Every Beginning Has a Story

bana is a growing world of baby animals, each one carrying a story worth knowing.
One mechanical pencil. No eraser. Please enjoy.

Created by Lebo Tladi.

The Collection: From Graphite to Soul ✏️

Click to enlarge ・ Swipe to explore

Like life itself, each piece begins with a quiet foundation. Every animal in this series is born from a pencil study, first taking shape through the precision of one mechanical pencil. Before colour adds its depth and warmth, these portraits find their identity in the simple honesty of line and detail.Please come back to this page to see the collection grow over time.

Stories About The Animals
📖

Behind every baby animal is a story.Some come from childhood memories, others from moments that changed how I see the world.
Explore the stories below to discover the inspiration and personal meaning behind each one.

Regardless of our age, gender, nationality, or any of our human differences, I believe we can all agree that the innocence and expressive eyes of baby animals create a warm and approachable emotional connection that resonates with all of us. Each piece in this series celebrates that universal charm. I've been enjoying the process of creating these detailed drawings of baby animals using just one simple tool—a mechanical pencil—and without an eraser. I love how it challenges me to capture the essence of these animals with precision and focus. Along with each piece, I'll also share a personal story about why these animals are close to my heart—some from personal experiences, others from how I've come to see the world through them.

The first piece is this baby giraffe. Being from South Africa, I was very fortunate to see many giraffes in my life. They've always fascinated me with their quiet elegance and peaceful presence. Despite their towering height, they move with such grace and calm. I often think about how they reach for the highest branches with such ease, which inspires me to keep reaching for my own goals, no matter how high they might seem.

Stay tuned as I share more stories and animals from Young Ones, each one holding a special place in my heart 🌱 🦒
There's something truly magical about baby elephants. They're like little geniuses wrapped in clumsy, oversized bodies. I remember watching one young calf stumble around, swinging its trunk as if it hadn't quite figured out how to control it yet. It tried to charge a bird, only to trip over its own feet, landing in a heap. But you could tell—it wasn't embarrassed. It popped right back up, flapping its ears with this mischievous confidence, as if to say, "I meant to do that!"

What I love most about baby elephants is that they seem to know just how smart they are. They watch everything, learning from the older elephants in the herd—how to find water, use branches to swat away flies, and navigate their vast, wild world. You can see it in their playful antics: every game is a lesson in disguise, teaching them how to solve problems and make sense of their surroundings.

But even with all that intelligence, baby elephants are still adorably awkward. They run too fast for their legs, bump into each other, and fumble with their trunks. It's this mix of brilliance and goofiness that makes them so special to me. They remind me that life doesn't have to be perfect to be beautiful. Even the smartest ones among us trip sometimes—and that's perfectly okay 🐘 🧠 ✏️ 🐘
When I was 16, a baby monkey stole my grapes during a hike in South Africa.

Ever since, I've had a soft spot for adorable baby monkeys, making this drawing especially meaningful to me 🐒 🍇 ✏️ 🐒
The lion holds a deeply personal meaning for me. In South Africa, where I come from, many tribes' families and clans have totem animals that represent their identity, values, and heritage. For my family, as part of the Pedi people, the lion is our totem. It symbolises strength, leadership, and courage. Growing up, lions were everywhere in my parents' home—statues, sculptures, paintings. My favourite toy was also a big plush stuffed lion that I took with me everywhere. It was impossible not to feel a profound connection to this majestic animal.

So, when I decided to create "bana", this series of baby animals, I knew from the start that I had to include a baby lion. Leaving it out would've felt like a cardinal sin—a betrayal, as if I'd forgotten a part of who I am. To me, lions are more than just symbols of power; they represent family, loyalty, and resilience. And baby lions, in particular, remind me of the early journey we all take in life—clumsy yet fearless, learning what it means to carry the weight of something greater than ourselves.

This little lion cub I drew is a tribute not only to my heritage but to the idea that even the smallest among us can grow into something mighty. It carries with it the spirit of my ancestors and the values that have been passed down to me 🦁 ♌ ✏️ ♌ 🦁
Baby tigers have always been one of my favourite animals. Unlike some of the other animals in this series, I've never had the chance to see a tiger in the wild. Strangely, though, tigers are animals that often appear in my dreams, and I've never really known what to make of it. It's as if they live in both the real world and somewhere deeper, beyond reach, adding to the sense of mystery and allure they hold for me.

There's something both thrilling and humbling about admiring a creature so powerful yet untouchable, knowing it belongs to a world far beyond my own. Drawing this little tiger cub felt like trying to capture just a glimpse of that wild spirit—a playful force that demands respect, even at its smallest 🐅 ✏️ 🐅
Cheetahs have always held a special place in my heart as the friendliest of the big cats. Unlike the other wild cats, there's something warm and inviting about them. When I first heard a cheetah's call on safari, I was stunned—it was a cute, almost chirpy sound. I expected a roar but was met with a reminder of their gentler nature instead. Such a gentle, friendly sound for an animal built to chase down the fastest prey.

