Hello listers.

I know my posts have mainly been humouristic. With this next story I 
wanted to prove to myself I could write serious and maybe even touching 
things as well. I hope you enjoy it, because this is the first time I 
really put my heart and soul into a story.


In celebration of the 50th birthday of the Universal Declaration of 
Human Rights :
********
The Meeting by Rob “Mr. Bananabeak” Driessen


Simba padded slowly through the plains. It was getting late and the sun 
was on her way down. There was a kind of serene silence in the air as if 
no creature had any worries on their mind. Simba liked this part of day 
the most. It felt as if peace was tangible. As if no Makei dared to 
enter the Pridelands. As if the circle of life shone above them to 
protect them from evil.

His day had been rather dull : a meeting with the Incosi of the 
Zebra’ha, a little debate with Zazu over allowing new herds to enter the 
Pridelands. Nothing serious. 
Fortunately there had been enough time left to spend with Kiara and 
Nala. They went sunbathing and playing near a small riverbend; Kiara 
tried to catch a fish and Simba just laid in the sun resting his head on 
the one he loved most. “If only more days could be like this one”, he 
thought.

And now he was busy performing his final duty for the day : patrolling 
the border. Simba took his time, because nothing had to be overlooked. 
Every pawprint could mean the presence of an intruder. In the distance 
Simba could see another lion walking through the Pridelands. Simba 
started walking faster, but he quickly came to realise that this lion 
would pose no threat to his kingdom. The lion looked old, even ancient. 
His manes were very long and of a grayish white colour. His face showed 
some similarities with that of Rafiki. Simba could see in his eyes that 
this was a wise and kind creature, although his body was weary and 
covered with scars. Simba decided to approach this lion open-minded and 
with the same kindness he showed to his pride.

But before Simba could say a word, the stranger spoke :
	“Greetings, I trust it you are the ruler of these lands ?”
	“Yes. I am Simba. King of the Pridelands”
The old lion walked up to Simba and placed his front paw on Simba’s 
shoulder.
	“I touch your mane, great leader.”
	“I feel it. What brings you to these lands, stranger ?’
	“I am on my way to my final restingplace. I’m looking for a nice spot 
to leave this old body and enter the kingdom of the great Minshasa. I am 
sorry if I am trespassing, but I mean you no harm.”
	“I understand. Feel free to cross my lands. You seem like you have 
fought enough battles in your life.”
	“Yes, I have.”, the old lion said, while a slight smile appeared on his 
face. “But they were all worth fighting for.”
Simba took another look at the lion with the gray/white manes. He stood 
like a proud lion, one with a story and great believes. Simba thought a 
moment and said :
	“Would you mind if I accompany you on your journey ? At least through 
my lands ? I would love to hear more about your battles. You must have 
lived quite an interesting life.”
	“Oh, yes I have.  And I would be honoured if you would walk with me.”
	“I have the feeling the honour will be mine.”
Simba turned around and waited for the other lion to walk alongside of 
him.

At first their journey was a silent one. The lion looked around and was 
visibly admiring Simba’s lands.
	“Your lands are beautiful, Simba. They remind me of the ones I once 
had.”
	“Thank you. And where were your lands, if I may ask ?”
	“Oh, quite far from here. I wanted to see something from the world, 
before my life would end.”
	“You said you had lands”. Does that mean you were a king as well ?”
	“Yes, but not in the way I was supposed to be.”
Simba looked a bit puzzled but said nothing. The old lion saw his 
expression
	“Let me explain. My father Tembu was king of a large pride. But it was 
a pride of lions inside the lands of another type of creature; like 
hyenas, but with a pale face. There were more of us, but none of us had 
the courage to stand up to them. They ruled with fear and used us as 
their slaves. If one of us made a mistake, he was killed and so was his 
family. No one of us knew any better. It had been like this for 
generations.”
	Simba listened with fascination. He thought he had a hard life with his 
exile, his fight for Pride Rock, but it all seemed small next to this 
lion’s story.
	“But, was there nowhere to turn ? Couldn’t you leave the lands ?”
	“We would not leave them. Our parents told us stories from many 
generations ago, when all lands belonged to the lions. Everything was 
fine, until the hyenas came. Those stories ment very much to us. Very 
much to me. I wanted to hear every story and they made me to what I am 
now. Those stories fueled me in my believes that we should find a way to 
reclaim the lands, or maybe even find a solution to live together 
peacefully. So I tried to become the voice of my pride.”
	“How did the hyena’s react to a lion that stood up to them ?”
	“Well, at first they didn’t pay much attention to me. But when I joined 
a  group to have a better case, I was summoned to their leaders. They 
were talking about exile, imprisonment and death, but those were just 
threats. I already had quite a following, so the last thing they wanted 
was to make a martyr out of me. In the end they sent me back to my 
pride, but our group was forbidden.”

