This morning turned into an unforgettable moment when I came across a heartbreaking sight. A poor, tiny baby monkey sat in the hands of an old man. His little belly looked empty, and his eyes told the story of hunger and sadness. That little one was Bibo.
The old man explained that Bibo had been with him for a short time, but he couldn’t provide the milk or care the baby desperately needed. Bibo’s cries were soft but filled with pain, as if he was begging for someone to understand his hunger. My heart ached at the sight of him—so fragile, so helpless, yet so full of hope.
I knew right then that I couldn’t walk away. I asked the old man if I could take Bibo with me, promising him that I would give this baby the care he needed. With a nod of agreement, the old man gently handed Bibo over. The moment I held him, I felt his tiny hands cling to my fingers. It was as if he understood that a new chapter of his life was beginning.
On the way home, Bibo rested against my chest, his body trembling from weakness. I hurried to prepare warm milk, and when I offered the bottle, his little mouth latched on eagerly. The way he drank—so desperately, yet relieved—was a sight that melted my heart.
Bibo finally had what he had been crying for: food, warmth, and love. After his belly was full, he nestled close, closing his eyes in peace for the first time in what must have been days.
Rescuing Bibo was more than saving a hungry baby monkey—it was giving him the chance at a life filled with care, comfort, and a family that would never let him go hungry again.
