Seeing from a different Eye

For the Love of an Elephant - by Cathy Buckle "Letter from Zimbabwe" 8th August 2024

An elephant with a very swollen lower leg was standing in the hot, dry bush. Something was wrong, its foot was big and the skin peeling and Kelly watched for a few minutes, took photographs and then phoned Blake Muil.  Blake, heading the Rukuru Conservation Unit, went into action immediately; after 30 years of living in the bush and working in the wildlife business, he knew time was critical.

From the pictures it looked like there were two snares on the elephant’s lower leg. They had probably been set near a waterhole where poachers set lines of as many as 100 snares attached to trees all around the water with thorn branches placed in between leaving animals no way to get to the water without getting caught.  

The young elephant bull was on the boundary of Rukuru and another property in the Zambezi Valley and these cable snares had probably been on its leg for about two months, gradually going deeper and deeper into its flesh and eventually cutting off the blood supply to the elephant’s foot. Blake knew that intervention was needed urgently before this young bull would lose its foot.

Blake went immediately to the National Parks offices in Marongora to ask for help. A team of Scouts would be taken to the last known location of the elephant and they would start tracking from there. The young bull probably wouldn’t have gone too far with its limited mobility on a painful and very swollen leg. Checking water sources first, the Scouts soon picked up the elephant’s track in the soft sand; it wasn’t hard identifying the spoor which was scuffed and dragged. A few days after it had first been seen, the elephant was located by the tracking team and by then the National Parks head Vet was also available. 

The young elephant was darted and the veterinary team got straight to work. There were two snares on the elephant’s back leg, deeply embedded in the flesh above its foot. Two big incisions were made and the wire cable snares exposed. The twisted wires were carefully cut and extracted and the wounds cleaned and sterilized. Antibiotics were injected, the wounds closed and packed and then it was time to administer the reversal drug.

The vet slipped the needle into one of the pronounced blood vessels in the back of the elephant’s ear and told everyone to start moving away. From a safe distance they watched and waited. For the love of an elephant had they all managed to save this young bull? This now was the critical moment. Would the elephant make it? The adrenalin was palpable. “How many minutes,” the vet called out? Someone answered. The tension was thick in the air, the seconds ticked past and they waited to see if the elephant would come round.

The first sign was a puff of dust as the elephant exhaled, its trunk lying flat on the ground. Then another puff of dust. The elephant’s head came up and flopped back down. Its trunk came up, slowly the elephant rocked itself and managed to sit up.

“Excellent,” the vet whispered. “So our boy is waking up nicely after about three or four minutes,” he said. “Up, up, up my boy,” he said, tenderness and emotion clear in his voice. The elephant struggled up onto its feet and there was an audible sigh of relief, a little nervous laughter, whispered chatter. “Well done guys,” the National Park’s head Vet said, “well done, well done.” Everyone shook hands; fantastic teamwork from everyone involved had saved this young elephant bull.

Wonderful work like this needs all our support. Support for transport and fuel, for food and allowances for the trackers; for the vet and the drugs he needs for darting and treatment and then of course for the follow-up monitoring in the weeks to come by Blake and his team and then for the next animal and the next.

This wonderful story from Zimbabwe highlights the fantastic response from National Parks: professional, dedicated and efficient. Blake Muil and the Rukuru Conservation Unit and their helpers need support to continue this critical work for the future of our Zimbabwe; they are there, out of the spotlight, boots on the ground, day after day, saving the wilderness for us and the generations yet to come. Please click this  link to support this amazing work. https://www.paypal.com/donate/?hosted_button_id=2TNMPJHYHN948  

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If you would like to read more about Cathy’s work, please visit her website or subscribe to her letters. There is no charge for the emails “Letter From Zimbabwe” but donations are welcome:  https://cathybuckle.co.zw/

Like scales falling from my eyes

The small town was buzzing! Victoria Falls, named after the famous waterfalls, was also well known as the adrenaline capital of Africa. With four main countries of southern Africa converging close to the point where the great Zambezi River plunges into the deep gorge below, it was a great opportunity for almost all safari groups, touring through Zimbabwe, Zambia, Botswana and Namibia to visit these spectacular waterfalls. Lone backpackers and larger groups of young adventurers travelling together in big adapted trucks also flocked to this small town in the middle of a national park in search of wildlife encounters and adrenaline-pumping activities, especially river rafting, but also bungee jumping, gorge swinging and much more. In the 90-ies this was an adventurers paradise!

