“When you are a King, forget not that the Antelope graze on
your ancestors!”
Ahadi sat on the tip of the promontory, bathed in the warm glory of the morning sun. Young Mufasa was as close to the edge as his father would allow, watching at the distant herd of wildebeests. Their movement across the plain mesmerized him as the herd changed shape like a single dark cloud. Taka was snuggled between Ahadi’s arms, his back and head buried in the soft mane that wrapped his father’s face. Ahadi looked down at Taka and quietly kissed him between the ears. There was no need to say anything in that moment, and Taka simply rubbed his face against one of Ahadi’s powerful arms and touched it with his tongue.
The morning lesson had to come soon; before long, Mufasa would be too engrossed in games and adventures to concentrate on learning. Were Taka an only son, things would have been much simpler, for he was blessed with the patience and curiosity of his mother. He absorbed knowledge as dry earth absorbed rain.
Ahadi looked into the distance at the setting moon, and a slight wind stirred his mane as the morning winds ushered in the new day. “From the start there was Aiheu the Beautiful,” Ahadi said. His voice could be loud and commanding but that moment it was as soft and pleasant as a warm hug.
“Aiheu was the first of the living and the cause of all life. He had many spirit children, and he shared his love and knowledge with them. It was a happy time, but still unfulfilling for the lives of spirit children were of thought alone. And Aiheu sensed that his children were longing for something more.
“So Aiheu went to the world of Ma’at which at that time was completely dark and sterile. He put two lights in the heavens, the sun and moon. And the brightness of the sun caused the water to form clouds, and wherever the clouds rained on the dry earth, green plants grew. And so in time the world of Ma’at was changed from ugliness into beauty.
“And Aiheu summoned his spirit children to show them his work. The beauty of the land was the first thing they had ever seen, and they were very pleased. For a time, they explored the world, some preferring the skies, others the ground, others the trees, and others the waters. And yet they were still unfulfilled, for the sun did not warm them, the breeze did not cool them nor the waters wash them, and they could not feel the grass beneath their feet. And they asked Aiheu, ‘What does this land have to do with us? We are strangers here.’ So Aiheu moistened some soil with water, and with his hands shaped the first bodies. Some were fish, others birds, and others the animals that walked on land and climbed trees, each according to the domains they were created for. When he breathed into the bodies, they took on life and became dwelling places for spirit children. Because they were finally part of the world, they could feel the warm sun, the cool breeze, the waters and the grass. They had these and many other pleasures, but they were given a warning. The price of pleasure is often pain. And it was not long until they had all felt pain, yet they assured Aiheu that pleasure was worth the price. This was the first agreement, that pleasure is worth pain.”
Taka nudged his father’s leg. “Why did some spirits want to be birds, and some want to be fish? I was just born this way and I didn’t get to choose. Did they get to choose?”
“That’s a good question. Why do YOU think they chose the way they did?”
“I don’t know. I mean, who’d want to be a bird when you could be a lion?? They’re safe and their strong, and they’re so cool.”
“And they have to outrun dinner, and they get gored by impalas and they don’t know what it’s like to fly. Aiheu gave blessings to all his children.”
“Oh.”
“Are you happy being what you are?”
“Sure.”
“Why, if I may ask?”
“Because if I was anything else, I wouldn’t be your son.”
Ahadi cuddled him next to his heart with his broad, strong paw and purred deeply. “And I wouldn’t be your father, so we’re both glad.” He nudged Taka and smiled slyly, pointing at Mufasa. Unaware of his audience, Muffy kept glaring at the wildebeest herd as his father continued in a normal teaching voice:
“Lions have several blessings. They get to eat dirt and roll in elephant dung. And when they’re really lucky, they get to jump in the thorn bush and flop around until their hides are red with blood. ISN’T THAT SO, MUFFY??”
“Of course,” Mufasa said, looking around. “Everyone knows that.”
“You do that as often as you should, don’t you?”
“Uh, yes sir. Maybe I forget sometimes, but not very often.”
Taka began to giggle and roll on the ground. “Eat dirt and roll in the dung!”
Mufasa looked at his brother sharply. “Well, maybe I missed a little bit.”
Ahadi nodded with a wry smile and continued. “Now that we’re all listening, understand that those bodies of Ma’at were not permanent. Earth, water and air may only rest apart. When they are mixed, they become restless and strive to separate. That is why death and decay are part of the world, for the elements will eventually prevail. Aiheu knew this, so he took steps to prevent the world from becoming sterile. He went to the Lake of Mara and changed its waters into the first milk. And all animals were brought together to drink from it.
“Milk fertilizes animals the way rain fertilizes plants, for it makes soil, water and air content to mix for a time. And all those who drank milk obtained the gift to produce milk in their bodies. The milk of the male could awaken new life in his mate, and the milk of the female could sustain it. For no living thing except Aiheu can create life from the ground by breathing into it. This was the second agreement, that life should always continue.”
