Pride Lands: Generations


LEGAL NOTE: This original work by Terry McNamee is based on the world of Walt Disney's feature film The Lion King and is inspired by that film's characters, as well as that of "Chronicles of the Pride Lands", another work of fiction by John Burkitt and David Morris. However, other than elements taken directly from The Lion King (which are the property of The Walt Disney Company) and those borrowed from Mr. Burkitt and Mr. Morris (to be named momentarily), all other aspects of this work are entirely original and can stand alone without reference to either the film or the Chronicles.


Comments on this work are greatly appreciated and respected and may be sent to the following e-mail address:


The characters Asumini, Makedde, and Busara, as well as any others from the Chronicles mentioned in passing, are the property of John Burkitt and David Morris. The character Kiruu is the property of Angie Ippolito. The character of Ushandra is the property of Scar II. Used with permission.


Finally, this story is a fictional work. All resemblance to any characters living or dead is purely coincidental.


ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS: The author wishes to thank the following people for their suggestions, contributions, and general moral support, as well as criticism and input during the writing process--Asali Nyuki, Justin Bradley, Jon Chapman, Kelly Chase, Michael Chua, Leon Cramer, Maryanne Delf, Erez Ekhouse, Be'erit Goldfarb, Terje Gulbrandsen, Angie Ippolito, Ashleigh LaCroix, Marsha McNamee, Dan Miller, Dan Moesel, Megyn Moon, James Novak, Tina Ponzetti, Matt Rzepka, Scar II, Anthony Urzi, Mick Wiekens, Ryan Yu. Any others I may have forgotten, trust me, you are remembered and appreciated!




This work has been long in the making, its inception dating from November of 1998. After a year and a half of sporadic writing between college classes, mainstream writing for publication, and the vagaries of everyday life, its completion comes as a surprise, a relief, yet also a sad farewell. At almost every point during its crafting it was an intense labor, but also a labor of love. I laughed with my characters and cried with them, they lived in my thoughts and dreams, they appeared on paper--in print and in artwork, courtesy of both myself and friends inspired by my work (or a favor in the name of friendship). Although I now close the book on Dhahabu and his history, he will always rule in my heart, as prominent as Mufasa, Simba, or any other Lion King character. It was a dream of mine to envision the past and ancestry of the Pride Lands lions ever since I first saw the film, to seek out the origins of future triumphs and conflicts, to set the stage for recurring themes and the battle between good and evil waged in human (or leonine) hearts that continually repeats itself, following the course of the Circle of Life. I have succeeded to my own satisfaction, and hopefully to that of the readers as well. Read this work and take from it whatever lessons you may find here, in relation to The Lion King and to life itself. I thank Walt Disney for creating a studio that could fashion such a masterpiece; the animators, directors, producers, story developers, and other various staff whose talents produced it; and God for giving me the talent and the willpower to bring this work into existence as the odyssey and adventure it has been and will always be to me.


---Terry McNamee, June 13, 2000






            Still breathing hard from their tussle in the grass, Simba sprawled on his back across his father's head, staring up at the scintillating African sky, where each star shone like the look of mischief in Nala's eyes. Soon, however, he began to shiver. The air was cooling rapidly, freezing the dew on the blades of grass.

            Sliding down from Mufasa's head, Simba burrowed into the thick layers of his father's mane and sighed contentedly. He was almost asleep when he thought of a question he'd meant to ask earlier.



            Simba peered up into his father's gentle yellow eyes. "You said the great kings of the past are up there, right?"

            "Yes, son."

            "Well...who were they?"

            Mufasa raised an eyebrow and cocked his head, surprised. "You mean you'd stay awake to hear a story? Don't you have a big day planned tomorrow?"

            Simba smirked. "Yeah, you bet I do! I--" He caught himself as Mufasa began to laugh whole-heartedly.

            "I'm sorry I teased you, son." Mufasa was still chuckling.

            "No you're not," Simba muttered, not really meaning it. Then he sighed.

"But I really do want to hear it, Dad!"

            Mufasa eyed him appraisingly. "You do. I can see it. Well, I suppose you're old enough..."

            "Course I am!" Simba stood up proudly and puffed out his chest.

            Mufasa rolled his eyes. "That's not what I meant. The stories that I would tell you aren't really for a cub's ears."

            "Are they exciting?" Simba demanded.

            "Some are. But others are sad, and they all concern death in one way or another. The Circle of Life is not always gentle."

            The cub shook his head. "Dad, I can handle it!"

            Mufasa sighed. "All right, but don't say I didn't warn you. And remember: whatever happens in this story, you must always believe the Circle of Life will continue to turn. Good will follow evil, hope will follow despair. It is like a rainstorm: shadows and gloom may sweep across the land, but there is always sunshine on the other side. And you must never avoid the storms the Circle brings, for this will only lengthen your journey."

            Simba frowned, confused.

            "Listen to the story, Simba, and you will understand," Mufasa explained gently.

            Excited, Simba settled down into his father's mane once more. The air was colder still, and he could see their breath fogging, but Mufasa's chest was warm and strong, and Simba could feel his steady, reassuring heartbeat. In the distance, he saw a dark silhouette sail across the moon, a bird of some sort. Then the cry of a heron cut through the silence.

            "Once, many moons ago, the Pride Lands were not safe, and the lions who lived here did not have Pride Rock for shelter. The land had been seized by the first Lion King, Mfalme, from a cruel lion named Giza who abused the land and all that lived on it. In a fair fight he defeated Giza and turned him out. The grateful lionesses of the pride made Mfalme their king, and he named the pride "Kiburi." But the story really begins with the birth of his son, Dhahabu..."