The humid air hung heavy among the ancient stone pillars of the forest surrounding Angkor Wat. It was just before dawn — the kind of still, wet morning when birds stir softly and dew clings to jungle vines. I was there, camera in hand, hoping to catch monkeys going about their daily routine. I never imagined I would witness something that would stay with me for a lifetime
Suddenly, I heard a cry — not the playful chatter I’d expected, but a raw, urgent cry that pierced the silence. I turned toward a thicket and froze. There, lying motionless on the mossy forest floor, was a tiny baby monkey. Its limbs were limp, its chest barely rising. Nearby stood its mother — a slender monkey I’ve grown to know as Malika, one of the forest’s frequent wanderers. Her eyes were wide with panic. She touched the baby gently, trembling, as if trying to will it back to life.
For what felt like an eternity — though in truth, only seconds — Malika sat there, holding her baby close, whispering in a voice only the forest could hear. I cannot describe the raw desperation in her eyes: the fear that her child might be gone, the frantic hope that maybe, just maybe, the baby would breathe again.
I raised my camera, but I hesitated. Could I record this? Would it disrespect grief? In that moment, I simply watched.
Then — a miracle: the tiny chest stirred. One shallow breath. Then another. Malika stiffened. A full exhale. Relief flooded her eyes. She hugged the baby tightly against her chest, rocking it gently, as tears — or something like tears — seemed to glisten in her eyes.
Tears ran down my own cheeks. I realized in that instant, I wasn’t just watching an animal’s instinct. I was witnessing a mother’s love — wild, primal, universal.
I slowly pressed record. The video shows Malika cradling her baby, softly calling to it, until it stirred and weakly grasped at her fur. Slowly, she lifted it up and nuzzled it — the baby clung to her as though lifelines had been restored.
When I posted the footage on social media, I expected curiosity. Instead — I got an outpouring. Messages from strangers across the world saying how the moment made them cry. Some shared memories of their own children, or the vulnerability they once felt. A few wrote: “This just proves: motherhood is the same everywhere.” Others admitted they had never thought monkeys felt so deeply.
I believe what touches people is this: in a forest temple, under ancient stones and jungle canopy, a small monkey and her child reminded us that love — raw, fierce, and sacred — doesn’t belong only to humans. It belongs to every creature capable of caring.
If you watch the video, I hope you see more than just fur and forest. I hope you feel the weight of that breath — the moment between life and loss — and understand that this world is full of stories we still don’t know.
Below, I’ve left space for the video I captured, and a photograph from that dawn — Malika holding her baby, as fragile and powerful as hope itself.
