Elephants Helping Elephants

November 25, 2014 Jen

I watch as her old arthritic fingers fight with the small silver needle and sun burnt thread on its epic journey of stitching up the elephant cushion. She takes a deep breath. My eyes never leave her face as her corn blue eyes, weathered with the passing of time twinkle and her cheeks glow like ripe strawberries as a huge satisifed sigh escapes her. ‘All done.’ She murmurs. It has taken a little time to do these two cushions as at 85, she always informs me that she can no longer run a marathon. My mum is a delightful and amazing old lady and I love and admire that she wants to help me raise funds for Chengeta Wildlife. I took photos of her beautiful cushions and put them on face book last night. What a fantastic response…and I now have to go and tell her that her work is not done. I have closed the cushion shop as she has orders for 10 more and I know what she will say.

‘I better do them as quick as I can because time is what I have…but how much time..I don’t know.’ And she will laugh at the horrified look on my face and we will work together to get these cushions done. So this coming week, I will snatch moments of time, oil the sewing machine and we will get busy on ‘elephant cushions.’ Stacked up next to me on the table, are beautiful calendars and numerous elephant key rings/chains for sale…all proceeds will go towards Chengeta Wildlife and the amazing work that Rory Young is doing in training rangers.

These are precious moments that are set in my memory like snap shots as I watch my family..the oldest being 85 down to the youngest who is comming up 4. My heart swells with pride when I hear them all talking about Chengeta Wildlife, Rangers and the poaching of elephants and rhinos and what we can do to help fight this scourge. We sit around the ancient dining room table making key chains, cushions or deciding what image would be best for the calendars.

Kayleigh (my oldest grandie) has definite ideas too.

I love the erth. It is the most specolest planet ever. Love Kayleigh. I liv in the UK. KBJ loves elees.

This money for the elees. To save the world.

(Took a few repeats from the author and rolling of eyes towards the ceiling when I took too long to decipher her note)

As a family, we work as a team. While I am now the matriarch of my family, I value what my mum has taught me. She plays a huge part in the family circle. Sadly her links with family members are stretched tight as they span over vast distances as we are now scattered all over the world. She shares her precious memories with her great grandchildren which offer breath taking glimpses into her past where the pulse of Africa throbbed beneath her feet and the cerulean sky drifted into infinity. She pines for her children, grand children and great grand children living in distant lands, and enjoys the ones who are close by. Elephants are no different from us.

Elephant families will also split but their reunions are incredible. Making contact through a swirl of dust, these mighty creatures embrace: ears flapping, tusks clicking, leaning into and rubbing each other: all the while urinating and defecating. Spinning in circles, they encompass the world with their joy and a cacophony of trumpeting screams and rumbles shred the air. Happy and joyful is their reunion.

While we are desperately trying to help Rory Young train rangers to fight the scourge of poaching, many thousands of miles away from where we sit around the dining room table, the sunset, in an explosion of gold is bidding the African day goodnight. While wisps of cloud flutter past the African half moon lying serenely on ber back, the magnificent martriarch wearing her robe of wrinkles and two well worn tusks trumpets in rage as bullets thump into the smallest member of her herd and she hears the bone crack. Trees explode as bullets ricochet and chaos reigns as this elephant herd is lost in a world of ugly greed, violence and blackness. With dawns slow promise of a golden day… a mighty stillness settles. Help us to help them.

These magnificent animals ask only for the space to roam free under the cerulean sky without fear, surrounded by their families and doing what elephants always do: living in the moment. As the superior beings, we do have one thing that no other living creature does: we have the ability to change the way things are. We hold the destiny of every living creature in our hands, and yet so few of us hear their silent cries of agony and their helpless pleas. The greed for ‘white gold’ has become the elephants downfall as the horn of the rhino has become their fate and their numbers are decreasing at an alarming rate. Elephants show all the best attributes of mankind with few of them displaying our darker sides.

Rory meeting with the chief and elders of Sidakoro, Parc National de Haut Niger

‘Meeting with the chief and elders of Sidakoro, Parc National de Haut Niger.
A critical part of the training and ops is how and why to approach community leaders and to sensitize and educate them, preferably developing in the process a positive flow of information from the community. With them on sides half the battle is won. Sometimes it is tedious work, lacking the excitement and adrenaline of pursuit and apprehension ops. That does not make it any less important.
In this case, far from complaining that the park and rangers are a nuisance the complaint from the elders and community is that poaching in protected areas has caused dramatic reduction in wildlife in traditional hunting areas. The majority of that poaching is by outside commercial poachers travelling to the park and then transporting the meat and other products to far away cities. In such situations the community can be and are a natural and important ally.’

While Rory Young gives of his time to train rangers throughout Africa, I am asking all of you…look at our chengetawildlife.org page. Help us to train and equip these men on the ground. Change will come….but we cannot afford to drift in the stream of the world….we need to act now. Africa’s wildlife needs us all to take an active role so that we can lead them out of the dark.

Consumers of ivory and rhino horn..hear their screams and let the heavy silence of loss flank you. Behind every piece of ivory and rhino horn is a story…a barbaric and bloody story. Your desire for ivory trinkets and rhino horn is decimating Africa’s elephants and rhinos. Those ivory bracelets, chopsticks and figurines are the cause of elephants being slaughtered. How can you desire something that is so significant of violence and death.

A call for help in desperate times of poaching by Rory Young. Please watch and share this short clip.

Magical Moments

November 17, 2014 Jen

With a chubby little finger pointing at the computer screen my youngest little angel asks with a lisp in her voice what I am doing. I explain that I am putting a calendar together to sell to make some money for Chengeta Wildlife to enable Rory Young to train the rangers and save the elephants. She nods vigorously as I take a deep breath, waiting for the next question but a comfortable silence ensues and she goes back to her drawing, which is of course an elephant…all be it a rather strange looking one.

Our little wildlife warriors

The following day, they both burst through our front door desperate to get to me first shouting, ‘Hold out your hand Gog, and close your eyes.’ I am always a little suspicious as I don’t want any unwelcome visitors plopping into my palm. However this time, I look down and I have a shiny 50p coin and 4 copper 1p’s sitting snugly in the creases of my palm. ‘That is for Chengeta Wildlife, so Rory can save the elephants, and if you need more we will find you some.’ They sound like to two excited chipmunks and I am immensely proud of them.

I bring up an image of an elephant that our daughter (their Mum) Mikaela drew many years ago and show it to them both.

‘Wow’ their mouths form perfect 0’s, ‘when did mummy draw this?’

I look down at the beautiful pencil drawing and a storm of memories flood in. I have not thought about this particular trip for years. It is a gentle reminder on why I am so passionate about being involved with Chengeta Wildlife.