This little cheetah cub is my tribute to that softer side of the wild—gentle yet strong, incredibly fast yet friendly. Sometimes, strength is found in the quietest of voices 🐆 ✏️ 🐆
Pangolins have always held a special place in my heart. They're not very well-known here in Japan, but in South Africa, they exist, and I was lucky enough to see one in the wild. I'll never forget that moment—I was completely blown away by its unique beauty.

As someone who's loved animals for as long as I can remember, I've always been intrigued by the pangolin. What makes it even more special to me is its heartbreaking vulnerability. Pangolins are considered to be the most trafficked mammals in the world, yet so few people know they even exist.

Through this drawing, I wanted to capture the pangolin's delicate beauty and share its story with more people. I hope to highlight both its uniqueness and its plight, so we can all work to protect this incredible animal and its future 🐾 ✏️ 🤎 ✏️ 🐾
Lesser pandas (red pandas) may not be part of my childhood memories back home in South Africa, but the first time I saw one in Japan, it left a lasting impression on me. It happened during a visit to Adventure World. And there it was, this small, fluffy creature with big, curious eyes and a striped tail, moving about as if exploring the world with wonder.

If I could somehow have a wild animal as a pet, I always imagined a lesser panda would be at the top of my list. It's easy to see why: they're endlessly adorable, playful, curious about everything, and have a very gentle nature.

Through this drawing, I wanted to capture that same feeling I had when I first saw one—its charm, its curiosity, and its ability to make me smile 🐾 ✏️ 🐼 ✏️ 🐾
I remember the first time I saw an axolotl here in Japan; I was mesmerised. I would encounter them every Thursday at my workplace. This strange creature, with its feathery gills and ever-present smile, looked like something from another world. Encountering one felt like discovering a whole new species I never knew existed.

The more I learned about them, the more fascinated I became. Axolotls never outgrow their juvenile form, living their entire lives in this delicate, almost baby-like state. They seemed so fragile yet so confident in their oddity, content in simply existing as they are. I found myself strangely connected to this tiny aquatic being.

Growing up, I often felt like the odd one out too. I was the kid who stood on the edges, the quiet observer who saw the world a little differently. I didn't always fit into the spaces I was placed in, and much like the axolotl, I felt both curious and isolated. But instead of letting that difference feel like a weakness, I've come to see it as a quiet strength—just like the axolotl.

Drawing this baby axolotl felt like drawing a piece of my younger self: vulnerable yet unashamed, different yet beautiful in its own right. I wanted to capture not just its unique physical features but the quiet resilience it represents—reminding us that it's okay to be different, to be gentle, to embrace what sets us apart. Sometimes, the most unusual creatures have the most powerful lessons to teach us.

꒰(˶• ᴗ •˶)꒱ ≽(◕ ᴗ ◕)≼
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Owls hold a special place in my heart, tied to the holidays when I visited home. During those visits, I loved swimming at night, long after everyone else was asleep. Next to the pool stood a massive tree—a silent guardian of our garden. From that tree emerged an owl with piercing orange eyes. Usually, when I swam, it would fly to the roof's highest point, watching me in the stillness of the darkness. I always wondered why.

Did it think I couldn't see it? Or was it protecting me? Its presence felt magical. My parents knew about the owl too and appreciated it for keeping the garden free of mice and snakes.

For me, owls became a symbol of quiet strength and mystery. This baby owl is my tribute to those memories and the bond my family shared with the owl in our tree 🦉 🏊🏾‍♂️ 🌳 ✏️ 🦉 🏊🏾‍♂️ 🌳
Zebras have always just been there: striped and steady, quietly grazing in the background of my childhood. Growing up in South Africa, they were so common that I barely gave them a second thought. I'd see them on road trips, in storybooks, on postcards.

In some residential estates, especially those near the bush, herbivores like zebras and antelope roam freely. I remember visiting friends and seeing zebras casually walking through the neighbourhood—sometimes even coming right up to the garden. They felt like part of the scenery. Familiar. Ordinary.

One day in a safari park, I witnessed something I'd never seen before: a baby zebra being born. Its legs trembled as it tried to stand, wobbling under its own weight. The mother stood nearby, still and calm, offering quiet encouragement. There was something so raw and pure in that moment—something fragile and strong all at once. It was the first time I'd seen a zebra being born, and it made me pause to appreciate the beauty of new life.

