Uhambo: An African Journey

Uhambo ©

Once upon African soil, Amathemba the leopard was born in the middle of the savannah. Amathemba had a wonderful childhood. Her mother loved and looked after her, and her brother, with soft and tender devotion and patience. The cubs would play fight together and practise their hunting tactics in their mother’s knowledgeable presence. She would offer them hints on how to improve their speed, their agility and their hunting techniques. Everyday the cubs would learn something new and they would have to remember it for the next day and the next, until every move they made, and every stealthy step they took, became the most natural motions for them to make.
“Take care to remember, little ones,” their mother would say, “the savannah is a big and dangerous place, where you have to stand up for yourselves, feed yourselves and look after yourselves. You must learn and heed all the skills you are being taught, in order to survive.”

Soon the cubs were starting to hunt mice and little creatures together. They would wait and pounce as a team, watch each other, and share in their victories and losses. They trusted and helped each other. Together they felt safe, and the savannah didn’t seem like such a dangerous place. After a long day of practising and learning, they would come together near their tree and talk about how wonderful their futures would be.

“I’m going to be the best hunter ever. Everyone in the savannah will know the name Nkosi” said Amathemba’s brother.
“I’m going to be the best climber ever, and climb the highest tree I can find,” said Amathemba, “I also want to be like mother,” she would say, “Elegant, skilful and proud.”
Often the cubs would go into great detail as to how they would accomplish their dreams. They would look up at the African stars that echoed eternity above them, and dream of glory and success.

Soon, however, they came of age and their mother sat down with them.
She said: “You are now at the age where you need to go out and achieve what you have dreamed of. You need to face the savannah and live your own lives.” She sounded strong and sad at the same time. “Tonight will be your last night in our tree. Tomorrow you will venture off into the savannah to use all the skills you have learnt. You must always learn from your mistakes and take your lessons through to each day that follows. Practise discipline and respect in all that you do; and remember that no matter how hard life may seem, or how difficult tasks may become, you will always get through it and see another sunrise.”

The cubs didn’t talk much that night. Instead they lay close to their mother, barely sleeping a wink. Tomorrow’s new beginning was not going to be easy. Suddenly the savannah, which had once seemed like a wonderful place to learn and play in, now seemed to have lost all its jovial appeal to become an all consuming home to the darkest nights, the scariest animals and a vast expanse of choices. They understood that it was time to part ways. Their mother had to move on and so did they, but understanding didn’t make acceptance easy.

Amathemba put her paw on her brother’s, “Are you awake?” she whispered.
“Yes,” came the reply, “I’m thinking about tomorrow.”
“Me too,” Amathemba was relieved, “I’m scared brother.”
“Ah Amathemba, you have no need to be scared. Mother has given us the skills we need to take on the savannah and make the best of our lives. You must not look on this adventure with fear; you must look at it as an opportunity to live your dreams. We could never achieve our dreams if we stayed with mother, because mother worries and she needs time to herself now.”
“Thanks brother, I think that is very wise. Your confidence will be your saving grace, and perseverance will be mine.” Amathemba smiled, she was very blessed to have such a wise brother. She was going to miss him greatly.
“Brother, when will I see you again?”
“My sister, your dream is to climb the tallest tree in the savannah. The warthog told me that if you follow the sunset, then you will find the tallest tree. The greatest herd of Wildebeest will be near there every autumn. I promise I shall meet you at that tree every autumn. As mother says:” all that a leopard truly has to give from their heart is their word of honour”; and you have mine Amathemba.”
“And I give you mine,” Amathemba said with a sincerity purer than the freshest rain.
With that both leopards fell into slumber.

The sun rose in a euphoric euphony with the savannah’s birdsong and morning calls. A cool breeze gusted above the ground and through the trees. The colours of the sky blended through navy to pale blue in an accent of yellow, pink and orange hues; the dawn of the day and the start of a journey. The leopards said their farewells and moved off into the savannah.

The day was hot. Amathemba moved through the savannah during the morning and found a tree to shelter her from the midday heat. She slept in the branches until hunger woke her. She managed to catch some dinner and eat her full. Then she began to follow the hues into moonlight until she needed to sleep. She found a tree and made her way to the most comfortable branch.

