Skip to main content

A farewell to an elephant

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Meeting with Dr. Richard Leakey

Wilbur Smith’s "Elephant Song". I remember the first time I read that book, about 5 years ago. His words cut through my heart like a heated knife through butter. I could imagine it so vividly, I may as well have been there and borne witness to the massacre of the gentle giants we all know as the elephant. I never could finish that book; it was too painful for my heart to bear. Elephants have always had a special place in my heart, as do all wildlife. Something purely magical about each one that I cannot really explain. Having grown up in the eighties, one couldn’t help but be drawn to the politics and controversy surrounding these majestic ‘beasts’ of the African wilderness. I grew up in that time. Hunts were the norm a few years prior, and then, the big one. The ivory ban. Kenya was put on the world map in a gust of flames and a cloud of smoke thick as the canopy of our once great forests. How I remember that day. I was glued to that television like my life was on the line.

...Of White Blood.

It is the night of the 18th of July, 2011. 0400hrs, and I have been tossing and turning all night. It is only hours away, and I will be there in person. The Ivory Burn. When I was a little girl, I watched it on the television, and read about it for many years in many books and prints. It moved me. It moulded me. Tonight, it frightens me. I didn’t know back then, that I would live to witness another event of this nature. I didn’t know back then, that I would see the face of its reason. So here I am, wondering what the coming hours will bring. More than anything else, I fear how I will feel. Not too many months ago, I had the honour of assisting Danny Woodley’s team in Tsavo West with some rhino tracking and a census as a volunteer. I learnt a lot from that trip, and saw a lot too. After our day of tracking, I requested to see some of the confiscated trophies from the store. Three rangers unlocked the huge padlock and walked into a very dark room. My heart did not know what to expect. Mi

What’s that “60” on your profile picture mean?

I can’t tell you how many people have asked me that question... Everytime i hear it, i shed a silent tear... “60”... just a number, yet for me, a symbol of strength, courage, failure, perseverance, suffering, love, magnificence, torture, and so much more... I remember waking up in the morning, excited to be packing my supplies for rukinga, where I volunteer for wildlife works regularly on their anti-poaching patrols and desnaring activites. I got my menu sorted, checked my sunblock and toothbrush (the things I ALWAYS seem to leave behind! ), and started loading everything in the car. Throught the entire busride, I couldn’t stop thinking of what I would encounter this time, every time is different, some days are quiet, some days, are unbelievably eventful... I slept the rest of the way. I arrived in rukinga later that night, and was greeted by one of the staff, I couldn’t sleep without getting an update first; I had been told about the rise in poaching in that area, especially elephant