Olu’s First Lesson

Olu’s First Lesson – Learning to Trust the Herd

The golden sun hung low over the African savanna, casting long shadows across the land as a soft evening breeze rustled through the tall grasses. Among a herd of wise and gentle elephants, a young calf named Olu stayed close to his mother’s side, his small trunk swaying uncertainly with each step. The world still felt so big to him, filled with new scents, sounds, and mysteries waiting to be unraveled.

As the herd marched toward the river, dark clouds began to gather on the horizon. Olu’s ears twitched at the distant rumble of thunder. He had never seen a storm before, and as the wind picked up and the sky dimmed, an uneasy feeling crept into his heart.

The first droplets of rain splattered onto his back, cool against his warm skin. Then, a flash of light split the sky, followed by a deep, rolling growl that made the earth tremble beneath his feet. Olu froze. His heart pounded, and he instinctively reached out with his trunk, seeking comfort.

Sensing his fear, his mother, Mama Temi, gently curled her trunk around his. “Stay close, my little one,” she murmured. “We are safe together.”

Olu looked up at her, searching for signs of worry, but she remained calm, her large ears flapping gently in the cooling air. Around them, the rest of the herd showed no fear. The older elephants continued walking, their steady presence unshaken by the storm. A great-aunt hummed a low, soothing rumble, and an elder bull flared his ears, scanning the horizon with quiet confidence.

“Why is no one afraid?” Olu asked, his voice small.

Mama Temi smiled. “Because we trust one another, and we trust the land. The storm will pass, just like the night always gives way to the morning. But together, we stand strong.”

Another crack of thunder rumbled across the sky, but this time, Olu didn’t flinch. He pressed his small body against his mother’s side, feeling the warmth of her skin, the steady rise and fall of her breath. He closed his eyes for a moment and listened—not just to the storm, but to the comforting rumbles of his family, the rustling leaves, the rhythm of the rain against the earth.

The fear inside him softened. He was not alone. He never would be.

As the herd reached the river, the rain eased into a gentle drizzle, and a faint glow of light peeked through the clouds. The world smelled fresh and new, cleansed by the passing storm. Olu lifted his trunk, tasting the air, and let out a small, happy trumpet.

Mama Temi chuckled. “See? The storm has passed, and you are braver than you were before.”

Olu beamed, standing a little taller. He had learned his first lesson—trust in his family, trust in the land, and trust that even the strongest storms will pass.

As he splashed into the river with the other calves, the storm already felt like a distant memory, replaced by the joy of cool water and the laughter of his herd. And in his heart, a small but mighty seed of wisdom had begun to grow.