Mufasa rolled on his back and looked up at his rudimentary teats. “Gosh, I didn’t know we could give milk!”
“Further back, nit-wit,” Taka said with an amused smile. “Gods, sometimes you act so dumb! When you get married, you sit on your wife’s tail and she’ll have babies!”
“Taka!” Ahadi shouted with a frown.
Taka flattened out on the ground, glanced at his father’s stern face, then looked away and shuddered. Indeed he looked so miserable, Ahadi could not remain angry and he came and nuzzled him.
“Son, we’ll discuss it later. Some things you need to hear from your father, not your little friends.”
“You’re not mad at me?”
“No, son. Surprised maybe, but not mad. But don’t ever call Muffy a nit-wit. Sometimes he has a little trouble paying attention, but he’s bright and what’s more, he loves you very much.”
Mufasa glanced at Taka plaintively, then shyly looked away. In his own way, his feelings were as easily hurt as his brother’s, but he had different ways of showing it.
“Come here, son. Well, Muffy?”
Mufasa looked at Taka, then looked away, and crept to his father’s side. Ahadi nuzzled him. “I’m sure Taka is very sorry he said that.”
Taka looked down and very quietly, very shyly said, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have called you a nit-wit. Friends?”
Mufasa waited a while--he felt that Taka deserved to squirm for a moment.
“Well, son?” Ahadi nudged him and nodded slightly. “Do you accept his apology?”
“Yeah. I guess so.”
Ahadi smiled wryly and nudged him. “You guess so?”
“Okay.”
Taka hopped up and down. “Oh goodie! Does that mean I get a big wet smooch?”
“I’ll smooch YOU!” Mufasa shouted, charging. He tangled with Taka, wrestling with abandon and giggling.
“STOP!” Ahadi was livid. “Not up here! My gods, do you want to fall off and get killed??”
Mufasa looked back at his left foot. Two of his toes were actually over the edge, and trembling he crouched and slinked away from the sheer drop-off.
“Now then, let’s finish the lesson while I still have my nerve.” Ahadi looked off the promontory, cringed, and took in a deep breath, letting it out in a sigh.
“The world was very large, but it was not without limits. So Aiheu offered his children two paths. Either they could choose who may carry on the line, or they could all be treated equally and Aiheu would find another way to control them. And they all said, ‘Treat us equally,’ for no one wanted to be the one to live alone. So Aiheu chose some animals to be hunters and others to be hunted that they may keep the earth in balance. Thus arose all the peoples and their ways that carry on to this day. This was the third agreement, that a full life involves struggle.
“Aiheu separated them into two groups, and one group dwarfed the other. ‘To the greater group, I give the plants of the field and the fruits of the trees. But lest you strip the earth of all green things with your offspring, I give the lesser group a taste for blood. To them I give the eaters of plants.’
“Some of the plant eaters were upset and cried out to God that they should not all die. To this, Aiheu answered, ‘I offer you to the hunters, but they must catch you first. Be vigilant, wise, and careful, and you will not perish from the land I give you.’”
Ahadi looked at Taka and Mufasa. “What does this mean?”
“Me, me!” Taka chimed.
“Let your brother get this one.”
Mufasa thought for a moment. “Well, I think....”
“Go on.”
Taka huffed. “He wasn’t paying attention!”
“No, Taka. Let him take his time.”
Mufasa said, “It means that God is fair. It also means that we’re all really brothers, and even though we kill antelopes and eat them, we shouldn’t hate them because they’re people just like us.”
Ahadi smiled and nuzzled him. “That’s EXACTLY what it means. See, Taka, your old father doesn’t have dim children!” Ahadi nuzzled Taka. “Do I, Taka?”
“Oh, Dad!”
“Well??” He began to tickle him.
“I guess not. He he!”
“You guess not??”
Giggling and squirming, Taka said, “OK, OK! He he he! Cut it out, Dad! Daaaad!”
“Well all right then!”
When Ahadi sat upright again, Taka quickly sat back against his father’s chest and snuggled into his mane.
“And when Aiheu had set this into motion, he showed them that it was not random, but part of his plan from the beginning. The cycles of birth, growth, death, and decay were like four legs—they had to work together to travel anywhere. Yet from his steadfast love, he would have his children accept the three agreements of their own free will.
“Some beings did not choose to accept these agreements. These spirit children were the first Nisei, which are the good spirits which oversee the balances of creation. They are often called the minor gods, though they are truly brothers to the animals. The major gods arose from the lake of milk, and they were all kindly like Aiheu.
“Then one day Koko the gorilla came along. He wanted a son, though no female would pledge to him. So he made a crude baby out of mud, but not having the wisdom of Aiheu it was only in the outward shape of one. He threw the mud into the lake and it melted, spoiling the milk. From the fouled milk of Mara arose the terrible race of the Makei. Just enough mud had been cast into the lake that they could take the shapes of Ma’at, but not the substance. And while they longed for pleasure, they were unable to experience it. Grief and anger, however, were theirs and they plumbed them to the depths for only when they were sad or angry did they feel alive.