This drawing is a tribute to that shift in perspective—to the beauty of things we take for granted, and to the quiet magic of beginnings. Sometimes the most extraordinary things are the ones we've stopped noticing 🦓 🖤 🫶🏾 🤍 🦓
Rhinos have always felt like giants to me. They're solid, ancient, and strangely gentle. In South Africa, they're not just animals; they're part of our national identity. They appear on our money, and they're one of the famous Big Five—the top five animals people hope to see on safari.

South Africa is home to the largest rhino population in the world, so I was lucky to see both black and white rhinos many times growing up. But when I started high school, rhino poaching was on the rise. I remember hearing more and more stories about poachers cutting off their horns to sell in countries like China and Vietnam, where the horn is used in traditional medicine. It was heartbreaking.

Rhinos are special to South Africans—not just because they're rare or powerful, but because they're vulnerable. They're killed for just one part of their body, a horn that doesn't define who they are.

Whenever I saw a baby rhino walking close beside its mother, I'd feel a quiet sadness. That small, strong creature—still learning to navigate the world—might one day face the same threat. This drawing is not just a celebration of how beautiful and tough baby rhinos are. It's also a reminder that their future is not guaranteed 🦏 😔 🦏
Tapirs aren't native to my home country, so I never saw one growing up in South Africa. The first time I encountered one was in Japan, at Adventure World. I remember being immediately struck by how unusual they looked—almost like a mix between a pig, an elephant, and something else entirely. A few of my friends really loved them, which made me curious enough to do some research.

That's when I learned about the baku, a creature from Japanese mythology said to eat bad dreams. I found that fascinating, especially because I almost never have nightmares. I dream often, almost every night, and most of my dreams are good ones. I wondered: would a tapir even want to eat mine?

While researching them, I also came across baby Malayan tapirs. They were so cute—like little watermelons with legs and a trunk. I couldn't stop looking at them.

I came to think of the baby tapir not just as a gentle protector, but as a symbol that brings peace to those haunted by their dreams. Not because it chases away darkness, but because it exists even when the darkness doesn't come ✨ 😴 ✨
Growing up in South Africa, I often saw Cape fur seals lounging near the harbour whenever I visited Cape Town. They were playful, with a kind of confident energy that made them feel completely at home in the ocean and on the docks. Over time, they became familiar to me.

So when I saw a California sea lion for the first time at Adventure World in Japan, it caught me off guard. It looked similar to the seals I knew, but also very different—sleek, elegant, and somehow more theatrical.

I hadn't planned to draw a sea lion. But then I saw the baby that had been born at Adventure World, and I started watching it closely—how it swam, how it would sometimes glide right up to the glass and play around me while I stood there watching. There was something so cute and magical about it, like it was inviting me to notice it, to really see it 🦭 🥹 🦭
When I first met Hacchi at Adventure World, he was lying quietly on a log, sleeping peacefully. At first glance, it looked like he was simply enjoying his slow and relaxed sloth life. But then I learned about his story—the day after he was born, his mother sadly passed away, and Hacchi has been raised by humans ever since.

That touched me deeply. To lose his mother immediately after birth, and yet to still be here, growing and living, makes him incredibly precious. I wanted to pay tribute to him through this drawing.

Every time I would visit him, I see him sleeping or moving ever so slowly, as sloths do. And that always reminds me of something important: sloths embody a way of life that is calm, unhurried, and at peace. In our busy human lives, I think we can learn something from them—to take a break, to slow down, and to rest without guilt 🦥 🌳 🦥
Whenever I visited Cape Town in South Africa, I was always happy to see the Cape penguins at Boulders Beach. People in Japan often ask me if South Africa has four seasons, and when I say yes, I also explain that it even gets cold enough to have penguins in Cape Town. They're always surprised—because most people think penguins only live in icy places. The Cape penguins are adorable, but for me, the cutest penguin chicks in the world are the emperor penguins.

That is why I chose to draw this baby emperor penguin. I often see them at aquariums here in Japan, and every time, I'm reminded of how special they are. Born in the coldest places on Earth, they survive through the warmth of family and community. Their soft feathers and curious eyes remind us that even in harsh conditions, life continues with resilience and hope.

This baby emperor penguin is both a memory of home and a reflection of life's strength and beauty 🐧 💛 ❄ 💛 🐧
The first truly magical moment I had with dolphins was in 2021, visiting Taiji Town. It was a crisp winter day, but the water felt surprisingly warm. I went kayaking with friends, guided by kind instructors who let us meet the dolphins up close.

A group of dolphins from nearby approached us, leaping and playing around us with effortless grace. Playful, elegant, alive—they felt like acrobats of the ocean, intelligent and full of life.

I've always admired dolphins for their agility and intelligence, but that day made me feel something deeper. Watching them interact, I sensed the joy of curiosity, the thrill of freedom, and the simple happiness of being fully alive.

