Hunt for the elusive Big Five

AFTER a tough year in which as a financial journalist, I have had the difficult task of relaying depressing signals of the difficulties ahead, I retreated to Hwange National Park, that bustling capital of vicious carnivores. The strain had already been too much for companies before we entered 2015. State revenues continued to decline, and corporate budgets were unravelling. The risk is that in the face of the downturn, domestic tourism may fail.

At the heart of this sprawling leisure resort lies the Hwange Safari Lodge, my favourite home in that part of Zimbabwe. It took me time to return to the vast untouched lands after my previous explorations there. But the good news is that each time I return to Hwange, I am greeted by a transformed destination. There would be more flocks of the eagles that snatch food from patrons’ plates at Hwange Safari Lodge, new generations of daring monkeys that lurk behind windows for a chance to sneak into rooms, and exhilarating tales of exciting confrontations between predators and predators, and predators and prey.

While exploring the south of Hwange on December 20, I was shocked by the story of a painted dog, facing extinction in this part of Africa, which was attacked and killed by a lion after frustrating its efforts to pounce on an impala. It triggered a scene. Siblings of the painted dog combed through the vicinity and barked and screamed well into the night.

“I knew I had to save the painted dog because it is facing extinction, but my clients were taking pictures,” our guide said. This jewel wildlife estate, a crown of Zimbabwe’s national parks, was run down after violent farm seizures in 2000, which discouraged tourism. A cluster of fallen timber structures at Kanondo Safari Lodge, once a haven for high spending foreign tourists, were a sad reminder of how fighting and bad publicity threatened the industry.

Not anymore. An African Sun Limited sign post at Hwange Safari Lodge’s front office said it all. It described the facility as the most improved within the listed leisure group in 2013. And the personal attention to tourists arriving there is testimony of a coordinated national effort to rebuild a shattered industry.

Cheetahs had cornered an impala close to the lodge in full view of tourists on the day I arrived. Exhausted after battling for long to save its life from the big cats, the impala gave in and its neck was quickly shredded, and its belly ripped wide open. Then a combined force of vultures, marabou storks, hyenas, jackals and cheetahs camped on the spot for an early Christmas party. I missed the moving action by a few minutes.

Early next morning, we took off to explore the national park, a frustrating adventure when we came up close with many types of game, but struggled to see the Big Five. I was excited at the privilege of navigating through the vast forests and rolling landscapes hoping for a miracle. Everywhere, its clusters of deciduous trees stretched out, later uniting yonder to form a false delimitation between earth and the sky, which could only mark how far the eye could see.

Deeper into virgin jungles, we dodged beautiful outcrops of imposing savanna woodlands. There was no sign of the rest of the Big Five. We had encountered the marabou storks as we left the lodge, we had jolted shy kudus on the way, we had come face to face with zebras and we had cruised through the edge of 300 suspicious buffaloes. But we had seen no lion, no giraffe, no rhino and no elephant.

Yet it is this expectation, anxiety, uncertainty and the near frustration that keeps you on the edge of your seat, which makes the experience entertaining and fun. Then finally, Grrrrr! Grrrrr! Grrrrr! Just in front of us, deeper in the interwoven thickets, the big jumbo jolted us! “There are the elephants,” the guide said.

Their imposing postures sent shivers through my heart. But Hwange National Park’s elephants are as friendly as super models. We were encouraged to shoot many pictures while they headed to the 4X4. Bulls and mothers surrounded us and took time to greet and welcome us into the unpredictable life of the jungle where only the fittest can survive. In a moment, their huge frames were consumed by the thickets as they effortlessly uprooted shrubs and pulled branches.

In a morning of anxiety, fun and close encounters with game, we were confronted by the sad picture of seeing the huge dry hide of a once proud giraffe heaped on the edge of a pool, its long bones spread all over the vicinity. It had been electrocuted. “It was an early Christmas for predators,” the guide said.

Surging deeper into the forests, we disturbed an elephant. When it trumpeted, my heart sank. I was confused. Back at the lodge, a member of the robbing eagles flew past. My heart sank again! An elephant? A lion? A cheetah?

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