Mikaela’s drawing of the elephant we watched on that magical afternoon many years ago

The huge tattered ears fan out and even from a distance we can see that this is not an elephant enjoying the tranquility of a perfect summer’s moment. Her trumpet of rage bounces off the low hanging clouds as she skids to a halt, a golden cloud of dust haloing around her vast wrinkled body. Her large noble head is lowered in an aggresive stance and her scythe like tusks protrude, battle scarred and menacing. The fresh sweet smell of urine and elephant dung carries on the breeze and I turn to Gary, Mikaela and Ben. ‘She is magnificent’, I mutter quietly, my heart hammering against my ribs. Behind her the acacia trees adorned in leafy splendour tremble as she marches, kicking through the shallow waters edge, an explosion of silver droplets showering down. She is a shimmering gauzy cloud of energy. She claims the bank as her own, her large powerful trunk with it’s deep fissures whipping from side to side and I am sure I can see the fire burning in her eyes.

We sit silently, watching spellbound from the safety of our boat. We have no idea what has upset her. The stillness returns, broken by the gentle gurgle of the river as it caresses the side of the boat. A fish eagle cleaves through the air and the low cloud parts allowing a shaft of sunlight to glint off the white tail feathers as the majestic bird swoops down, large talons outstretched skimming the gleaming surface and plucking out an unsuspecting fish, leaving only a gentle ripple as her powerful wings give her flight. I turn my attention back to the elephant on the bank and to my astonishment, the herd is spilling out from the elongated shadows and ambling down to the snaking river. We watch as they lower their trunks into the river sucking up deep drafts of life giving water, quenching their thirst before throwing warm Zambezi sand over their backs. Small calves rough and tumble, their wrinkled trunks entwined and their shrill calls carry across the undulating river. A swirl of water alerts us to the presence of a large croc: a medevil serpent as it closes in on the shallows, it’s long tail licking the surface laviciously. I pull my gaze away from the menacing croc, shuddering at the thought of those iron jaws. Searching the bank, I am amazed to find that the small herd of elephants have vanished, melting into the deep shadows of the clammy afternoon. Deep rumbles vibrate through the air and although I can no longer see them, I can feel their presence.

In this open air amphitheater, zebra bend in stripey unison, ears pricked and wary eyes watchful as they take a drink in the long shadows of late afternoon. Buffalo swagger with exaggerated arrogance, snorting and formidable in their numbers. Their imposing horns spread outward and downwards from their large heads before curling up and around. Their powerful and muscled bodies are bejeweled with tick birds, their personal ‘bug cleaning service’. Like souls open wide to the breeze, we cherish what the afternoon has offered…a special place where one can lose touch with the material world. The cloud has given way to a clear evening sky and as the horizon is being stitched with a golden thread, we sadly reel in the fishing lines. I fight with the knot that holds the boat to the dry tree stump, pushing away as Gary fires up the engine. Dodging the grunting hippos we race like the wind back to camp where we will welcome a night full of crickets and other wonderful African bush melodies.

A few days later, we heard that a couple of elephants had been poached. The bearer of this bad news, a wizened African man with his iron grey tight curls and toothless grin was pointing towards our fishing spot and we wondered if this could have explained the female elephant’s agitation. We had heard of poachers crossing the mighty Zambezi river from Zambia in their dug out canoes. Maybe our presence had not been welcome to this herd who unbeknownst to us might have been grieving.

This storm of memory has made me feel a little heart sore and homesick for this magical place where the air smells cleaner and sky appears to be as high as it is wide. I remember the gut wrenching feeling of helpless anger at the thought of two of these giants lying bloated and rotting in the African bush. I find it difficult to describe the deep yearning that I have for the African bush and the magical wildlife that we shared our fishing trips with….however, I do know that I have to try and help to preserve it…for the animals.

When we talk about the poaching of elephants and rhinos…it always comes back to the same point. Corruption and greed..... and more corruption and greed.

CONSUMERS OF IVORY….THIS IS THE TRUE COST OF IVORY TRINKETS

China has 37 licensed carving factories and calls to shut down these factories are studiously ignored. Zhao Shucong is the man who approves the licensing of these state sanctioned factories…all in the name of ivory trinkets.

I am not there to enjoy it but I am determined that Chengeta Wildlife, with a little help from me…can preserve these magical places that used to be abundant with elephants and other wildlife.

YOU CAN SUPPORT CHENGETA WILDLIFE TOO

The Unsung Heroes Of The Bush

November 11, 2014November 11, 2014 Jen

These brave wildlife rangers are targets too

The poachers’ have an almost inexhaustible supply of money. Because rhino horn fetches $65,000 on the black market and a kilo of ivory is worth over $1 800, the smugglers and tradesman have very little problem funding these poachers and poaching operations.

The burning embers fizz and crackle as the elderly man squats on his haunches, his tired bones creaking their resistance. The flames from the cheerful fire throws deep shadows onto his cheeks which are wrinkled and corroded by time. He stills his thoughts seeking renewal of his restless spirit. A symphony of night life brings him back into the web of existence and he absently throws another long onto the fire, pulling away as a myriad of embers explode showering down in a spectacular display. With a stomach turning weightlessness he allows his thoughts to crawl through the cracks of his mind. Dead elephants and a fallen comrade. He sees the desperate look in the eyes of the young man’s mother on hearing the news of her son’s death. He sees the bloodied and broken face of the young man who had only begun to taste life, and he shudders, his shoulders sinking into his sides. A sadness comes upon him all silent and menacing as it flanks him, and he tries to close out the images of the mutilated elephants as they lie sprawled into the parched earth…mothers, babies and a couple of pregnant cows. He looks stricken, shrunken and immensely old as he stares with weary bloodshot eyes into the forbidding shadows of the dark African bush.

Rangers are exposed to deeply disturbing scenes, with each poached carcass a frustrating and grisly reminder of failure, and they operate in the bush under harsh physical conditions, often with inadequate equipment, pay, and support.

Wildlife rangers endure similar ordeals to soldiers in combat. They routinely face death, injury, or torture from poachers, and the wild animals they protect can kill them too. In the DRC, which has been driven by almost two decades of civil war and political instability, about 150 rangers have been killed in Virunga alone since 2004.

Nightmares set like reels of grisly film in his mind will again sneak up on him under the dark cloak of midnight, claustrophobic and warm. It is a life changing experience for these rangers who are witness to the ‘desolation’ long after the poached animal has unburdened its enormous wrinkled body into a spiritual updraft of lightness. Sadly for these animals death does not always come in a single violent stroke.

With dawn’s slow promise of a golden day, he will once again disappear into the early shadows of the African bush to join his fellow rangers. With the fundamental energy of the human spirit, they will leave behind a night full of restless ghosts, hovering moths and a galaxy of mosquitoes to concentrate on the day ahead. The nightmares will once again wait for the sun to say good night before pouncing on his restless mind once again.

WHAT CAN WE ALL DO TO HELP IN THIS FIGHT AGAINST POACHING (PLEASE WATCH THIS SHORT VIDEO CLIP…CHENGETA WILDLIFE)

I often think back to the day when I was told that there was absolutely nothing that I as an individual could do to help in this continual fight against the evils of poaching. All to often we close our minds to the blood red streaks that mar our African landscape. While the world watches, the images of butchered animals, bodies bloated and legs suspended up in the air leap out of the computer or television, eyes staring unseeingly: pleading for somebody to take notice. This is not a violent storm that has bullied its way into the African bush. This is a dark menacing chaos of greed, corruption and destruction. These ruthless killers are turning the African bush into a wild sweltering inferno, flames devouring any animal with tusks or horns.