Drawing this baby dolphin, I wanted to capture not just its sleek, joyful form, but the spirit of wonder it represents—playfulness and freedom that remind us to move through life with curiosity and lightness 🐬 🚣🏾‍♂️ 💙 🚣🏾‍♂️ 🐬
We don't have bears in South Africa, but growing up, the idea of one always carried weight. I went to an all-boys school, where being strong was everything. Gym was life. Everyone wanted to be the strongest, the fastest, the toughest. And for us, the bear became the ultimate symbol of that kind of strength—untouchable, wild, and terrifying.

Of course, none of us had ever seen one in the wild. But the way we imagined it—a creature with muscle beneath fur, moving through the forest like a force of nature—stayed with me. Even now, when I think of strength, I think of the bear.

But what I didn't know back then was that bears are more than just strong. They hibernate, they parent, they forage. They can be gentle and slow, even tender. That's a kind of strength too: the strength to rest, to care, to be still.

Maybe that's why I chose to draw a baby bear: not to show the power we always imagined, but the softness we never talked about 🐻 🤎 🐻
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From The Studio 👀

Sneak peeks into the studio as the artworks come to life.

This collage captures small moments from the studio while the drawings are still taking shape. You’ll see a mix of studio snapshots and close‑ups of the artworks in progress, revealing the early phases before each baby animal is complete.Together, these images offer a glimpse into the creative process—the slow, patient way each line builds toward a living form.

Born From Pure Wonder 🐾

bana (ba·na) — children, in Pedi, Sotho & Tswana

bana, meaning "children" in the South African languages of Sepedi, Sesotho, and Tswana, celebrates the innocence and emotional power of baby animals.No matter your age, background, or nationality, there's something universally touching about a baby animal's gaze. One that has a way of softening us all.This world of baby animals invites you to connect with that shared humanity — to feel the life, warmth, and emotion behind the eyes looking back at you.

About The Artist 🎨

Lebo Tladi was born in South Africa in 1994 and grew up surrounded by nature, animals, and a curiosity about the world that never left him. From a young age, he developed a precise, detail‑driven approach to art and design that runs through everything he creates.Raised near the African bush, with safari woven into his earliest memories, Lebo developed a deep connection to wildlife. Animals have always been a reminder of what we all share as living beings on the same earth.Today, Lebo lives in Japan, and it is here that bana took shape.
Living between two worlds, he found that animals were the one language that needed no translation. The warmth a baby animal stirs in you is the same in Pretoria as it is in Tōkyō.All the animals in this series are drawn entirely with a beautiful mechanical pencil.
No eraser, no revisions. Each line is committed to fully — honest, present, and vibrantly alive.

Out in the World 🌍

Exhibitions. Collaborations. Special projects.

This is where bana ventures out into the world.
A growing space for exhibitions, partnerships, and projects that go beyond the collection.
Check back to see this page grow over time.

Click the picture below to learn more.

bophelo exhibition 🖼️

Adventure World x Lebo Tladi

04 Sep. 2025 — 30 Nov. 2025
Adventure World, Shirahama, Japan

Welcome to bophelo—a word that means “life” in Sepedi, Sotho, and Tswana, three of South Africa’s 11 official languages.
It is meaningful to launch bophelo at Adventure World, a place where life is cherished, nurtured, and observed with deep care.Adventure World’s message—"a place to reflect on the beauty of life"—aligns beautifully with the mission of this exhibition. More than just a theme park, Adventure World brings people closer to the magic of nature and the value of living things. It’s a place where humans and animals coexist in a shared celebration of life, and I feel deeply honoured to exhibit my work here.

Click to enlarge ・ Swipe to explore

The Adventure World exhibition was truly something special. Meeting so many people who were moved and blown away by the works and the stories behind them, visitors from across Japan and beyond, was an experience I will never forget. The show received wonderful coverage, and seeing people connect with each baby animal on such a personal level made every line drawn worthwhile.One of the highlights of the exhibition was a collaborative artwork featuring a baby otter. Visitors voted for one of four animals to decide which one I would draw, and the otter won. Everyone who came to the show then had the chance to draw and colour in around the baby otter, making the artwork truly a collective creation. The finished piece was entered into a raffle, with one lucky winner from Tōkyō winning the artwork.The warm reception, the conversations, and the merchandise finding new homes — it all felt like a great honour. I am deeply grateful to Adventure World for hosting this exhibition and for giving bana its first chapter in the world. I hope you enjoyed the pictures. The next chapter is already taking shape — stay tuned.

NHK Feature
Walkabout

Thank you for having a look.Please stay tuned for the next exhibition and collaboration.

