I AM HIP-HOP BOOK CORNER | “BEING DIFFERENT DOES NOT MAKE YOU INCOMPLETE” BEN CAJEE OPENS UP ABOUT IDENTITY, LONELINESS AND HOPE IN PANDA BADGER

There are some children’s books that enter­tain, some that edu­cate, and a rare few that quietly heal parts of people people did not real­ise still needed healing.

Ben Cajee’s The Panda-Badger belongs firmly in that final category.

On the sur­face, the book fol­lows Pablo, a gentle char­ac­ter nav­ig­at­ing life between two dif­fer­ent com­munit­ies. Part panda and part badger, he exists in a space where neither side fully under­stands him. The pan­das believe he is too much like a badger, while the badgers see him as too much like a panda. What begins as a whim­sic­al story about anim­als slowly unfolds into some­thing far more emo­tion­ally layered: a med­it­a­tion on iden­tity, belong­ing, loneli­ness and self-acceptance.

Speak­ing with I Am Hip Hop, Cajee reflec­ted on how the story first came to him and why cre­at­ing a char­ac­ter caught between worlds felt so important.

“There’s this little guy,” he says warmly. “And he lives in a world of pan­das and badgers, and they’re very dis­tinct and dif­fer­ent. The pan­das think he’s too much like a badger, and the badgers think he’s too much like a panda. Both sides think, ‘Well, you’ve got the best of both. What’s your prob­lem?’ But he really struggles because he doesn’t feel like he belongs anywhere.”

That emo­tion­al con­flict sits at the centre of the book. Pablo is not rejec­ted out­right, but he is nev­er fully embraced either. It is a subtle but power­ful dis­tinc­tion, and one many read­ers will instantly recognise.

What makes The Panda-Badger par­tic­u­larly refresh­ing is that it does not just tell chil­dren it is okay to be dif­fer­ent. It explores the com­plex­ity of car­ry­ing mul­tiple iden­tit­ies at once and the emo­tion­al weight that can come with it. Pablo is nev­er asked to choose one side of him­self over anoth­er. Instead, the story slowly guides him towards under­stand­ing that every part of who he is deserves space.

Cajee explains that Pablo’s jour­ney is not simply about accept­ance from oth­ers, but about find­ing con­fid­ence with­in himself.

“It’s a bit fake it till you make it at first,” he admits. “But under­neath that, he’s really lonely. There are moments in the book where he feels very lost. He has to dig super deep for his own sense of iden­tity and confidence.”

That emo­tion­al hon­esty is part of what makes the book stand apart from more tra­di­tion­al children’s storytelling. While many stor­ies for young­er audi­ences focus heav­ily on happy end­ings and sim­pli­fied emo­tions, Panda Badger allows space for uncer­tainty, sad­ness and vulnerability.

For Cajee, that real­ism comes partly from his own exper­i­ences work­ing in children’s tele­vi­sion for over a decade.

“People some­times think children’s TV is just hap­pi­ness all the time,” he says. “But no one’s that happy con­stantly. Everyone’s got stuff going on. Some days you’re tired, stressed or car­ry­ing some­thing heavy, but you still have to show up and perform.”

He laughs while describ­ing the sur­real nature of film­ing children’s tele­vi­sion, wheth­er dress­ing up in cos­tumes or enter­tain­ing audi­ences while deal­ing with per­son­al pres­sures behind the scenes, but under­neath the humour is a ser­i­ous point about emo­tion­al sup­pres­sion and resilience.

“There’s no hid­ing place some­times,” he explains. “You still have to make every­one smile. That’s a skill, but those emo­tions have to go somewhere.”

Rather than shield­ing chil­dren entirely from dif­fi­cult emo­tions, Cajee believes stor­ies can help young read­ers under­stand what they are feeling.

“Life is not always a breeze,” he says. “I didn’t want to sug­ar­coat everything and pre­tend life is per­fect all the time. Most people at some point struggle with iden­tity or feel­ing lonely or feel­ing like they don’t fit somewhere.”