Rangers need all the help they can get in the fight against poachers.

Rory Young

Rory Young is a passionate and committed activist who has been fighting the evils of poaching all his life. He is a dedicated man who has decided to make it his life’s mission to ensure that the rangers fighting in this war against poaching have the best possible training. Rory has been in the field for well over 20 years now and has honed his skills in the bush as a pro-safari guide and a top class tracking consultant.

Rory Says

‘These animals are not dying of natural causes. We are not saving them from nature. They would not be on the verge of extinction it it wasn’t for us’

‘They are being killed for greed. This is a human offense, a human crime against these creatures and humans must make amends.’

‘I found that the very people who had knocked back the poaching in the 90’s are now old, or have been replaced with younger, less experienced people who had grown up after the liberation wars and counter insurgency operations of my generation and who had had no training or experience in the very skills needed to win. Very few could track properly and almost none knew how to follow-up poacher spoor as an effective team. Furthermore, the will to win was gone and there was no money because there was also no publicity about what was happening.’

Young said that by the end of 2014 he will have trained more than 150 team members on anti-poaching procedures. “Both the African elephant and the more endangered Forest elephant can both be saved and their numbers increased again, but only if we move immediately and decisively,” he said.

‘This war against poachers can be won. To win it it needs both a will to succeed and funding. We are losing elephants every single day. With your financial support we can put a stop to this senseless loss.’

Across Africa the scourge that is poaching is removing natural resources at an unprecedented rate. The southern African nation of Malawi is no exception to the hugely negative impacts of poaching on biodiversity and the natural ecosystem processes that sustain both people and wildlife.

CHINA STOP THE DEMAND

AND

CLOSE THE CARVING FACTORIES

“The ivory trade must be disrupted at all levels of criminality, the entire prosecution chain needs to be systemically restructured, corruption rooted out and all stakeholders, including communities exploited by the criminal syndicates and those on the front lines of enforcement, given unequivocal support.”

SAY NO TO IVORY

CHENGETA WILDLIFE

Nosey.. The Zimbabwean Elephant

November 3, 2014November 6, 2014 Jen

Brushstrokes of summer streak across the sky as I walk barefoot on the beach, my toes enjoying the soft sand. The scudding clouds pit against the wind in a never ending battle and the rhythmic pounding of the waves is hypnotic and relaxing. I can leave the noisy Durban traffic behind. I love the constant movement of the ocean and the taste of salt that lingers in my mouth. I feel as carefree as one of the sea gulls, floating in the empty air pockets high above the world and Gary and I quicken our pace, laughing as we try not to disturb the sand where the ocean kisses the shore leaving the beach clean until the next wave. Leaving the beach, we wander up towards a large car park as I have spotted a blue and white marquee and presume it is for a wedding. As we draw nearer we realize it is a ‘big top’ and we decide to investigate further.

I feel my stomach churning. A thin green canvas pergola keeps the scorching noon sun off the hunched back of the swaying elephant. Her coat of wrinkles hangs off her shoulders and her muscular and versatile trunk swings back and forth: a pendulum of time passing slowly. A blue plastic bucket is half filled with water and standing within reach of her sad trunk. The tarmac is hot beneath her spongy feet and she lifts a leg, stretching it backwards easing the pain that shoots up to her hip. Her noble head hangs and her large Africa shaped ears fan the stifling heat and there is a look of desolation about her: hope dying slowly. Hour after hour is spent chained to a stake as she waits for the next performance in this man made jungle of hooting traffic and redolent fumes. I am heart broken and find it difficult to tear my eyes away. The thin green pergola, a poor substitute for shade when I think of the African bush and its towering trees. My mind screams at me. Where had this elephant come from? I think of her family and that thought transports me back into the valley where we would see the same small herd of elephants fishing trip after fishing trip.

Bathing the bush in a soft coppery light, the shadows, warm and mellowed by the afternoon sun lengthen as the silence shredding cicadas fill the air. Thick canopies adorn the sun scorched trees and the small herd of elephants rumble gently as they feed on the soft fibrous stems and bark of a mighty baobab tree. The matriarch naps gently, her large versatile trunk thrown casually over her creamy tusk and her rather tattered ears circulating the warm breeze. Her long tail swishes, swatting away squadrons of whining flies. Small calves caked with mud mock fight, their small trunks locking as they tumble onto the dry earth…over a 1000 lbs of combined weight puffing dust up into the air where it hangs motionless like a gauzy curtain before freckling gently over the bushes.

We sit drifting in the stream of the world, silent witnesses and sucked in by the magic that surrounds these magnificent giants. Earlier in the day, this same small herd had been bathing downstream and we had tied up the boat and spent an hour entranced by their unblemished optimism for life. They had done a fair amount of mileage since the early morning and now once again we were being offered a brief glimpse into their world of compassion and love that they feel for each other.

As the last rays of sun weave their golden threads into twilight, crickets with acoustical wings like gossamer lace welcome the gentle evening breeze. The silent footfalls of the giants merge across the twilight and as they disappear from sight, they steal another gigantic chunk of my pounding heart.

My heart is still pounding..but for different reasons as I drag my mind back from my reverie. I keep turning to look at the sad and lonely elephant..ashamed of what these humans have done to her. A couple of hours later I am drawn back to the big top and we can hear the discordant tinny circus music long before we catch sight of the twinkling lights. I stand on the perimeter watching people flocking towards the open flap of the big top, my mind searching through the murk for something positive to say about this elephant’s predicament. I could only shake my head and wonder how we as humans can justify an act that turns a majestic animal into a ‘performing monkey’. Elephants do not sit on stools. As a gust of wind flings a handful of stars into the night, I turn away feeling helpless..but I make another silent promise to an elephant. I will never support a circus and I will always fight to ensure that these magnificent giants are kept out of the ‘big top’ and out of zoos. That was fifteen years ago and I am fulfilling my promises to these elephants. (petition)

NOSEY THE ZIMBABWEAN ELEPHANT

This brings me to Nosey the Zimbabwean elephant. My heart aches for Nosey. I have witnessed what her life should have been like. I will continue to put my name on all petitions concerning this animal whose loneliness ebbs and flows. While afternoon shadows stroke the horizon gently, Nosey’s solitary lifestyle in enclosed quarters reeks of neglect. She should be drinking in the beauty of the Zimbabwean bush, reaching her muscular trunk up to the sky and embracing the wide open blue freedom above her. Instead she is found limping and faltering in her gait: noisy humans on her back.