Young Ones Exhibition 🖼️

bana x Hashigui ICO

04 Sep. 2026 — 05 Oct. 2026
Hashigui ICO, Kushimoto, Japan

How This Exhibition Came to Be

For those who don't know me, I'm Lebo.I lived in Kushimoto from 2019 until August 2024, making it the first town I called home when I came to Japan from South Africa. In many ways, it still feels like my hometown here. Over those five years, I met so many wonderful people, ate more delicious food than I could possibly remember, and found all the little places that make Kushimoto special. MXSDOT became one of those places for me.I've always loved the atmosphere here. The owner is a genuinely good guy, and everyone who works here has always been so kind and welcoming. So when the opportunity came to hold an exhibition here, it felt like a particularly meaningful place to bring this work. And honestly, enjoying a nice tapioca drink while looking at baby animals is a pretty great way to spend some time.The story actually started a little earlier. After my previous exhibition in Kushimoto, the head chef at In the Outdoor in Hikigawa visited and really enjoyed the work. Together with the owner of In the Outdoor, he reached out and asked if I would consider holding an exhibition at their café, MXSDOT, here at Hashigui ICO.At the time, I had already been thinking about creating an exhibition centred around baby animals. There is something special about them. No matter who you are, where you come from, or what language you speak, there is something about baby animals that we seem to understand instinctively. They make us want to care for them, and remind us of the softer, more curious side of ourselves.So I suggested a baby animals exhibition, and Naomi-san, the lovely manager here at Hashigui ICO, immediately said she thought it would be perfect.Not long after that, I was given the opportunity to exhibit the collection at Adventure World. That became an important first step for me in launching bana and sharing the baby animals world with a much bigger audience. But Kushimoto never really left me. I lived here for five years, made friends here, found favourite places here, and became part of a community that means a lot to me. So when the time felt right, I wanted to bring this work back to the place where so much of my journey in Japan began. And that's how this exhibition came to be.I hope that if you're reading this while visiting the exhibition, you enjoy the show, discover something new about the animals, and perhaps leave with a little something to think about.A small note: due to space constraints, I'm not able to display the colour versions of the artworks here. The originals on the walls are in black and white, and I think they're beautiful just as they are. But if you'd like to see the colour versions, please scroll down. You'll also find more about me, my practice, and the bana brand as a whole.Thank you so much for being here today.
— Lebo —

The Collection: From Graphite to Soul ✏️

Click to enlarge ・ Swipe to explore

Like life itself, each piece begins with a quiet foundation. Every animal in this series is born from a pencil study, first taking shape through the precision of one mechanical pencil. Before colour adds its depth and warmth, these portraits find their identity in the simple honesty of line and detail.Please come back to this page to see the collection grow over time.

Stories About The Animals
📖

Behind every baby animal is a story.Some come from childhood memories, others from moments that changed how I see the world.
Explore the stories below to discover the inspiration and personal meaning behind each one.

Regardless of our age, gender, nationality, or any of our human differences, I believe we can all agree that the innocence and expressive eyes of baby animals create a warm and approachable emotional connection that resonates with all of us. Each piece in this series celebrates that universal charm. I've been enjoying the process of creating these detailed drawings of baby animals using just one simple tool—a mechanical pencil—and without an eraser. I love how it challenges me to capture the essence of these animals with precision and focus. Along with each piece, I'll also share a personal story about why these animals are close to my heart—some from personal experiences, others from how I've come to see the world through them.

The first piece is this baby giraffe. Being from South Africa, I was very fortunate to see many giraffes in my life. They've always fascinated me with their quiet elegance and peaceful presence. Despite their towering height, they move with such grace and calm. I often think about how they reach for the highest branches with such ease, which inspires me to keep reaching for my own goals, no matter how high they might seem.

Stay tuned as I share more stories and animals from Young Ones, each one holding a special place in my heart 🌱 🦒
There's something truly magical about baby elephants. They're like little geniuses wrapped in clumsy, oversized bodies. I remember watching one young calf stumble around, swinging its trunk as if it hadn't quite figured out how to control it yet. It tried to charge a bird, only to trip over its own feet, landing in a heap. But you could tell—it wasn't embarrassed. It popped right back up, flapping its ears with this mischievous confidence, as if to say, "I meant to do that!"

What I love most about baby elephants is that they seem to know just how smart they are. They watch everything, learning from the older elephants in the herd—how to find water, use branches to swat away flies, and navigate their vast, wild world. You can see it in their playful antics: every game is a lesson in disguise, teaching them how to solve problems and make sense of their surroundings.

But even with all that intelligence, baby elephants are still adorably awkward. They run too fast for their legs, bump into each other, and fumble with their trunks. It's this mix of brilliance and goofiness that makes them so special to me. They remind me that life doesn't have to be perfect to be beautiful. Even the smartest ones among us trip sometimes—and that's perfectly okay 🐘 🧠 ✏️ 🐘
When I was 16, a baby monkey stole my grapes during a hike in South Africa.