That ground­ing in emo­tion­al real­ity is exactly what gives The Panda-Badger its power. It trusts chil­dren enough to engage with hon­est emo­tions while also offer­ing reas­sur­ance that those feel­ings are survivable.

The book’s emo­tion­al depth is also strengthened through the pres­ence of a mys­ter­i­ous golden creature that appears through­out Pablo’s jour­ney. Eth­er­e­al and sym­bol­ic, the creature acts almost like a spir­itu­al guide, though Cajee inten­tion­ally leaves its mean­ing open to interpretation.

“It could be your faith, your soul, spir­itu­al­ity, nature, someone you’ve lost,” he explains. “I wanted people to take their own mean­ing from it.”

That ambi­gu­ity becomes one of the story’s greatest strengths. For some read­ers, the golden creature may rep­res­ent faith. For oth­ers, intu­ition, hope, ancest­ors or simply the feel­ing that some­thing lar­ger than ourselves exists in dif­fi­cult moments.

Cajee says he wanted the creature to feel almost myth­ic­al with­in Pablo’s world, some­thing known about but nev­er fully understood.

“There are myths about it in the book,” he says. “Pablo keeps ques­tion­ing wheth­er it’s real or wheth­er he ima­gined it. I think people exper­i­ence things dif­fer­ently. Some people believe in signs. Oth­ers think things are coin­cid­ence. That’s personal.”

The open­ness of that inter­pret­a­tion allows the book to con­nect with read­ers from many dif­fer­ent back­grounds and exper­i­ences without ever becom­ing prescriptive.

Music also plays a sur­pris­ingly import­ant role in the story, even­tu­ally becom­ing one of the forces that helps unite Pablo’s divided com­munit­ies. For Cajee, music sym­bol­ises one of the purest forms of human connection.

“I really love music,” he says. “It’s uni­ver­sal. People can be in com­pletely dif­fer­ent parts of the world and still feel con­nec­ted through the same song, even if they don’t speak the same language.”

Reflect­ing on his own rela­tion­ship with music, Cajee speaks pas­sion­ately about the emo­tion­al memor­ies songs can hold and how music evolves along­side people’s lives.

“You can listen to the same song at dif­fer­ent points in your life and hear some­thing com­pletely dif­fer­ent in it,” he says. “Once you’ve exper­i­enced love or grief or loss or hap­pi­ness, songs hit differently.”

That same idea runs quietly through The Panda-Badger. Exper­i­ences shape under­stand­ing. Emo­tions deep­en per­spect­ive. Con­nec­tion often comes from recog­nising pieces of ourselves in others.

At a time where con­ver­sa­tions around iden­tity can often become divis­ive or politi­cised, The Panda-Badger feels remark­ably com­pas­sion­ate. It does not try to force simple answers onto com­plic­ated feel­ings. Instead, it gently reminds read­ers that there is strength in com­plex­ity, beauty in dif­fer­ence and power in empathy.

Most import­antly, it offers some­thing many adults are still search­ing for them­selves: per­mis­sion to exist fully as who they are.

For chil­dren grow­ing up feel­ing caught between cul­tures, iden­tit­ies, com­munit­ies or expect­a­tions, that mes­sage could prove invaluable.

And per­haps that is what makes The Panda-Badger res­on­ate far bey­ond its pages. Beneath the whim­sic­al storytelling and charm­ing world-build­ing is a deeply human remind­er that being dif­fer­ent does not make you incomplete.

Some­times, it is exactly what makes you whole.

The-Panda Badger by Ben Cajee is out May 7th (Puffin UK)

Pur­chase your copy HERE

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Salina Zaher

Salina is a mul­ti­cul­tur­al presenter focus­ing on stor­ies shaped by iden­tity, cul­ture, and lived experience.

About Salina Zaher

Salina is a multicultural presenter focusing on stories shaped by identity, culture, and lived experience.