Little baby Nunu didn’t understand why his mama, GiGi, suddenly pushed him away.
It was a warm morning, and he was feeling hungry. With soft chirps, he reached for her belly, searching for comfort, for milk—something he always thought was his right. But GiGi, still young and learning motherhood, wasn’t ready this time. She had been pacing restlessly, her body tired, her mind overwhelmed.
When Nunu crawled under her again, she snapped.
With a sudden motion, GiGi kicked him away.
It wasn’t violent—but it was sharp enough to startle him. Nunu rolled gently on the ground, stunned. His eyes filled with tears. His tiny hands reached toward her in confusion.
“Mmm-mmm…” he whimpered softly.
Why was Mama angry? Was he bad? Why no milk?
GiGi turned away, sitting down to groom herself, ignoring his cries. To her, it was a moment of space, a pause. But to Nunu, it was a heartbreak.
The little monkey stayed curled on the floor, tail tucked, sobbing in soft hiccups. Other monkeys nearby watched, unsure whether to step in.
Eventually, GiGi glanced back. She saw his tiny back shaking, his shoulders slumped.
Her expression softened.
She walked slowly to him, placing a hand gently on his head. Nunu looked up, unsure whether to trust her again—but when she lifted him close and pressed her forehead to his, he knew.
She still loved him.
Mama GiGi was still learning, just like him. And while she couldn’t give him milk that moment, she gave him something just as powerful—reassurance.