Ever since, I've had a soft spot for adorable baby monkeys, making this drawing especially meaningful to me 🐒 🍇 ✏️ 🐒
The lion holds a deeply personal meaning for me. In South Africa, where I come from, many tribes' families and clans have totem animals that represent their identity, values, and heritage. For my family, as part of the Pedi people, the lion is our totem. It symbolises strength, leadership, and courage. Growing up, lions were everywhere in my parents' home—statues, sculptures, paintings. My favourite toy was also a big plush stuffed lion that I took with me everywhere. It was impossible not to feel a profound connection to this majestic animal.

So, when I decided to create "bana", this series of baby animals, I knew from the start that I had to include a baby lion. Leaving it out would've felt like a cardinal sin—a betrayal, as if I'd forgotten a part of who I am. To me, lions are more than just symbols of power; they represent family, loyalty, and resilience. And baby lions, in particular, remind me of the early journey we all take in life—clumsy yet fearless, learning what it means to carry the weight of something greater than ourselves.

This little lion cub I drew is a tribute not only to my heritage but to the idea that even the smallest among us can grow into something mighty. It carries with it the spirit of my ancestors and the values that have been passed down to me 🦁 ♌ ✏️ ♌ 🦁
Baby tigers have always been one of my favourite animals. Unlike some of the other animals in this series, I've never had the chance to see a tiger in the wild. Strangely, though, tigers are animals that often appear in my dreams, and I've never really known what to make of it. It's as if they live in both the real world and somewhere deeper, beyond reach, adding to the sense of mystery and allure they hold for me.

There's something both thrilling and humbling about admiring a creature so powerful yet untouchable, knowing it belongs to a world far beyond my own. Drawing this little tiger cub felt like trying to capture just a glimpse of that wild spirit—a playful force that demands respect, even at its smallest 🐅 ✏️ 🐅
Cheetahs have always held a special place in my heart as the friendliest of the big cats. Unlike the other wild cats, there's something warm and inviting about them. When I first heard a cheetah's call on safari, I was stunned—it was a cute, almost chirpy sound. I expected a roar but was met with a reminder of their gentler nature instead. Such a gentle, friendly sound for an animal built to chase down the fastest prey.

This little cheetah cub is my tribute to that softer side of the wild—gentle yet strong, incredibly fast yet friendly. Sometimes, strength is found in the quietest of voices 🐆 ✏️ 🐆
Pangolins have always held a special place in my heart. They're not very well-known here in Japan, but in South Africa, they exist, and I was lucky enough to see one in the wild. I'll never forget that moment—I was completely blown away by its unique beauty.

As someone who's loved animals for as long as I can remember, I've always been intrigued by the pangolin. What makes it even more special to me is its heartbreaking vulnerability. Pangolins are considered to be the most trafficked mammals in the world, yet so few people know they even exist.

Through this drawing, I wanted to capture the pangolin's delicate beauty and share its story with more people. I hope to highlight both its uniqueness and its plight, so we can all work to protect this incredible animal and its future 🐾 ✏️ 🤎 ✏️ 🐾
Lesser pandas (red pandas) may not be part of my childhood memories back home in South Africa, but the first time I saw one in Japan, it left a lasting impression on me. It happened during a visit to Adventure World. And there it was, this small, fluffy creature with big, curious eyes and a striped tail, moving about as if exploring the world with wonder.

If I could somehow have a wild animal as a pet, I always imagined a lesser panda would be at the top of my list. It's easy to see why: they're endlessly adorable, playful, curious about everything, and have a very gentle nature.

Through this drawing, I wanted to capture that same feeling I had when I first saw one—its charm, its curiosity, and its ability to make me smile 🐾 ✏️ 🐼 ✏️ 🐾
I remember the first time I saw an axolotl here in Japan; I was mesmerised. I would encounter them every Thursday at my workplace. This strange creature, with its feathery gills and ever-present smile, looked like something from another world. Encountering one felt like discovering a whole new species I never knew existed.

The more I learned about them, the more fascinated I became. Axolotls never outgrow their juvenile form, living their entire lives in this delicate, almost baby-like state. They seemed so fragile yet so confident in their oddity, content in simply existing as they are. I found myself strangely connected to this tiny aquatic being.

Growing up, I often felt like the odd one out too. I was the kid who stood on the edges, the quiet observer who saw the world a little differently. I didn't always fit into the spaces I was placed in, and much like the axolotl, I felt both curious and isolated. But instead of letting that difference feel like a weakness, I've come to see it as a quiet strength—just like the axolotl.

Drawing this baby axolotl felt like drawing a piece of my younger self: vulnerable yet unashamed, different yet beautiful in its own right. I wanted to capture not just its unique physical features but the quiet resilience it represents—reminding us that it's okay to be different, to be gentle, to embrace what sets us apart. Sometimes, the most unusual creatures have the most powerful lessons to teach us.