The old lion bent his head and looked away. The sun was slowly 
disappearing and younger animals were getting ready for the night. There 
was a gentle breeze that played with the manes of the two lions. They 
passed a stream and the old lion halted for a moment to quench his 
thirst. Simba took the opportunity to ask another question : “So how did 
it go from there ? What happened to the other lions in your group ?”
	“I was nothing more than a young impatient lion then. I thought when 
the hyenas wouldn’t listen to our words, they would have to suffer the 
consequences. Violence became the only thing on my mind. Oh, how foolish 
I was. I formed a group of my own. Young aggressive lions, ready to 
fight for their freedom. But the hyenas outnumbered us at least a 
thousand times. I was caught and brought before their leaders once more. 
This time they were less friendly.”
	
Simba shivered. He thought of the idea of the hyenas taking over the 
pridelands. Exiling him once more, hurting his pride, his family. He 
couldn’t bear the thought. The old lion saw his reaction and continued 
his story.
	“They said a couple of moons of imprisonment would teach me some 
manners. During the day I had to do all sorts of chores. Clean their 
caves, dig holes, that kind of stuff. And at night I had to stay in a 
small cave while a few hyenas stood guard. But my imprisonment wasn’t 
enough for the hyenas. They tracked down the other members of my group 
and many other lions who weren’t happy with the situation. I was taken 
from my cave and my entire group was accused for plotting to overthrow 
the hyenas with violence. We were given a couple of minutes to speak on 
our own behalf. I looked around and saw many hyenas but also some birds 
sitting in nearby trees. I made a statement where I put my heart and 
soul in, hoping for the birds to pass on the story. The hyenas weren’t 
too impressed with my statement and nearly every one of us was sentenced 
to life imprisonment.”

	“My gods “, Simba said. “Is this really true ? I’ve had some 
experiences with hyenas, but I’ve never seen them as brute as you 
discribe !”
	“What good would it be if I was lying ?”, the other lion replied, “I’m 
proud of the truth and it should be passed on to as many creatures as 
possible. But to continue my story : I spent many, many moons in prison. 
The hyenas found it easier to keep an eye on me if I was put on an 
island. So they took me to the sea and threw me on an island. Just some 
trees, some rocks, a bit of shelter and that was it.”
Simba looked at the old lion’s face, looking for any kind of clue. He 
couldn’t believe this was a true story. Yet when he looked at the rest 
of the lion, his doubts melted like snow in the sun. This had really 
happened.
	“How did you escape ? You wouldn’t have been here if you didn’t ?”
	“As a matter of fact, I did not escape. I spent my time on the island 
thinking of a better world. And for what it’s worth : escaping was not 
an option. I was heavily guarded by some fierce hyenas.”
	“You do know how to make a story interesting. So how did you get off 
the island then ?
	“The birds. They were the key to my freedom. They passed on my 
statement to other lions, other creatures and other lands. At first 
everyone reacted just like you do now. But my story WAS spread. And the 
more others heared about me, the more they sympathised with me. And with 
every creature that passed it on, my story changed. In the end I was 
named a symbol of resistance. The hyenas visited me a few times to offer 
me my freedom in exchange for no more campaigning, but I refused all 
those petty offers. It took a lot of time, but in the end I had more 
creatures behind me than the hyenas. Fortunately they realised that 
themselves and I was released a couple of moons ago. I spent the last 
days of my life trying to get the hyenas and the lions together, even 
after all they did to me. I went home to my pride and before I knew it, 
I was a king. I teamed up with my old friend Tamho and together we 
battled on for equal rights. We spoke a lot with the hyenas and made 
them realise that we could benefit each other if we could only live 
together as equals. Animals from all over the world visited our lands to 
pay respect to us and urge the hyenas to live together with us. We now 
have members in their council, there are lions in high positions and for 
a while I’ve been king of both lions and hyenas. But that’s all in the 
past now. My pride has come to the point where they can do without 
me........so here I am.”

Neither lion spoke the next couple of minutes. They just walked and 
enjoyed the last rays of sunshine of the day. When they reached a 
certain kopje, Simba halted and said : “We have reached the border of my 
lands. Thank you very much for sharing your story with me. It has moved 
me and I admire you for your wisdom and persistance. I wish you well for 
the rest of your journey. May Aiheu smile on you on your path.”
	“No. It is you I have to thank, Simba. Thank you for walking with me, 
thank you for listening and thank you for your kindness. I am sure your 
reign will be a glorious one.”
With those words the old lion turned his head and crossed the border. 
Simba watch him walk away, when suddenly one final question came up in 
his mind :
	“Wait !”, he shouted. “You haven’t even told me your name !”
The old lion looked back at Simba and while he walked into the setting 
sun he said :”Call me.......Mandela.”

The end.
10 december 1998
(c) Rob "Mr. Bananabeak" Driessen.

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