I read he r story and a storm of memory has my mind lost in a trance of golden sunsets , sultry breezes and a small elephant herd ambling along the banks of the fast and formidable Zambezi River. This could be where Nosey’s (petition)family had once enjoyed the solace of un-trampled lands before human induced tragedy had ripped her family apart. I will keep writing and fighting for these animals who deserve our respect. A new dawn must surely show its face..but..until it does, please help Nosey by signing this petition. Let us ensure that this beautiful creature can retire to an elephant sanctuary where she will form bonds with her own kind.

Survivors

October 27, 2014 Jen

DEDICATED TO ALL THOSE ELEPHANTS

THAT HAVE BEEN CALLOUSLY SLAUGHTERED FOR THEIR IVORY

As the morning sun lays a gentle hand across the valley, the young elephant cow remains hidden deep within the shadows of the thick bush. She is desperate to rinse off the uneasiness by bathing in the golden sunshine… but she is being pursued by heart wrenching echos and unsure of how to proceed. Lifting her muscular trunk, she inhales the sweet damp odour of rain on the breeze. Her coat of wrinkles hangs and there is a sadness in her eye as she fans her Africa shaped ears slowly. Her world seems crypt-quiet and motionless. She is 19 years old and the matriarchal duties that have been thrust onto her shoulders is a heavy burden for this young and inexperienced female to carry. It is essential that she is responsible enough to make some tough decisions in life for she must always consider, first and foremost, the well-being and safety of her family over and above the needs of any one individual that happens to fall on hard times. The small agitated herd are waiting impatiently…disturbed by the spirits of the dead as they are all moving into new realms of the unknown. A ravaging thirst has her leading them down to the fast flowing river where they take their fill washing down the choking and suffocating dust before disappearing back into the deep shadows of relative safety. The spell of the homeless winds whistles mournfully through the trees and the young matriarch in a moment of total self trust moves forward. Full of weighty concerns they ghost quietly through the bush, instinct urging her on ….she needs to weave a future for them all from this violent and tangled past.

CONSUMERS OF IVORY….LISTEN IN ON THEIR WORLD

A storm of memory has her temporal glands flowing and her heavy heart pounding violently against her rib cage as the currents of evil pulsate in the air. They slip through the shadows touching and caressing family members whose remains lie torn and bleeding into the dry earth. Squadrons of flies, excited by the smell of rotting flesh swarm hungrily over the carcasses. The young matriarch, a trumpet of rage piercing the thick air chases a cackle of hyenas that cavort and whoop loudly, long tendrils of spittle hanging from their ravenous mouths….but she is fighting a losing battle and the small desolate herd move on, vanishing across the twilight. The slow moving mist rises above the valley like an eerie phantom veil.

Entombed….. the ivory tusks which have been cut into pieces are suffocating under dozens of kilograms of cashew nuts…and on route to China. Each piece of stolen ivory tusk carries with it…an air of sadness and a tale of suffering and death. The unlucky hosts of these pieces of ivory lie spreadeagled and rotting deep within the sun burnt African bush.

This Is The True Cost Of Ivory Trinkets

It is estimated that a seizure rate of 10% in a developed country is considered “good” for general goods contraband – which includes ivory. This suggests that so far this year, an estimated 177,993kg (178 tonnes) of ivory has been illegally trafficked representing 19,400 elephants killed.

As the golden sunset casts out the remainder of a day, a young girl of 19, her raven black hair shimmering as it swings back and forth on her petite shoulders walks at a steady pace down the busy street, her high heels clipping the pavement with a delicate sound. Her slender arm is stretched out in front of her and she stares down, her dark brown eyes admiring the jewelry on her pale wrist. Creamy and intricately carved bangles jingle as she walks and a small smile of satisfaction sits happily upon her lips. IF IVORY COULD TALK….she would be able to picture the scene of mutilated and bloated carcasses rotting in the African bush. She would hear the terrified screams as bullets tear into flesh and the stench of their blood would fill her nostrils. Her heart would hammer painfully as the young matriarch whose older sisters and mother have been mown down to fulfill China’s demand for ivory is caught up in the evil web of human greed and deceit and unsure of how to lead her herd and keep them safe. She would look down on the ivory bangles encircling her wrist and feel their pain and sorrow searing into her flesh…..she would, I hope…..SAY NO TO IVORY and become a voice for the voiceless.

Human Tragedies

Some of Africa’s most notorious armed groups, including the Lord’s Resistance Army, the Shabab and Darfur’s janjaweed, are hunting down elephants and using the tusks to buy weapons and sustain their mayhem. Organized crime syndicates are linking up with them to move the ivory around the world, exploiting turbulent states, porous borders and corrupt officials from sub-Saharan Africa to China, law enforcement officials say.

PLEASE DO NOT LOOK THE OTHER WAY

THE RANGERS AND THE WILDLIFE NEED OUR SUPPORT

Chengeta Wildlife

The Tashinga Initiative

MAPP

Tipping Point

October 20, 2014 Jen

A shocking study published in August by American academics states that Africa’s elephant population has reached tipping point, that poachers are now killing more elephants than are being born, and the species is heading for extinction. According to the lead author, Colorado State University’s George Wittemyer, ‘We are shredding the fabric of elephant society and exterminating populations across the continent.’

I read this paragraph with a deep feeling of over whelming sadness as a memory clear as a snapshot comes to mind. Eye to eye with an elephant is an image and feeling that I covet with jealousy.

I gasp for breath, late afternoon shadows creeping up and over my feet as I stand transfixed with my knees shaking. I peer out from behind the rough textured tree trunk and gape open mouthed at the gigantic and magnificent visitor. She seems unconcerned as her muscled and versatile trunk with its finger like nobes gently clip the acacia pods before starting the epic journey from trunk end to mouth. I know she is aware of me and I am convinced that she must be able to hear my heart pounding violently against my ribcage. My mouth is so dry that the innerfolds are stuck to my teeth. I feel that I could reach out and touch her…..but she is not an arms length away…..it just feels like it. However, I will never forget the vibration and energy that surrounds her as it reaches out engulfing the space between us…….bewitching me. I can see the abrasive hide covering her body and smell the sweet odour of earthiness in the swirling dust freckling gently over my sunburnt feet. Listening to her sing in multi layered cadences as the warm and heavy late afternoon breathes slowly, I feel a gut wrenching emptyness as she turns away, her large rump rolling from side to side. As a large drop of sun lingers, idle in it’s goodbyes, I stand rooted to the spot, my heart pounding as the small herd of elephants pulsate to a barefoot shuffle…..melting deep into the evening bush. I am left feeling stranded as the low frequency purr that you can feel rather than hear slowly ebbs away. I wipe my damp hands down my hips as the sun gradually slides away, a gold wash marking the end of an exciting day.

(Okay…so I did not mention the electric strand running around the property)

I often think about this small herd of elephants and wonder how they are fearing. I hope that the Matriarch with her uneven tusks is still leading her family as they flirt with the starlit heavens. I pray that they are escaping the hush of death. These ‘Megagardeners’ are an intricate part of the African bush and do not senselessly destroy the environment. They modify the bush/veldt by opening up the thickly tangled woodlands and allowing grasslands to regenerate. As much as 80% of what an elephant consumes is dropped back, barely digested to the soil…..allowing evolutions slow magic to provide. This form of manure is highly fertile and the remainder of the tree that has been pushed over is consumed by other creatures…..or it decomposes enriching the earth for other vegetation.

