Discovering the Lion Mountains of Africa
In the heart of Africa, where the air hums with the whispers of ancient trees and the pulse of hidden rivers, the ‘General’ ruled. That’s what Lora, with her curious gray-blue eyes, called the Weather. The ‘General’ commanded the wind, the rain, and the skies, painting the world in colors of gold, orange, and deep blue.
It was September 22, and the Equinox had arrived on the Island. Leaves like shards of old gold danced in the air, while heavy rains drummed the streets, urging people to dash for shelter. At the airport, Lora held her mother’s hand tightly, her small rucksack bouncing on her back.
“Mom, will we really make it to Africa? Dad and my friends are waiting.”
Her mother smiled, brushing a lock of hair from Lora’s face. “Yes, Lora. The ‘General’ may test us, but we will get there.”
In the humming quiet of the plane, Lora lost herself in Sir David Attenborough’s stories of mammoths and chimpanzees. Each word pulled her deeper into the dreams of Africa until the pilot’s voice signaled landing at Freetown Airport, and the passengers clapped in relief.
Warm air kissed Lora’s face as she stepped down the plane’s ladder. “Haha, here the ‘General’ loves us,” she whispered, breathing in the sunlit air, the scent of earth and rain blending together.
They drove to the village, and that night, as Lora lay under the protective embrace of mosquito nets, she felt something soft near her feet. Buno, her playful white poodle, wagged his tail, and Lora hugged him with sleepy joy.
The next morning, clutching Buno, she ran to the village school. Children called her name, and Cassandra, slender and bright-eyed, hugged her tightly.
“Lora, Lora, welcome back!” Cassandra shouted.
Sam, mischievous and eager, asked, “Will you stay in our class again?”
After lessons, Cassandra led them beyond the village, toward the vast swamp where palm trees and giant trees whispered secrets. “Beyond there, chimpanzees live,” Cassandra told them, her voice alive with excitement.
Lora hesitated. “Aren’t chimpanzees dangerous?”
“Let’s go!” Cassandra laughed, and the group—Sam, Fino with his wild curls, and Buno—followed.
At the swamp, they applied mosquito repellent with practiced care. Suddenly, a gentle pat on Lora’s head startled her. She turned to see a Bonobo, standing upright, eyes dark and curious.
“This is Bonobo,” Cassandra explained. “He came from Congo. He’s gentle, closer to us than the wild chimps.”
Lora met Bonobo’s gaze, softly saying, “Bo-no-bo.” The monkey tilted his head, and the children joined in, chanting his name. Bonobo responded by touching each child’s shoulder, inviting them to follow.
Orange sunlight deepened, and Lora whispered, “The ‘General’ is showing us the world in warm colors today.”
They followed Bonobo along dusty paths to the Seva River, its waters shimmering in blue and orange light. Fish glinted like moving jewels beneath the surface. Lora sighed, “It’s like the tale of the Golden Fish.”
The forest sang with birds in emerald and silver, their songs a melody of life. Bonobo climbed a tree, playfully chasing a gray parrot that scolded him, repeating, “Bonobo, don’t chase the parrot!” in its thin, mimicking voice.
As laughter rang out, a screech-owl with chocolate feathers and wise yellow eyes glided down, landing on Bonobo’s shoulder. It circled him softly, singing a haunting, “Hu-hu-hu…”
Bonobo led them to the river’s edge where the Susu tribe, clad in leather skirts, surrounded them. Cassandra whispered, “This is the Susu tribe. They live close to nature.”
A tribal boy named Tama stepped forward, speaking in broken English. “Here, we speak the language of nature,” he said, pointing to the sky, the earth, and the creatures around them.
Bonobo yawned, his signal that it was time to move. They followed him, crossing rivers where diamonds hid beneath pebbles, reflecting the sun’s orange glow. A screech-owl’s diamond-like eyes guided them, reminding Lora that nature’s secrets were hidden in plain sight.
The children waded in the Seva, laughing as the water cooled their feet. Fino pulled a shining pebble from the riverbed, and they realized it was a diamond. The owl swooped down, taking the diamond and dropping it back into the river, restoring its hidden glow.
The Susu tribe sang and danced as the children joined, the Leopard Genetta—a wild, graceful cat with eyes like Lora’s—joining in their dance. As dusk fell, the children climbed a hill, gazing at the mountains shaped like lions, their rocky manes catching the sunset’s fire.
“These are the Lion Mountains,” Lora whispered.
Sam shot an arrow toward the mountains, and the earth trembled. Tama’s voice echoed through the hills, “Do not use the arrow unless needed.”
The screech-owl circled, guiding them as the air cleared, and the stars began to prick the velvet sky. They followed the owl, its diamond eyes lighting the way home through the Lion Mountains of Sierra Leone.
Back in her bed, Lora awoke to Buno’s gentle nudge. “Mom,” she said, “I have so much to write about. About the forests, the Susu tribe, Bonobo, the Leopard Genetta, and the Lion Mountains.”
Her mother smiled. “Write it, Lora, so you can share it with the world.”
Lora opened her notebook, her heart full, and wrote:
“We live on a magical planet, where the sky, the rivers, the animals, and the people are all connected. We must love our Earth loudly, protect its wonders, and keep the stories of its true guardians alive.”
Moral of the Story
Respect nature, its creatures, and the wisdom of those who live in harmony with it. The world holds wonders for those who see with curiosity, love, and humility.
