively, Mohammed walked through the sliding glass doors with his wife and his pangolin.

He took a seat at a coffee table and waved fro a servant to bring a menu of drinks.

“I am looking for a purchaser of exotic animals”, he whispered to the servant when he returned with a tray holding two expensive drinks in exotic shaped glasses. Mohammed left a tip of 5 taka on the tray and winked.

His wife smiled a huge smile, hugely proud of how smart her husband looked. She had immensely enjoyed the hair dressing and clothes shopping trip, not a common occurrence for a recycler's wife.

Mohammed and his wife sipped their unusual drinks and observed the waiter returning.

“There is an American here and he speaks Bangla”, he said. “There, look, talking on the phone. I heard him say he was looking for a wild animal”.

This was too good to be true. Mohammed pluck up the courage to approach the man as he moved out of the phone booth.

“You are looking for wild animals?” asked Mohammed bravely.

“Moriss Dendy from the IUCN, who are you?”.

IUCN, thought Mohammed, must be a boutique store or something similar.

“My name is Mohammed Sagar. You speak very good Bangla. I apologise but I overheard you speaking about animals and I wish to show you something you may find very interesting”, said Mohammed.

Mohammed led Moriss Dendy to his table and opened the bag.

“Oh, heavens, who would have thought?” exclaimed Moriss Dendy. “It's a pangolin, yes, a Manis pentadactyla, in fact. Funny to see one in the Lobby bar of the Oberoi hotel in Dakha, but there we are”.

“It is worth a lot of money”, stated Mohammed firmly.

“Yes, it certainly is”, said Morris Dendy. “This is actually worth fifty thousand dollars”.

Fifty thousand dollars. Mohammed Saga was stunned. That was a whole life's wages for a recycler.

He looked at his wife. His face had gone white.

“Fifty thousand dollar fine, that is. Its endangered you know. Critically endangered, in fact”, said Moriss Dendy. “Wouldn't want to be caught with that thing. You did the right thing brining it to me. How did you know I was the Director General of the International Union for the Conservation of Nature, South Asia branch?”

Mohammed was dumbstruck and unable to answer.

“This must be the one that escaped from the Tarrana Ecological Reserve a few days ago.” He turned and called for one of his companions. A Bangladeshi woman walked toward them.

"This is Carola, she manages the reserve."

Morris Dendy handed the sports bag to Carrola who squeaked with excitement at seeing her pangolin returned.

“It looks malnourished, “ she said. "I should get to the vet as soon as possible."

Morris waved her away and she exited the lobby of the Oberoi Hotel with the sports bag under her arm.

Mohammed was dumbfounded and could not think fast enough. Instead he sat there, eyes bolted open and his mouth agape.

“And as for you, said Moriss Dendy to Mohammed Sagar, reaching into his pocket.

He handed Mohammed an envelope and stood.

“I had better get to the Reserve”, he said ”bit of a incident this missing pangolin, Geneva is going crazy. Thank you. You have done a good thing”.

When Morris Dendy had departed, Mohammed nervously opened the envelope. Inside were two pieces of card. Mohammed and his wife studied it until they concluded.

“Two free passes to the Tarrana Ecological Reserve”, said Mohammed's wife.

Mohammed was dumbfounded. He did not know whether to laugh or cry. Instead he waved over the waiter and ordered another round of drinks.

Once he was sipping on his exotic drink he become more animated.

“I have it”, he blurted,“we could sell the tickets.”

“Maybe we could lease them to an American”, said his wife.