She didn’t sleep at all that night. The darkness around her was a cacophony of sounds she didn’t know. Perhaps they had always been there, but she had never stopped to listen? Perhaps they were new sounds, threatening sounds, and she needed to stay alert? She didn’t know the answer. All she knew was that the sounds of the savannah had become louder, harsher and more erratic than she had ever experienced before.

Each night Amathemba experienced the same feelings of fear and tension. Her body started to take strain and her hunting ability deteriorated. The only thing that gave her strength was her dream to climb the tallest tree, and the expectation of seeing her brother again in the autumn.

After a fortnight, Amathemba was trying to catch a mouse when she was overcome by a very strange smell. The smell was unlike any other she had smelt before. It was strong, potent and had a sharp edge that seemed to bite at her nostrils. The smell overwhelmed her and the mouse got away. Amathemba tried to change direction to a place where the smell wasn’t so potent, but everywhere she turned her nose met with affliction. She felt her weak body battling to defend itself. Slowly she crawled to a spot where she gratefully gasped in oxygen. As her breathing evened she closed her eyes to concentrate on stabilising herself. Then a voice rang in her ears: “Who are you?”

Startled she leapt back in fear; claws outstretched and teeth bared, ready, with every milligram of energy she had left, to attack. Soon she focused on the source of the voice, a young lion. He repeated, more softly this time, “Who are you?”
Amathemba hesitated, and then answered slowly, “Amathemba.”
“What are you doing here?” continued the lion.
Too tired to fight his enquiry, she answered, “I am heading into the sunset to find the tallest tree in the savannah.”
“Well Amathemba, you have a long way to go. I highly doubt that you will make it in the state that you are in,” he said looking at her fur, her skinny middle and her exhausted face.
“I have only just left my home and I have been battling to sleep in the strangeness of the savannah.” Amathemba sighed heavily and returned to the ground to concentrate once more on her breathing.
The lion looked towards the bush, then back at Amathemba, “Stay here, I will return.”

Amathemba felt an unexplainably overwhelming comfort in the strength of this stranger. He could have eaten her, or chased her off, as soon as her saw her; but he hadn’t. He had given her permission to stay where she was. He had told her he would return. Her mind let go of its tension, her body seemed to melt into the earth and all the horrifying sounds of the night became a lullaby in the comfort of her release.

Amathemba awoke to the smell of a freshly caught duiker.
“Eat,” was the response of the lion as he went back into the bush behind him. Amathemba didn’t need to be told twice. She consumed the duiker with the passion of a patriot and the hunger of a starving animal. She finished, licked her lips and cleaned herself thoroughly.
“Thank-you,” she said to the lion on his return, “I am in your debt.”
“No, you aren’t. I have also been in your situation, and a kindly cheetah assisted me. He told me that cats are the owners of the savannah; we have to look after each other when we can. No matter our fur difference, our scent difference or our territory borders.
He told me that respect for the life of the savannah is the base of life sustenance, and not a fuel for fear. He told me that fear is an energy drainer, which accomplishes nothing constructive and destroys passion and the desire to go forth and achieve.
The more we respect, the less we fear, and the more we can achieve.
You can show me your thanks by moving on to achieve your dreams.” He turned to leave.
“Wait,” Amathemba called, “The smell by your bushes, what is it?”
“That is the marking of my territory. Every time you cross a territory border you will know by the smell. Be careful Amathemba. Most cats haven’t learnt the life lessons I have.” With that he disappeared into the bush.

Amathemba continued her journey to the tallest tree. Each day she reminded herself of what she had learnt and she slowly began to conquer her fear of the night. Her energy levels increased and she became a skilled hunter. She maintained her respect for all the savannah and never took more than her full, the hyenas and vultures ravaged whatever was left over; and she always kept a safe distance away from marked territories.

The days seemed to mould into one another as Amathemba continued her journey. She travelled a far distance, with only talkative birds to tell her how near she was to her goal. Surely it was good news that she was nearing her goal? Surely she should be happy? But she wasn’t. As each dawn arrived Amathemba felt herself growing sadder and sadder. She felt her only choice was to heed her mother’s words and carry on, because tomorrow would host another sunrise, and maybe that day would be better. Unfortunately, for weeks, the days weren’t any better at all. They seemed to be getting longer and harder. Amathemba couldn’t understand it. Her hunting ability was excellent now. Her love and respect for the savannah had grown so greatly that she felt at home in every sunset and every tree. So if everything was going right, then why was she so unhappy?