It is only man that destroys

As deeper currents of greed blow on the breeze….Africa’s wildlife is under continual attack.

Consumers of ivory…your demand is shredding elephant society and exterminating populations across the Continent.

SAY NO IVORY

When I boarded the plane that would fly me to a distant land, I took only my memories and left nothing but my footprints and a land where the elephants were once free. Poachers play by a different set of rules…..and so do ivory and rhino horn consumers. My life has been enriched by the presence of these iconic animals in the African bush…warm happy memories that leaves peace in my heart and a melody of bush whispers caressing my soul.

Consumers of ivory….I ask….how can you desire something so symbolic of suffering and death. Elephant herds are at tipping point…..their trunks reaching high in silent prayer as their destinies are shaped by the buffeting winds. Hear the whisper of their prayers and feel their fear and sadness pulsating through the ivory that adorns your window sill, wrist or table. Armed men with hungry eyes and dark thoughts are leaving ugly scars on the African landscape as elephant tusks, rhino horn and other animals body parts come to rest half a world away from where they belong…..to feed the demand. Elephants, the wealthy hosts of ivory are being devoured by these dark and menacing shadows.

Breathe in deeply…and feel the hot searing pain from survivors as they return to the killing fields….chasing scavengers away before running their trunks gently over the mutilated remains of family members…..mourning and paying their respects to the dead. Allow the emotion from an old bull as he straddles his fallen comrade, attempting to keep the scorching heat from the midday sun off the dying elephant as it beats down, relentless and demanding to fill your dreams. Embrace the despair as the old bull’s large broken tusks gouge into the soft earth as he attempts to lift him…..to no avail. Weep as the old bull sucks up water from a nearby spring spraying it over the dying elephants noble head and large ears, cooling him down and enticing him to drink. As silence spreads it’s wings over the bush…..the old bull stays close…the heavy silence of loss flanking him.

Knowledge comes from knowledge….do not try to tell me that this bull was not embracing an act of caring and kindness.

PEOPLE

This Is The True Cost Of Ivory Trinkets

For those consumers of rhino horn…..I am a mother of two and like you, your wife, your sister or mother……I will never forget the powerful emotion of carrying a child within my womb. I will never forget the kindness bestowed upon me by the nurses when I was in labour, feeling totally out of control, frightened and in pain. Think back….enjoy the reflection…feel.

Now experience the throbbing pain from this pregnant rhino in labour as she battles through contactions, her vast low slung belly heaving. She is alone and vulnerable. Out of the shadows they come…vehicles of destruction as her life is cut short while trying to give birth…and she is forever frozen in time. Her personal treasure is her undoing. These hardened poachers butcher the horn from her face, their hands and arms thick with blood….before sliding away…soundless, voiceless and souless..leaving bloddied footprints in their wake. This act of destruction and violence is to feed your demand for rhino horn. Feel our anger as dark charcoal clouds are thrown across the sky….as the miracle within her…will never come to pass. Let these dark clouds spill over…and know in no uncertain terms that what you are doing is wrong. Knowledge comes from knowledge…..

ELEPHANT POACHING.. ‘A NATIONAL DISASTER’.

The mutilated bodies of elephants are left behind to decay in the bush but their personal treasures or blood ivory leaves a trail of red that stretches from Africa by air, sea and highway into Chinese carving factories. China has 37 licensed carving factories and calls to shut down these factories are studiously ignored. Zhao Shucong is the man who approves the licensing of these state sanctioned factories.

CHINA CLOSE DOWN YOUR CARVING FACTORIES (Please sign this petition)

Elephants are a source of great peace and wisdom that us humans should take note off. Humans, as the ‘rational thinking animals’ have the ability to alter their destructive tendencies. The thought of a world without these sentient giants is unthinkable. We have already caused such disharmony in their lives..but there is time to change..but we have to do it now. The challenge now..is to reshape some outdated perceptions and we all need to play a role.

CHENGETA WILDLIFE

One last thought: As the warm rays of sun pay their last respects to the mellow day in this sun burnt land, the heavy silence of loss ushers twilight into darkness. If we don’t unite against this rampant poaching: the African bush could be facing a future minus these rhinos and elephants: the very essence that adds to Africa’s magic.

WHAT CAN YOU DO? (SIGN THE PETITION)

PLEASE DO NOT LOOK THE OTHER WAY

THE RANGERS AND THE WILDLIFE NEED OUR SUPPORT

Chengeta Wildlife

The Tashinga Initiative

MAPP

Innocent Blood

October 13, 2014October 13, 2014 Jen

There is something infinitely healing in the assurance that the pink wash of dawn always breaks free from the long dark night and the fresh breath of spring seduces the coldness out of the winter days. I am sitting watching an autumn breeze blowing through the trees, stealing the foliage and leaving the branches bare. What strikes me though…is nature knows best. There is not the heavy silence of loss. These bare branches will soon sprout and turn green again. However, when an elephant or rhino is poached, the soft weary tread of feet on the road is ………no more.………just the hush of death and the mournful ballad of the coucal.

Extinction is forever.

Africa’s bush, a grand and wondrous spectacle awash in colours and odours is under constant attack. Godless scenes of destruction and cruelty are encountered on a daily basis by the brave Rangers doing their utmost to keep the wildlife safe. Wheeling vultures circle and a foul miasmic presence leads the rangers in this case to a scene so horrific…it defies description. Consumers of rhino horn..LOOK at what your demand is doing to these magnificent and prehistoric animals.

As you grind your rhino horn mixture..take a deep breath and feel the intense and burning pain of this animal left in a sticky pool of blood. Not only has this poor animal’s horn been brutally chopped and torn from it’s face, her eyes have been hacked out leaving her blind. WHY ? This black rhino was found staggering around, her large head blistering like a sweltering inferno as it hangs heavy and low to the ground. Brushstrokes of blood pool deep in the shadows and deeper currents of greed blow on the breeze. This is a barbaric act that needs to be seen and told to the deluded consumers of rhino horn.

A week ago animal lovers (myself included), the world over marched for elephants and rhinos across 136 cities and across six continents. The howling of a frustrated wind as we all stood together as one voice refusing to allow these animals to fall through the ever widening cracks into chaos. As time disappears in dusky sunlight and smoke, rhinos and elephants lives fade like passing shadows and a week on from the marches..the slaughter continues. However, we must not give up hope. During these dark and turbulent times, we need to regroup and weave a future for these animals from the tangled past.

PLEASE DO NOT LOOK THE OTHER WAY : WE ALL NEED TO PLAY A PART…NO MATTER HOW SMALL

Lisa Groenweg had decided that she could not turn a blind eye to the destruction and started Chengeta Wildlife. She shook up fellow Quora members by raising a huge amount of money in 24 hours….showing that where there is a will to participate and make a difference..it happens.