I had lived to Zimbabwe years before when I had worked at the University of Zimbabwe in the capital, Harare. So now, after travelling down from Morocco to Mozambique and re-entering Zimbabwe, it felt like coming home and I was looking for a way to stay again. But this time I didn’t want to work in the big city, I wanted to stay in the Victoria Falls area. I wanted to work in nature. So I wandered around the small town, feeling a bit lost as I could not find a way to a meaningful position in the bush. I no longer had a residence or work permit – a prerequisite for any company willing to take on a new employee, let alone train one. I had not worked in scientific research, so that was also out of the question. But as my time was ‘available’ and I spoke more European languages than only English, I got an unpaid, unofficial job as a translator on a safari. It was interesting and very educational.

But after a while I needed to return home to my family in Switzerland. Back home, I sort of dabbled around, putting off looking for a long-term job. I still felt lost, not knowing what to do with my future and how to move forward. But I was wasting my time and that was certainly not good either, so I thought further education could only help my situation. I enrolled on a French course in the beautiful Loire Valley in France. Improving my language skills could only be beneficial.

It was there, in France, that I had a profound change of perspective, in a place and from a person I least expected. During the lunch breaks, the class, made up of all kinds of nationalities, would flock to a nearby café. You know how it is… everyone wants to sit next to the guys and girls in the class who were the most vocal, seemed the most confident, showed the most charisma and displayed leadership qualities. We are like sheep.

On one particular lunch break, I was a little slow on getting my seat and I found myself sitting on the edge of the bench, next to a quiet young lad, incidentally also from Switzerland. At first I thought, ‘oh, what a bummer, what a bore!’ But as I naturally have compassion and respect for all people and, above all, manners, I made the best of the situation and started some ‘small talk’. Much to my surprise, this young man had also travelled to Africa and spent time in West Africa, so we actually had a lot in common and lots to talk about. How horrible I was to judge a person by their modest mannerisms, by their humble clothing or anything else really. That taught me a lesson!

As we talked, I opened up to him and told him about my situation in limbo. I talked about my desire to work in nature and confessed that I had a far-fetched dream of becoming a safari guide, something I usually never told anyone so as not to embarrass myself with my fantasies. But this young man – I can’t even remember his name – he didn’t laugh, he remained thoughtful. He asked me one question: “If you had a safari company, would you hire yourself?” Gosh, that was a shot out of the blue. I didn’t have to think long, my answer was a definite ‘YES’.

It was a profound realisation. It was as if the scales had just fallen from my eyes. I had so much of what it takes to be a safari guide. My knowledge, my character, my love and understanding of wildlife and my empathy for people – the safari guests.

My perception changed in an instant.
It gave me a complete different way of seeing myself.
It broadened my frame of mind and I could see the bigger picture.

With this new-found confidence, I set about writing application letters (emails) to safari companies. Two replied. Two offered me a job. I took the first one.

Two weeks later I was on a plane to Maun, Botswana, to join my new employer, a safari company specialising in overland and fly-in safaris to the Okavango Delta, Chobe National Park and the Kalahari Desert. I was embarking on a new adventure into the unknown. And I felt in my bones that I was on the right path!

I am eternally grateful to this young man in France, who probably has no idea how he changed the course of my life – all in a matter of seconds.

Picture of Rita Griffin

Rita Griffin

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