꒰(˶• ᴗ •˶)꒱ ≽(◕ ᴗ ◕)≼
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Owls hold a special place in my heart, tied to the holidays when I visited home. During those visits, I loved swimming at night, long after everyone else was asleep. Next to the pool stood a massive tree—a silent guardian of our garden. From that tree emerged an owl with piercing orange eyes. Usually, when I swam, it would fly to the roof's highest point, watching me in the stillness of the darkness. I always wondered why.

Did it think I couldn't see it? Or was it protecting me? Its presence felt magical. My parents knew about the owl too and appreciated it for keeping the garden free of mice and snakes.

For me, owls became a symbol of quiet strength and mystery. This baby owl is my tribute to those memories and the bond my family shared with the owl in our tree 🦉 🏊🏾‍♂️ 🌳 ✏️ 🦉 🏊🏾‍♂️ 🌳
Zebras have always just been there: striped and steady, quietly grazing in the background of my childhood. Growing up in South Africa, they were so common that I barely gave them a second thought. I'd see them on road trips, in storybooks, on postcards.

In some residential estates, especially those near the bush, herbivores like zebras and antelope roam freely. I remember visiting friends and seeing zebras casually walking through the neighbourhood—sometimes even coming right up to the garden. They felt like part of the scenery. Familiar. Ordinary.

One day in a safari park, I witnessed something I'd never seen before: a baby zebra being born. Its legs trembled as it tried to stand, wobbling under its own weight. The mother stood nearby, still and calm, offering quiet encouragement. There was something so raw and pure in that moment—something fragile and strong all at once. It was the first time I'd seen a zebra being born, and it made me pause to appreciate the beauty of new life.

This drawing is a tribute to that shift in perspective—to the beauty of things we take for granted, and to the quiet magic of beginnings. Sometimes the most extraordinary things are the ones we've stopped noticing 🦓 🖤 🫶🏾 🤍 🦓
Rhinos have always felt like giants to me. They're solid, ancient, and strangely gentle. In South Africa, they're not just animals; they're part of our national identity. They appear on our money, and they're one of the famous Big Five—the top five animals people hope to see on safari.

South Africa is home to the largest rhino population in the world, so I was lucky to see both black and white rhinos many times growing up. But when I started high school, rhino poaching was on the rise. I remember hearing more and more stories about poachers cutting off their horns to sell in countries like China and Vietnam, where the horn is used in traditional medicine. It was heartbreaking.

Rhinos are special to South Africans—not just because they're rare or powerful, but because they're vulnerable. They're killed for just one part of their body, a horn that doesn't define who they are.

Whenever I saw a baby rhino walking close beside its mother, I'd feel a quiet sadness. That small, strong creature—still learning to navigate the world—might one day face the same threat. This drawing is not just a celebration of how beautiful and tough baby rhinos are. It's also a reminder that their future is not guaranteed 🦏 😔 🦏
Tapirs aren't native to my home country, so I never saw one growing up in South Africa. The first time I encountered one was in Japan, at Adventure World. I remember being immediately struck by how unusual they looked—almost like a mix between a pig, an elephant, and something else entirely. A few of my friends really loved them, which made me curious enough to do some research.

That's when I learned about the baku, a creature from Japanese mythology said to eat bad dreams. I found that fascinating, especially because I almost never have nightmares. I dream often, almost every night, and most of my dreams are good ones. I wondered: would a tapir even want to eat mine?

While researching them, I also came across baby Malayan tapirs. They were so cute—like little watermelons with legs and a trunk. I couldn't stop looking at them.

I came to think of the baby tapir not just as a gentle protector, but as a symbol that brings peace to those haunted by their dreams. Not because it chases away darkness, but because it exists even when the darkness doesn't come ✨ 😴 ✨
Growing up in South Africa, I often saw Cape fur seals lounging near the harbour whenever I visited Cape Town. They were playful, with a kind of confident energy that made them feel completely at home in the ocean and on the docks. Over time, they became familiar to me.

So when I saw a California sea lion for the first time at Adventure World in Japan, it caught me off guard. It looked similar to the seals I knew, but also very different—sleek, elegant, and somehow more theatrical.

I hadn't planned to draw a sea lion. But then I saw the baby that had been born at Adventure World, and I started watching it closely—how it swam, how it would sometimes glide right up to the glass and play around me while I stood there watching. There was something so cute and magical about it, like it was inviting me to notice it, to really see it 🦭 🥹 🦭
When I first met Hacchi at Adventure World, he was lying quietly on a log, sleeping peacefully. At first glance, it looked like he was simply enjoying his slow and relaxed sloth life. But then I learned about his story—the day after he was born, his mother sadly passed away, and Hacchi has been raised by humans ever since.

