The story begins under a gray sky in the early morning, deep within the forest edge where a group of monkeys settled for the day. Among them was a mother monkey, tense and restless. She had just given birth a few days earlier to a tiny baby girl with soft, golden-brown fur and big round eyes.
Her name would later be known as Nina.
But something wasnāt right.
Ninaās mother didnāt groom her. She rarely let the baby cling to her for long. Instead of warmth and protection, Nina was met with cold rejection. When she cried, her mother moved away. When she tried to nurse, she was pushed aside.
It was clear: Nina was not wanted.
At just 5 days old, Nina found herself lying alone on the forest floor ā her tiny body curled up, shivering, her cries growing weaker as the troop moved on.
She had been abandoned.
š The Sound of a Cry No One Answered
Observers from a nearby wildlife rescue team watched helplessly as Nina was left behind. Her calls echoed through the trees ā high-pitched, soft, and desperate. One of the rescuers said it was like listening to a newborn baby cry in an empty house: you could feel the loneliness in every sound.
Some juveniles came near and sniffed her, but none dared intervene. And thenā¦
From deep within the shadows, a large, dominant male monkey appeared. He wasnāt from Ninaās troop. In fact, he had a reputation.
His name was Bako.
Known for violent displays and erratic behavior, Bako had often been seen attacking weaker monkeys and stealing food. And now, he had spotted Nina ā alone, helpless, and abandoned.
He walked slowly toward her.
She didnāt run. She didnāt even move.
She was too tiredā¦ and still waiting for her mother to return.
š Takenā¦ But Not for Safety
Bako scooped Nina up roughly, gripping her by one arm and dragging her toward the dense foliage.
She squeaked ā a pitiful, heartbreaking sound.
It wasn’t the grip of a mother. It was control.
He didnāt groom her. He didnāt protect her. He carried her like stolen property, his grip tight and possessive. Heād taken abandoned babies before ā not to raise them, but to show dominance, to use them as pawns to ward off other monkeys.
Rescuers followed from a distance, their hands shaking, eyes wet. They had seen similar situations ā and they knew the odds of Nina surviving in his care were slim.
But they hoped. Prayed. Waited for a chance to intervene.
š Still Crying for Her Real Mom
As Bako paused to sit on a fallen tree, Nina clung to his chestānot by choice, but by instinct. Her tiny body pressed against fur that offered no comfort. She turned her head often, looking around, searching. Hoping.
Still waiting.
One of the rescuers whispered: āShe still thinks her mom might come back.ā
For nearly a full day, Nina remained in Bakoās grip. She cried. She curled up. She even tried to latch onto him, only to be swatted away.
At one point, she lifted her tiny hand toward the sky, as if reaching for someone who was no longer there.
š A Chance for Rescue
That night, under the cover of darkness, Bako made a rare move ā he left Nina sleeping in a tree fork while he moved off to challenge another male. It was the moment the rescuers had been waiting for.
With precision and care, they reached Nina just before dawn.
She was barely responsive, dehydrated, and weak. But when one of the caretakers wrapped her in a warm towel and gently rocked her, she sighed ā a sound of surrender, but also relief.
She was safe now.
š From Trauma to Tenderness
Today, Nina is recovering in a protected wildlife care center. She drinks warm formula, wears tiny blankets, and finally gets the cuddles she so desperately craved. Volunteers call her āthe warrior babyā ā not because she fought back, but because she endured the pain of being unwanted, stolen, and aloneā¦ and still survived.
She is learning to trust. To play. To feel love again.