For anti-poaching activist and forestry expert Rory Young, his passion for saving the African elephant from deadly poachers involves a detailed field manual and arming local teams with firearms to combat what he calls, “well-armed, ruthless and experienced gangs of poachers.

I have been asked and have accepted with great honour and delight a position on Chengeta Wildlife’s Board of Directors.

‘Rangers and scouts are brave men who risk their lives to protect wildlife. They may face heavily armed poachers, sometimes ex-guerrilla fighters hired by ivory smuggling syndicates. These rangers need to have the best training and anti-poaching strategy possible and that is what Chengeta Wildlife provide.’

‘The programme is already proving successful as anti-poaching operations undertaken as part of the training uncovered several poaching syndicates operating in the area, some with links to neighboring Mozambique and as far away as China, highlighting the global scale of the poaching problem. Arrests were made and the culprits handed over to the appropriate authorities.‘

I will do what I can to raise awareness and funds for Chengeta Wildlife and ensure that Rory Young can continue to offer first class training to Rangers throughout Africa.

Under an African sky that is as limitless as it is wide, a world of corruption, violence and greed mars the beauty of this sun baked land and when there is a demand..money talks.

CHINA CLOSE DOWN YOUR CARVING FACTORIES (Please sign this petition)

Inside these factories, Chinese carvers with masks covering their noses and mouths sit hunched over their desks. Under bright artificial strip lights, the ivory tusk lies lifeless. Please do not look at the ivory as a commodity. Run your hand down the length of the tusk and imagine the bubbling mass of exuberance that is an elephant.. a breathing and iconic animal that has emotions on a par with man.

The large wrinkled noble head and muscular trunk is lifted, tasting the sweetness on the breeze. She is a dab hand at assisting in birth and she senses that the new calf will soon join her herd. The warm and heavy evening exhales slowly, appearing to hold its breath as the excited cows , temporal glands flowing sing in multi-layered cadences encouraging the pregnant cow as she bears down. As the mornings slow lazy light caresses the hills, a new miracle is taking its first shaky steps as long wrinkled and powerful trunks offer a gentle welcome. The excitement is shattered by the cruel barking of automatic fire as the new miracle of life and all the excited cows slump heavily onto the ground.

These are the tusks that are stolen from elephants and any legal carving or trade is a conduit and and cover for China’s vast illegal market. While Zhao Shucong as China’s State Forrestry Administrator continues to license China’s 37 Carving factories and 140 ivory retail outlets, elephant families like the one above will continue to be callously slaughtered and their mutilated bodies left to swell and rot under the burning African sun.

Run your eyes over that magnificent tusk intricately carved with a herd of elephants..ivory bodies gleaming under the light. This large tusk belonged to a middle aged matriarch, her head full of knowledge yet to be passed on to her daughter.

CHINA..CLOSE DOWN THE CARVING FACTORIES (Please sign this petition)

Keep On Marching

October 6, 2014 Jen

Nine months ago I was told that there was nothing that I could personally do to stop the slaughter of these animals. Well maybe not…but I was not going to become a silent witness to this rampant destruction. I was not going to watch from the sidelines as elephants and rhinos evaporate into the mist…lost in translation and crushed under the heels of supposed civilization.

Disturbing images of mutilated and bloated elephant carcasses jump off the page as a person’s mind closes down and they are unable to look and so I decided that I would raise awareness on the plight of these animals through the pent up emotion that pounds through my veins. I am a white African with a deep passion for this harsh and timeless land..that is the African bush and the wildlife. My passion for elephants began many years ago and as I have grown so has my love and respect for them. These ambassadors of the wild have shared with us their intelligence, love and compassion and I feel that we owe it them to stop the destruction. There is a magic that surrounds elephants and I aspire to be a part of the force that ensure that they continue to spread their harmony over the sun drenched bush.

I always wanted to be one of the herd

All one needs is the passion to to go out there and do what you have to do. My passion spurs me on. There is always something that each person can do to assist in this ‘poaching war.’ I have built my blog from 6 hits to 15 000 hits and my main aim was to appeal to the Chinese people that buying something so symbolic of suffering and death is morally wrong. 9 months later..the most traffic onto my blog is from China. As the weeks passed like fading shadows, I felt like I was still drifting in the stream of the world and this was not good enough. I would be delighted if my blog was earning money..but it does not and the fire in my belly is always to do more and through a series of events I came across Chengeta Wildlife.

Rory Young is a professional tracker with 25 years of experience and he is also the co-author of ‘A Field Manual For Anti-Poaching Activities.’ and he has embarked on an honorable journey of sharing his knowledge and skills.

‘This book is the first of its kind, showing clearly how poaching processes work and explaining the strategies, skills and techniques necessary to disrupt those processes. It stresses the need for deterrence and how to stop the problem before it starts. The goal is to provide a free printed copy to all anti-poaching units.’

A manual well worth reading..and full of information. This manual provides intense and detailed evaluation of how to decipher even the smallest and at times what might appear to be unimportant detail and encompass it all into the strategy. In the preface they talk about the fact that our existence clings to the fragile towers that are made up of innumerable life forms that we share this beautiful world with. When individual species are destroyed, we change their impact on the ecosystems and eventually the towers will begin to crumble and fall…causing a domino effect. We have to be incredibly egotistical to believe that we can survive without these ecosystems.

Chengeta Wildlife is a force for good, offering a comprehensive solution to help combat the evils of poaching and I was inspired and determined to help in raising some funds for them.

I have now been asked and have accepted with great honour and delight a position on Chengeta Wildlife’s Board of Directors.

‘Rangers and scouts are brave men who risk their lives to protect wildlife. They may face heavily armed poachers, sometimes ex-guerrilla fighters hired by ivory smuggling syndicates. These rangers need to have the best training and anti-poaching strategy possible and that is what Chengeta Wildlife provide.’

‘The programme is already proving successful as anti-poaching operations undertaken as part of the training uncovered several poaching syndicates operating in the area, some with links to neighboring Mozambique and as far away as China, highlighting the global scale of the poaching problem. Arrests were made and the culprits handed over to the appropriate authorities.‘

I am helping to ensure that these giants along with rhinos, lions and other wildlife will continue to feel the warmth of the sun on their backs.

What else can I do? Never in my wildest dreams did I see my African self marching in defense of elephants and rhinos in LONDON. What an amazing atmosphere there was on Saturday 4th October. Despite the rain which was reluctant to lift and let the sun break free from the grey clouds, the little girls were bubbling with excitment even though their view of the crowd did not get above hip height. They wore their home painted ‘Chengeta Wildlife’ tee shirts with pride, happy to show their backs to anyone who would look. The noise amplified into an overpowering hum, echoing off the large buildings towering high in this concrete jungle..a far cry from the tangled bush and cerulean sky..home of the African Elephants and Rhinos. Inhaling the sweet damp scent of rain we marched with our Zimbabwean flag held high becoming one with the noisy teeming mass of humanity as we marched, chatted, laughed and shouted. As I marched I could feel soft whispers from the African bush and the hair on the nape of my neck prickled and a lump the size of a green apple was lodged firmly in my throat. My memories, sweet with the wonder of seeing these majestic giants in the wild and compels me to do anything in my power to help to ensure that these memories do not become just faded photographs in my memoirs: crumpled pages of inadequate words.

