The Lion and the Clever Monkey

In the vast golden savanna, where the sun blazed like a fiery jewel and the winds carried whispers of ancient tales, there lived a lion named Simba the Proud. His mane was thick and golden, his roar shook the earth, and his strength was unmatched. The animals of the grasslands bowed before him, offering gifts of meat and fruit to appease his endless hunger. Simba ruled with claws and teeth, believing that fear was the only language worth speaking.

But in the tangled branches of the acacia trees, where the sunlight danced through the leaves, lived a clever monkey named Kijana. Unlike the others, Kijana did not cower before Simba. He was quick, sharp-tongued, and always thinking three steps ahead. While the other animals obeyed the lion’s every growl, Kijana watched, studied, and waited for the right moment to prove that wit could outmaneuver strength.

The Lion’s Feast

One dry season, when the rivers ran thin and the earth cracked with thirst, Simba called all the animals to his den beneath the great baobab tree. His voice rumbled like distant thunder.

"Bring me food!" he commanded. "Not scraps, not leftovers—the finest feast this land has seen! If you fail, I will hunt the slowest among you tonight."

Fear rippled through the crowd. The zebras stamped their hooves nervously. The antelopes lowered their heads. Even the elephants, mighty as they were, knew better than to challenge Simba’s wrath.

Only Kijana remained still, his dark eyes gleaming with an unspoken plan.

The Monkey’s Bargain

As the animals scattered to gather offerings, Kijana swung down from his tree and landed lightly before Simba. He bowed—just low enough to be polite, but not so low that it seemed like surrender.

"Great Simba," Kijana said, his voice smooth as honey, "I can bring you a feast unlike any other. But first, you must promise me two things."

Simba’s tail flicked. "You dare bargain with me, little thief of the trees?"

"Not a bargain," said Kijana. "A trade. I give you a meal fit for a king. In return, you spare my tribe from your hunts… and admit, before all, that my wit is greater than your strength."

A growl rolled in Simba’s chest. The audacity! Yet the promise of a grand feast tempted him. "Fine," he snarled. "But if you fail, I will crush you myself."

Kijana grinned. "Then watch closely, Your Majesty."

The Trick Unfolds

Instead of gathering fruit or meat like the others, Kijana climbed to the highest branch of the baobab and began to sing. His voice was strange—high and rhythmic, almost hypnotic.

"Come, come, sweet bees of the west!

Your golden treasure is the best!

A lion waits with jaws so wide,

But honey first must be supplied!"

To everyone’s astonishment, a great swarm of bees emerged from the distant hills, drawn by Kijana’s song. They buzzed in a dark cloud, settling upon the baobab’s flowers, dripping rich honey onto broad leaves below.

Kijana collected the honey in gourds and presented them to Simba. "The sweetest prize in the savanna," he declared. "A taste even kings rarely know."

Simba licked his chops. He had never tasted honey before. But when he dipped his tongue into the gourd, his eyes widened. It was magnificent—warm, golden, bursting with flavor.

"More!" he demanded. "Bring me more!"

Kijana shook his head. "Ah, but our deal was for one feast. If you want more, you must admit my wit is greater."

Simba’s claws dug into the earth. "Never!"

The Sting of Pride

Just then, the bees, angry at their stolen honey, descended upon Simba in a furious swarm. They stung his nose, his ears, even his mighty paws. The lion roared, thrashing, but the bees were relentless.

"Call them off!" he bellowed at Kijana.

The monkey folded his arms. "Admit it."

Simba yowled as another bee stung his tail. "FINE! Your wit is greater! Just make them STOP!"

With a laugh, Kijana sang another tune, and the bees dispersed as quickly as they had come. The animals gasped. Never before had they seen Simba humbled.

The New Law of the Land

From that day on, Simba still ruled the savanna—but he ruled differently. He hunted less, listened more, and even allowed Kijana to sit beside him as an advisor. The monkey’s tribe swung freely through the trees, untouched by fear.

And whenever Simba’s pride threatened to return, Kijana would simply hum a little tune… and the lion would remember the day he learned that true power lies not in teeth, but in thought.

Moral: "Strength may force obedience, but wisdom earns loyalty."