How the Lion Learned to Lead and Other Stories

Now as time went by, Shinga began to grow older and weaker. And when he was finding it harder to catch anything bigger than a scrub hare to eat – remember, in those far off days each lion hunted alone – he knew it was nearly time for his first-born son, Husimba, to take over as leader of the lions, because that was the order of things. And that worried Shinga. Now, Husimba means strength, and when you think of a lion king, that’s probably what you would think of – a big, strong lion like Shinga, with a fearsome roar, and rippling muscles, and a thick, dark mane, and fierce warrior’s eyes. But Husimba wasn’t like that. Like all male lions, he was quite big and strong, but his roar wasn’t that fearsome, and his eyes weren’t the eyes of a fierce warrior. Husimba had warm, friendly eyes. Kind eyes. And he was softly spoken, and he liked to sit under the shade of an acacia tree, out of the hot summer sun, and think. “He worries me,” Shinga said to Husimba’s mother, Tira. “He is too soft, too gentle. To be the leader of the lions as is his destiny, he must be strong and forceful. Our enemies will not fear him, and the other lions will not follow him if he speaks softly and doesn’t prove his strength as a warrior.” “He’s still young,” said Tira. “His character will grow and develop. But remember, he’s not like you, Shinga. Yes, he has a kinder nature. But that doesn’t make him weak.” “Nonsense!” replied Shinga. “There’s no room for kindness when you’re leading and protecting a kingdom. Others will take advantage of kindness. It is a weakness. And the king must be strong to defeat our enemies.” “I know you are strong in that way, Shinga,” replied Tira cautiously. “I have seen you use your power to discipline a lion who doesn’t behave as they should. I remember how you drove Kuba from the pride after he turned on you, as I know you had to do. But there are different ways of achieving the same end. Perhaps Husimba needs to learn to be stronger in situations like that, but that doesn’t mean he must become unkind. He could stand up for what he believes in, and do what he needs to do, without making others feel small or worthless.” “You see fit to contradict me, to tell me how a king should act!” snapped Shinga. “I am a strong king and that makes me a good king! I know how things must be done. And kindness has no place in that.” Now Tira was wise, and she knew not to challenge Shinga too far. So she lowered her eyes and fell silent, for that was the order of things. But in her heart Tira knew that Shinga was wrong. She was sure that Husimba could be a strong leader despite being gentle and kind; perhaps a better leader because he was gentle and kind. As the unofficial leader of the lionesses, she had watched the pride and its members for many years, and she was sure that kindness had a key role to play in its leadership. While she knew that Shinga always believed he was acting in the best interests of the pride – and she respected him for that – she had seen how the others reacted to his forceful domination, usually with obedience, but almost always with fear and often with resentment. If there was a genuine challenge for the leadership, she wondered how many of the pride would back Shinga. We can show our anger or our disappointment when another does wrong, she thought, but when we’re unkind, when we humiliate or disparage another, they’ll most likely become defensive. Then their thoughts will probably go to their dislike of us, rather than to an acceptance and understanding of what they’ve done wrong. And they’ll learn nothing from the experience. The role of the pride’s leader, Tira believed, included being a teacher, a guide, and a mentor. And surely no-one would want to learn from someone who was unkind? No, she thought. It’s better, for a leader to be kind even when they have to be tough.