It was a humid afternoon in the heart of the jungle, the kind of day when the trees whispered ancient secrets to the wind and the sun filtered through the canopy like golden threads. Among the rustling leaves and tangled vines, a small group of monkeys leapt playfully between branches, screeching and laughing with youthful joy.
Baby, the youngest of the troop, was a curious little monkey with soft brown fur and eyes wide like dewdrops. Everything fascinated her — fluttering butterflies, squirming beetles, and the way sunlight danced on the river’s surface. But Baby’s curiosity often led her too close to danger.
Her mother, Sika, watched her from a distance. With a strong yet weary gaze, Sika tracked every movement her daughter made. The jungle was beautiful, yes — but it was not kind. There were snakes that slithered silently through the grass, and leopards that moved like shadows. And deeper still, there were places even adult monkeys feared to go.
That’s where Baby was headed.
“Baby! Stop!” Sika’s voice cracked like a whip through the jungle air. She lunged forward and grabbed Baby by the tail, yanking her back roughly. The little monkey squealed in shock and pain, tears springing to her eyes.
“Mama, why?” she cried. “I just wanted to see the shiny rock by the big tree!”
“That’s not a rock,” Sika snapped, panting. “That’s a trap.”
“A trap?” Baby blinked.
Sika’s voice turned low, almost a growl. “Yes. A human trap. Bait for little ones like you.”
Just then, the air was pierced by a distant clank. A heavy, metallic sound that echoed through the jungle. A few birds took flight. Silence followed.
Sika held her daughter close and spoke in a tone so cold, it sent a shiver down Baby’s spine. “You want to know what happens to monkeys that don’t listen? You want to know what they do to babies?”
“Mama…”
“They take them. In cages. They rip them from their mothers. They tie ropes around their necks and force them to do tricks. No trees, no sun, no family. Just concrete, whips, and laughter that hurts.”
Baby trembled. “That’s… that’s not real.”
“I wish it wasn’t,” Sika said softly, her voice breaking. “I saw it happen once. My sister. Her baby. Gone in one breath.”
The older monkeys gathered silently around them. They knew. They’d all lost someone. This was not just Sika’s warning — it was the jungle’s truth.
And now, the story took a turn none of them expected.
From the bushes, a cry — faint, but unmistakable.
Eee! Eee! It was a baby monkey, younger than Baby.
The troop went still. Sika moved first, parting the leaves.
There, tangled in a cruel wire trap, was a tiny monkey. Its leg was caught, bleeding. Its eyes wide with terror.
“Help Baby!” cried Baby, pointing. “Help her!”
With careful hands and knowing eyes, the monkeys worked quickly. They chewed the wire, loosened the trap, calmed the baby. The mother, somewhere nearby, shrieked in heartbreak until reunited.
As they carried the injured baby back to safety, Sika looked at her daughter.
“Now do you understand?” she whispered.
Baby nodded, tears shining. “I’ll never go near the shiny rocks again.”
From that day on, Baby kept close. The jungle was still beautiful. But now, she saw its shadows too.
The troop moved on, deeper into the trees — a little wiser, a little sadder, and a little stronger.
