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The Duchess of Muanenguba————————Samira Edi

Know Your Enemy: My Sunday SoapBox.

Know Your Enemy: My Sunday SoapBox.

A dying baboon on its last legs goes to a lion who is resting quietly, high in a branch up a tree. The mischief-seeking primate is on the ground looking up. It is clear that he is using his fast ebbing strength and every cell in his body to provoke the lion by insulting him:

"Hey you stupid fool, Mr Lion, I am here to fight you today. Hey, Liiiioooooon, why don't you come down for a fight!! Who do you think you are, walking and talking about in the forest, with your head and tail held high, afraid of nobody, calling yourself a Lion? You're not all that big and powerful, are you?  Lie-on!! I always wanted to say this to you; you're nothing but a pussycat. I order you to come down from that perch and bow down before me. Lion!! Laaaaiyoooooon!!!, you should be ashamed of yourself. Look at me, Lion!! Look, turn your head and look at me!! You're too arrogant. What do you call yourself the king of the jungle for? A "LION" you call yourself? What? With that self-styled title? I AM THE KING OF THE JUNGLE, from today NOT YOU. Coward, come down and meet me here on the ground! Let me hear you say "mweng", just one more time, I will finish you. You've got no courage now, do you?"

Momentarily taken aback by this bizarre interruption, the lion sits up and screws his eyes to get a clearer view of his aggressor. He had noticed a few gibbering baboons around the jungle before, but not this particularly scrawny one.  What was going on with this one?  He had bald patches where fur used to be, gaps in his dentition, ticks and fleas crawled on his back, red eyes, all bones and ribs, and was talking pure gibberish. He didn't even have a tail to swish and chase a fly. Looking closer, it dawns on him; after noticing the growing puddle of wee and other bodily fluids dripping from the baboon's body that something really was amiss. With  this realisation, his startled eyes dim with a feeling of pity. This is the bonker's ploy of a walking ghost, as far as he was concerned.
The lion sighs, yawns, turns his head towards the opposite direction and ignores the screeching baboon on the ground. He goes to sleep.

"LION, LISTEN. I want you to shut up!" The feeble voice of the groaning baboon barely shattered the tranquility of the lion's dreamland. "Lion, lazy lion," Continued the dying gibbon, raising his voice to a gibbering croak to taunt the sleeping King of the jungle awake:
"You cannot talk now that I've challenged you, can you? I have exposed your weakness. Come down and fight me or catch me if you can."

The lion still doesn't say anything, but yawns again. 
The baboon adds mischievously:

"Idiot lion. Lazy jerk, foolish animal, you're weak. I challenge you to a fight. It will be the biggest fight in the jungle yet. Come down and fight me. Or bow down and acknowledge my presence. Acknowledge me, look at me."

A few silly animals, attracted by the commotion, had converged close to the baboon, mouths agape. Even the sloth had managed to crawl a few paces out from his hideout, accompanied by the ngombe, a few filthy pigs, old bleating goats, thieving rats, cheeky monkeys, an excited chimpanzee, the cunning fox, poisionous rattlesnakes, rough cows, silly sheep, crawling caterpillars, disgusting millipedes, side-winding crabs, rabid dogs, the jackass, vicious fact, the lot of all the inferior animals in the jungle whose curiosity had got the better of them.
They couldn't contain themselves, for they had always envied the lion. For the baboon of all persons to stand up and challenge this proud lion was unheard of. Impossible! The world must've shifted on its axis.
Some of the animals began to goad and encourage the baboon, prodding him with a stick on the back to go on. They wiped the sweat on his face, gave him water to clear his patched throat, fist-bumped him, tail-twined each other, hugged and egged him on. One excited hen fluttered and flew around quacking excitedly. She attempted to lay an egg for the baboon's pleasure, which landed on his head instead as it broke.

A tiger in a nearby branch wonders aloud:

"Who is this ghastly and emaciated, skeletal baboon who dares to challenge the king of the jungle to a dwell?"

The poor misadvised and excited ape is buoyed by his momentary popularity. He tries to shimmy up the tree, but he is too weak and he falls flat on his back in a pathetic heap. Picking himself off the dust with the great difficulty, he continues his gibberish tirade.

"Answer me, Lion. Why don't you want to fight me? Look at me, lion, look at me." The echoes of his cries were beginning to sound hollow, even to him.

Suddenly, the lion bursts out into a hysterical laughter until the tears began to roll down his cheeks.

"I am a lion, you're a pitifully sick old disgusting baboon. Do you think I am not aware that you have Ebola? Please go and afflict your fellow idiots and die elsewhere. H i h i h i h i h i h i h i h i h i h i"
The lion went ballistic with laughter.

With that, the lion turns, continues laughing with the tiger and ignores the baboon and all the other animals on the ground next to him.

As soon as the lion had spoken, the baboon felt slighted. He turns angrily to address his posse of cheerleaders and new friends only to discover that everyone around him had vanished into the bushes.
The're's a lesson here. Know your enemies and why they come after you. Sometimes, they're just pathetic imitators whose hostile attacks are the projections of their desperation and pitiful pleas to be like you, which could be interpreted as envy. Listen to the lyrics of this famous song "I want to be like you' ooh"

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