Our little girls – dressed and ready to march for Elephants and Rhinos and showing their support for Chengeta Wildlife

Thousands of people had taken to the streets in 130 cities around the world lifting their voices to raise awareness of the plight faced by these critically endangered animals.

‘The Global March for Elephants and Rhinos will aim to achieve a full worldwide ban on the trade of ivory and rhino horn, the implementation of tougher penalties for wildlife crime, and the strengthening of law enforcement in consumer countries and range states. In addition, they will also make the demand that ivory and rhino shops and carving factories are shut down immediately.’

China..as I have said many times…’Hear the mournful ballad of the grey dove as death: a foul miasmic presence reaches out over the sun kissed bush of Africa. This is a scene that should be grotesque and offensive to eyes, ears and nostrils..and to those people who buy ivory. Sadly money talks..and money only talks when there is a demand. STOP THE DEMAND AND CLOSE THE CARVING FACTORIES.

CHINA..THIS IS THE TRUE COST OF IVORY TRINKETS

The mutilated bodies of elephants are left behind in the bush but their personal treasures or blood ivory leaves a trail of blood that stretches from Africa by air, sea and highway into Chinese carving factories. China has 37 licensed carving factories and calls to shut down these factories are studiously ignored. Mr. Zhao Shucong holds the destiny of Africa’s magnificent giants in his hands. China and Mr. Zhao Shucong needs to take responsibility for the fact that they are fueling the trade that is decimating African elephants. Here is a petition demanding that China bans all ivory.

Poaching is illegal. The consequences of being caught must out weigh the rewards.

Please have a look at our amazing website: chengetawildlife.org

”The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing.” – Edmund Burke

GO OUT AND DO WHAT YOU NEED TO DO TO HELP SAVE ELEPHANTS AND RHINOS

Marching for Giants

September 29, 2014 Jen

DEDICATED TO ALL THOSE GENTLE GIANTS WHO END OF UP IN CHINESE CARVING FACTORIES..

AND THIS IS WHY I AM MARCHING FOR ELEPHANTS AND RHINOS

People of China..please join the march on 4th October. March for Elephants and rhinos

A smartly dressed middle class Chinese woman leans over the counter, her manicured blood red nails stark against her pale hands as she taps the immaculate glass counter with her fingers. As she nods the light reflects off the thick shiny wave of hair, her open smile showing small even pearly white teeth and a darting pink tongue. Behind the trader endless displays of ivory tusks and numerous creamy trinkets lie entombed in glass cabinets. A temple to modern Chinese artisans/craftsmen and a tragic resting place for what remains of these magnificent and sentient animals. The warm and heavy evening breathes slowly as the trader, desperate for a sale appeases her impatience by removing innumerable trinkets and tusks from behind sleek glass for her to caress. Behind her, a noisy crowd like a slow destructive tidal wave surge forward in their lust for ivory. Her dark eyes run the length of an enormous tusk. She is only seeing a work of art which has taken a year of endless carving and patience. She is not seeing the elephant whose rhythm of life has been broken…suddenly and without warning.

With a friendly wave and warm smile she inches her way through the crowd, delighted with her purchase. With one last glance and dreaming of a return she steps out into the smog filled air leaving the cloying warmth and mighty stillness of the ‘elephant graveyard’ behind her. Her head is full of admiration for the carver who has turned this elephant into such an extraordinary piece of artwork. It will sit in pride of place on the lounge window sill enshrouded by delicate lace curtains splashed with swirls of red..a perfect backdrop for this blood ivory. With a warmth spreading like sunshine over her soul she has no idea that she is playing a part in the demise of the African elephants. The emptiness of these hateful crimes….unbeknown to her…. match the sad lumbering of an old bull elephant whose noble head was once the proud owner of the perfect scythe like tusk that she has paid an absolute fortune for and now owns.

The clean smooth remains from this noble creature lie along with the remains of hundreds of other elephants in the stillness of the African bush under a blistering sun in the Niassa Reserve, Northern Mozambique. If only she could see what is left of this trundling bull. If only she and millions of other Chinese buyers of ivory and rhino horn could read the headline..

ELEPHANT POACHING.. ‘A NATIONAL DISASTER’.

If only they could hear the raging screams of elephants under attack as ‘beasts of war swoop down from above in their modern machines’and the pungent smell of death chokes the untamed bush. Africa’s sunrise which should offer a fiery promise to each new day is revealing bloody and violent ‘killing fields’. If only she could hear the distressed screams from small calves as they try to rouse their mother’s from a permanent sleep, their small muscular trunks rusty red and caked with blood and a glazed expression in their eyes. Without the protection of their herd, they too will become sad statistics in this harsh and timeless land. The scavengers are excited by the stench of blood and torn flesh and the survivors of this massacre know instinctively that their time is coming..the flame of life flickers dimly. Late evening shadows, always obedient to the lowering sun cannot obscure this godless scene unfolding while the world watches..for the most part silent.

China…this is the tortured scene of desolation and loss..the true cost of ivory trinkets. Lives are being destroyed by the unquenchable lust for ivory. China..close down the ivory carving factories. These are licensed by one man.. Mr. Zhao Shucong.

CHINA..THE TRUE COST OF IVORY TRINKETS

An aerial survey of the Quirimbas Park in 2013 found 854 live elephants, and 811 carcasses of elephants slaughtered by poachers. In other words, 48.7 per cent of the elephants spotted in the park were dead. A similar survey in the Niassa Reserve in 2011 found 12,029 live elephants and 2,627 carcasses.

And it is the Niassa and Quirimbas elephant herds that are now being targeted by organised criminal gangs, in what Pereira said “can be described, with no exaggeration, as a national disaster”.

‘Pemba, in Mozambique, is famous for exporting timber. It is also one of the areas where the smuggling is the most serious. Here there are a large number of Chinese timber merchants. According to an Environmental Investigation Agency report in 2012, there are a large number of Chinese timber companies that have engaged in illegal exploitation and smuggling. One official, from the Mozambique Tourism Bureau, told the Southern Weekend reporter that some timber dealers, by virtue of well-established timber transport routes, transport ivory hidden in large vans to other countries. “Some government officials are also involved, but I can’t comment on that. ” –

Authorities look the other way as raw ivory in the shape of elephant tusks can be found on sale in Maputo.

I WILL BE MARCHING FOR ELEPHANTS AND RHINOS ON 4TH OCTOBER 2014…

WILL YOU?

CHINA CLOSE DOWN YOUR IVORY CARVING FACTORIES….PLEASE

(Please read and sign this petition)

The True Cost of IvoryTrinkets

September 22, 2014 Jen

The mist floats reluctant to lift, noiseless as it crawls up and over the roof tops. A drowsy murmur floats in the air as the grey morning creeps in, slow and languid. I pick up my copy of ‘A field Manual for Anti-Poaching Activities’ written by Rory Young and Yakov Alekseyev and lose myself in the information.

