A farewell to an elephant

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. ...

Someone asked me, "do you still cry at the atrocious things you see or over time become hardened to it?" ...

This was my reply to Lisa Tieni: lisa... i'm not sure my words will be helpful, but i will write from the heart, as i always do... do i still cry?... lisa, everyday... without fail... i have seen things that would crumble a man in a second, i have smelt the death of wildlife, i have touched it, i have heard its sound, the sound of working maggots inside the body of a poached, faceless elephant... there is no getting over it... i have held dying animals, and i remember them all the time, i remember the tears they shed on my clothes, i remember the pain in their cries, in their eyes... there is no getting over it... i remember my ol'boy... George. my lion spirit, and best friend, i remember the day he was taken from me, they din't even call me, i didn't know... i never got to say goodbye... i was his only friend, his only company all those years in his rusty cage... i never got to tell him, it would all be ok, and he would be in a better place... i never got to hold my ol...

...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...

From The Frontlines

Search This Blog