“They cried out to Aiheu. ‘Lord! Why have you given us only pain? Where is our beauty, our happiness?’
“And Aiheu wept, for their suffering was dire. And he said, ‘Though the cause does not lie in your own actions, you are polluted. Do not be filled with resentment, but rather be mindful of the hope I offer you. Cleansing comes from within, in a clean heart and truthful witness. You will be sorely tempted by the mud, but you are also full of my milk, and it will overcome all else if you let it. Remember in your darkness that my light is with you, shining on the true path.’”
“What happened to the gorilla?” Mufasa asked.
“Koko confessed what he did before Aiheu, and he was pardoned. Aiheu gave him authority over the mud to purge the lake, and he became the keeper of the lake until it was finally drained at the end of the first era. Because he drank from the milk each day, he only began to age when the lake was no more, and his days were two hundred and seventy years.”
Taka said, “But if it kept him alive all that time, wasn’t Aiheu rewarding him for doing something wrong?”
“Who said it was a reward?” Ahadi asked with a sly grin. “How would you like to guard that watering hole for two hundred and seventy years?”
“I see what you mean.”
“Personally, I’m glad that if I take care of you, God willing I’ll die first as is the natural order of things, and I’ll never have to watch my sons die.”
“But I don’t want to watch you die either!” Taka said, pressing tighter against his father.
“Of course you don’t. But by then you and Sarabi will be married and have lots of cubs to take care of. The same way I miss my parents, but I spend most of my time thinking about you two and your mother. Someday you’ll have people to take care of, and it won’t hurt as badly as if it happened right now.”
He continued with the story: “I would not have you ignorant concerning death, for Aiheu has provided for his children. When an animal dies whose life is acceptable to God, it becomes one of the second Nisei. They oversee the welfare of those they left behind. The greatest of the second Nisei are the Great Kings of the Past and those whom Aiheu has blessed for good service. Koko became one of the second Nisei. And then there are animals whose deeds are constantly evil, and they join the Makei. These are doomed to walk the earth without bodies until they find the image of Aiheu within themselves and seek redemption through service. They are called the Makei, which means ‘the bringers of tears,’ for their suffering makes Aiheu weep.
“The first children of Aiheu were close to their God and to each other, for their spirits had roamed free together. But their children who were born to bodies of soil were not able to hear the words of the Lord. To keep the peoples from losing touch with him entirely, Aiheu anointed some children with holy chrisum that from birth they may hear him when he speaks. And these he called shamans. They were strictly charged to bring the word of God to his peoples with honesty and unselfishness. A lying shaman is worse than the Makei, and Aiheu will not weep for them nor will he repent of his anger.”
“Are there any lion shamans?” Taka asked. “Are they all monkeys like Makedde and Rafiki?”
Ahadi laughed a little. “There were a few lion shamans, but not very many. We have a lot of work to do, protecting our family and ruling responsibly. Many more were lionesses, but they usually have to hunt for their mates and cubs.”
“And monkeys don’t have as much to do?”
“I wouldn’t say that,” Ahadi said. “Every time I see Rafiki, he’s busy.”
“Yeah, just like you.” Taka sighed. “If God put us into this world to have fun, why do we have to work all the time?”
“Sometimes I wonder that myself,” Ahadi said, kissing him. “But you know what? When I’m out there patrolling the borders, I think about my sons and my mate safe at home, and it gives me a warm feeling inside. Somehow when I come home the love I get is much better because I feel like I’ve earned it. The hard times make the good times feel more special.” Ahadi smiled. “Story’s over. You can go play now.”
Mufasa ran and kissed Ahadi good-bye, then he bounded off like a liberated prisoner. Taka continued to snuggle against Ahadi’s soft mane.
“What’s wrong, Taka? Why don’t you go and play?”
“You said we’d talk later. I want to get it over with.”
“You’re shaking, my son. Why? I’m not angry with you!”
“You’re not? Honest?”
“I don’t say things I don’t mean.” He gently pressed Taka into his soft chest with a paw. “I just want to know what your little friends told you. I’m not even going to ask their names.”
“Oh.”
“You can play with Muffy now. We’ll talk later. I’m an experienced lion, and I can tell you things your young friends never even dreamed of. Then when they tell you nonsense, you can smile and think about how foolish they are.”
Taka smiled with amusement and started to walk off.
“Forgetting something?”
Taka turned, horrified. He rushed back to Ahadi and when the King bent down kissed him several times. “Dad, you know I love you. I just forgot. Honest!”
“I know. You see, I know Muffy loves me because he tells me every day. But you never have to tell me. Everything you do shows it.”
Taka stood on his back feet and put his paws into his father’s great mane. He stood there rubbing his face against his father for several moments before standing down and going to look for his brother. Ahadi reached up with his paw and felt the spot where his son had been, smoothing down his mane. “I’m going to have to say that again sometime.”