On page 32…232 of the manual:

New Contacts:

‘Normal citizens often require a ‘nudge’ before taking action’.

I stop reading and with my finger tracing over these powerful words, I smile thinking back over the reasons why I had become involved with raising awareness on the plight of the elephants. There are many different reasons. I have spent untold weeks of my life romancing the African bush and elephants, richly endowed with all the better attributes of mankind have ambled through the twilight and past our camp many times, their low rumbles capturing my imagination and my heart. As the early sunrise explodes over the horizon and the breeze caresses the early morning dew, my heart is at one with this sun baked land of extremes and I live for the next moment when I will become aware of that low frequency purr that you can feel rather than hear as these giants ghost into view. As the bright golden sunshine cradles the end of another exciting day, and that special woody smell of mopani smoke lingers on your clothes, Africa, in all its wildness, harshness and beauty would be like an empty shell without elephants, rhinos and other endangered game.

Dedicated to all those brave rangers fighting for the endangered wildlife

I have such a huge admiration for the men on the ground. They are fighting against vicious gangs of poachers..ruthless hardened men. African elephants are being slaughtered at an alarming rate to satisfy the soaring demand for ivory among China’s middle class. Hundreds of rangers have been murdered in the defence of endangered wildlife.

When long shadows and weary strides signal the end of a sultry day, these brave men and women have to rid themselves of the dark hungry presence and repugnant odour of death that clings long after the spent cartridges and freshly mutilated elephants or rhinos have been found. They patrol the sun kissed bush which has turned in a raw and violent battlefield. As stars cool down the darkest sky, the rich smell of evening and fire smoke keeps squadrons of mosquitoes at bay as the young ranger squats, drunk with fatigue and deep in thought as he stares into the rich red smoldering coals. A couple of small children with their somber brown eyes and tight knit curls rough and tumble in the dirt. Puffs of dust freckle lightly over their ebony cheeks. A tinkle of laughter erupts from these two bundles of concentrated energy reminding the young ranger that there is some normality to life despite the constant reminder of this poaching war. The nightmares, set like snap shots in his mind will sneak up on him later in the dead of night. Pulling the two children close, he ruffles their hair..now is family time.

As the morning lays a gentle hand over the peaceful valley, the bush is coming alive with early morning songsters chorusing from the trees. The young man picks up his weapon and laying a gentle hand on each small head, he waves them goodbye stepping out and disappearing into the early shadows of the bush to join his fellow rangers. 10 kilometers further down the river line a small herd of elephants feel the throb of the valley beneath their feet. They have left behind a night full of hovering moths and a galaxy of mosquitoes. Their large trunks swing freely and they are fully engaged in the beauty surrounding them. Two small calves are being raised within this warm and loving environment and their confidence is obvious as they frolic with exuberance and noisy splendour. There is always a large muscled trunk caressing or guiding an infant through the swirl of dust. Gentle rumbles vibrate on the breeze and there is a feeling of calm. The matriarch has led this herd for 25 years now and her daughters are learning the journey through her memory. They are a close knit family group.

‘KKKKKK’ the angry bark of automatic rifles explodes and the sky bursts open. The small herd of unsuspecting elephants are hard hit and they crash one after the other into the dry parched earth, their tormented cries piercing through the early morning. The small calf loiters, frightened by the chaos and by the thick odour of blood and smell of gunpowder. She has no where to run and no where to hide. With her small heart hammering she reaches out with her trunk, tentatively smelling and prodding her mother whose eyes stare..unseeing. She has been frozen in time. The small calf is the sole survivor..all that is left from this loving herd. There is a silence of emptiness and melancholy hangs. The trees stand, witnesses to the carnage as the silence shredding cicadas once again saw the air.

Using axes the poachers work quickly to remove the tusks before evaporating into the bush, their blood stained shoulders bearing the brunt of their ill gotten gains. The young ranger and his group have heard the shots and are moving towards the killing grounds, their expressions tense and their brows furrowing with concentration and it is a couple of hours later that they stumble into the nightmare of torn flesh. Stopping briefly, they decide on their course of action, and picking up the tracks, they follow. They track for a few hours and covering a huge distance. The young ranger, a deep anger burning within his chest did not stand a chance. The poachers came upon him all silent and menacing..a phalanx of ruthless killers. His untrained follow up had him walking straight into their ambush and into automatic fire. Fortunately for them, his colleagues who were lagging way behind, stop to help him and once again the poachers slip the net.

She looked stricken, shrunken and immensely old as they laid him gently down onto the sheet on the floor of the room. Two pairs of huge round eyes swimming with tears peer out from behind her garish skirt. He will never lay a gentle hand on their heads again.

The air is no longer filled with shouts of laughter, giddiness and urgency. Outside, the blood red streaks of twilight are fading fast. Under the grotesque limbs of the listening tree, the small elephant calf, the tip of her trunk stained rusty red stands dejected and lost. The empty skies stares down. Two families from two species have lost loved ones….

The mutilated bodies of elephants are left behind in the bush but their personal treasures or white gold leaves a trail of blood that stretches from Africa by air, sea and highway into Chinese carving factories. China has 37 licensed carving factories and calls to shut down these factories are studiously ignored. Zhao Shucong is the man who approves the licensing of these state sanctioned factories…all in the name of ivory trinkets.

For anti-poaching activist and forestry expert Rory Young, his passion for saving the African elephant from deadly poachers involves this detailed field manual and arming local teams with firearms to combat what he calls, “well-armed, ruthless and experienced gangs of poachers.

Rangers and scouts are brave men who risk their lives to protect wildlife. They may face heavily armed poachers, sometimes ex-guerrilla fighters hired by ivory smuggling syndicates. These rangers need to have the best training and anti-poaching strategy possible and that is what Chengeta Wildlife provide.

I had been lost in thought and once again look down on the ‘Field Manual for Anti-Poaching Activities’ manual sitting on my lap. I feel for these men on the ground who are struggling in this poaching war.I cannot sit and do nothing: I can describe the pain and torment that these animals experience and raise awareness through my writing and poetry. However, I need to do more. This is not a violent storm that is bullying its way through the African bush. This is a dark menacing chaos of greed, corruption and ruthless killers who are turning this sun burnt bush into a wild sweltering inferno: flames devouring any animal with tusks and horns. At the rate these animals are being poached: mortality shadows them.

‘My chosen cause is Chengeta Wildlife and the following infographic has been designed for Chengeta Wildlife with thanks to Joe Chernov, Robin Richards and Leslie Bradshaw. Please share it by any means that you can.’

WHAT CAN YOU DO?

PLEASE DO NOT LOOK THE OTHER WAY

THE RANGERS AND THE WILDLIFE NEED OUR SUPPORT

Chengeta Wildlife

The Tashinga Initiative

MAPP

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