That touched me deeply. To lose his mother immediately after birth, and yet to still be here, growing and living, makes him incredibly precious. I wanted to pay tribute to him through this drawing.

Every time I would visit him, I see him sleeping or moving ever so slowly, as sloths do. And that always reminds me of something important: sloths embody a way of life that is calm, unhurried, and at peace. In our busy human lives, I think we can learn something from them—to take a break, to slow down, and to rest without guilt 🦥 🌳 🦥
Whenever I visited Cape Town in South Africa, I was always happy to see the Cape penguins at Boulders Beach. People in Japan often ask me if South Africa has four seasons, and when I say yes, I also explain that it even gets cold enough to have penguins in Cape Town. They're always surprised—because most people think penguins only live in icy places. The Cape penguins are adorable, but for me, the cutest penguin chicks in the world are the emperor penguins.

That is why I chose to draw this baby emperor penguin. I often see them at aquariums here in Japan, and every time, I'm reminded of how special they are. Born in the coldest places on Earth, they survive through the warmth of family and community. Their soft feathers and curious eyes remind us that even in harsh conditions, life continues with resilience and hope.

This baby emperor penguin is both a memory of home and a reflection of life's strength and beauty 🐧 💛 ❄ 💛 🐧
The first truly magical moment I had with dolphins was in 2021, visiting Taiji Town. It was a crisp winter day, but the water felt surprisingly warm. I went kayaking with friends, guided by kind instructors who let us meet the dolphins up close.

A group of dolphins from nearby approached us, leaping and playing around us with effortless grace. Playful, elegant, alive—they felt like acrobats of the ocean, intelligent and full of life.

I've always admired dolphins for their agility and intelligence, but that day made me feel something deeper. Watching them interact, I sensed the joy of curiosity, the thrill of freedom, and the simple happiness of being fully alive.

Drawing this baby dolphin, I wanted to capture not just its sleek, joyful form, but the spirit of wonder it represents—playfulness and freedom that remind us to move through life with curiosity and lightness 🐬 🚣🏾‍♂️ 💙 🚣🏾‍♂️ 🐬
We don't have bears in South Africa, but growing up, the idea of one always carried weight. I went to an all-boys school, where being strong was everything. Gym was life. Everyone wanted to be the strongest, the fastest, the toughest. And for us, the bear became the ultimate symbol of that kind of strength—untouchable, wild, and terrifying.

Of course, none of us had ever seen one in the wild. But the way we imagined it—a creature with muscle beneath fur, moving through the forest like a force of nature—stayed with me. Even now, when I think of strength, I think of the bear.

But what I didn't know back then was that bears are more than just strong. They hibernate, they parent, they forage. They can be gentle and slow, even tender. That's a kind of strength too: the strength to rest, to care, to be still.

Maybe that's why I chose to draw a baby bear: not to show the power we always imagined, but the softness we never talked about 🐻 🤎 🐻
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From The Studio 👀

Sneak peeks into the studio as the artworks come to life.

This collage captures small moments from the studio while the drawings are still taking shape. You’ll see a mix of studio snapshots and close‑ups of the artworks in progress, revealing the early phases before each baby animal is complete.Together, these images offer a glimpse into the creative process—the slow, patient way each line builds toward a living form.

Born From Pure Wonder 🐾

bana (ba·na) — children, in Pedi, Sotho & Tswana

bana, meaning "children" in the South African languages of Sepedi, Sesotho, and Tswana, celebrates the innocence and emotional power of baby animals.No matter your age, background, or nationality, there's something universally touching about a baby animal's gaze. One that has a way of softening us all.This world of baby animals invites you to connect with that shared humanity — to feel the life, warmth, and emotion behind the eyes looking back at you.

About The Artist 🎨

Lebo Tladi was born in South Africa in 1994 and grew up surrounded by nature, animals, and a curiosity about the world that never left him. From a young age, he developed a precise, detail‑driven approach to art and design that runs through everything he creates.Raised near the African bush, with safari woven into his earliest memories, Lebo developed a deep connection to wildlife. Animals have always been a reminder of what we all share as living beings on the same earth.Today, Lebo lives in Japan, and it is here that bana took shape.
Living between two worlds, he found that animals were the one language that needed no translation. The warmth a baby animal stirs in you is the same in Pretoria as it is in Tōkyō.All the animals in this series are drawn entirely with a beautiful mechanical pencil.
No eraser, no revisions. Each line is committed to fully — honest, present, and vibrantly alive.

Get in Touch 📨

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If you prefer, you can also reach us directly at [email protected]We usually reply within one to two days.
Thank you for your patience and understanding.We look forward to hearing from you.