It was another very hot late summer’s afternoon when Amathemba arrived at a massive savannah watering hole. She approached the mass of water slowly through the long brown grass and looked around for other predators and possible dinner menus. As she scanned the watering hole in the light of the dusk she saw numerous animals. A family of elephants were drinking and cleaning on the far right. A wide range of buck were scattered in groups of about 10 at different edges of the water. Amathemba could see giraffe amongst the trees, accompanied by their zebra friends. All the trees were filled with birds of every variety. There was a soft and full murmur of conversation that seemed to hum over the water. Some gossiping, some whispering, some laughing and giggling, even a bit of concern and strict instruction.

It seemed that the youngest elephant wouldn’t let his mother wash behind his ears. His mother was telling him off whilst his grandfather felt sorry for him. A group of springboks were splashing each other with water and trying to spring out of the way. The giraffes’ jokes and laughter were moving on the wind down to where Amathemba watched the wildlife who were enjoying themselves in front of her.

A little family of warthogs, who were closest to Amathemba, were talking about meeting a leopard who was travelling far to become the best hunter in the savannah … Amathemba was startled – Nkosi?

Cautiously Amathemba stepped out of the long grass and moved towards the warthogs, to ask them about her brother. As soon as they saw her – their tails went up and they scattered. Amathemba felt her heart ache. Slowly she looked up at the animals around her; they were all standing at attention looking at her, ready to bolt. Amathemba didn’t want to interrupt their family time. She didn’t want to scare them. She realised that all she wanted to do was talk to them, anyone of them. Gracefully she went to the waters edge and thirstily drank her full. The animals around her hadn’t moved from their statues. She sat back and stared at all the families around her and experienced the deepest longing she had ever felt before. With pride in her accomplishments so far, elegance in her respect for the wildlife and an understanding of the root of her unhappiness; she turned and chased the sunset to find her brother, her tree, and her dream.

Her journey took another two weeks. Each day she covered more ground and eventually it felt like she had grown wings on her feet. She chased each sunset as if the survival of her soul depended on it.

On the fourteenth day the sun had already set and Amathemba realised it was time to find a tree for the evening. The night was darker than usual because the skies were full of thick clouds. A few metres ahead Amathemba saw a tree with a very thick and strong trunk. ‘Fantastic!’ she thought, ‘If it rains, then this tree will keep me well protected’. She started her climb and sleekly manoeuvred herself through the dense branches, until she reached a branch that was the exact length of her body and was facing in the direction of the sunrise. She made herself comfortable and fell into slumber.

The rays of the morning sun broke through the dissipating clouds, like Zulu spears piercing disintegrating foam. Amathemba humbly watched the symphony of colour explode before her.

“Beautiful isn’t it?”
Amathemba turned to the old voice perched on a branch above her. “Yes,” she replied, “Magnificent.”
The owl turned its saucer-like eyes towards the display of light and started to prepare itself for its daily sleep.
Amathemba looked at the owl and couldn’t help asking, “Do you know how far it is to the tallest tree in the savannah?”
The owl looked at her, “What do you mean?”
‘Well if this is the wisest animal in the savannah, then someone has got their branches crossed!’ she thought. Of course she didn’t say it aloud. Instead she said, ”I’ve been told that there is a tree in the savannah that is taller than any other. It is so tall that it almost touches the clouds.”
The owl smiled at Amathemba. “Yes, I know that, dear. Do you mean how far is it to the top?”
Amathemba wasn’t sure what the owl meant, “I suppose,” she answered.
“Well, then,” the owl said officially, “I’d say it’s about 20 more branches up.”
Amathemba gasped and nearly fell off her branch.
She looked down and then up again.
Then the realisation dawned on her as brightly as the sunrise had. She started to climb the last few branches until she reached the very top. She sat up there all morning scanning the incredible views below. She saw the savannah all around her and her chest swelled with a greater pride than she had ever experienced.

At midday she ventured back down the tree for lunch. When she was content she climbed back to her branch near the sleeping owl for an afternoon nap. Upon awakening she turned to see the sun setting in the west. She blinked and looked closer. Two silhouettes were moving towards her tree. She quickly climbed down the tree and ran to the figures. Her instinct had been right – it was her brother. In a joy that exploded from the depths of her soul, and was encouraged by every muscle in her body, she hugged Nkosi for a time that would never seem long enough. Tears of joy and relief streamed down her face. “Oh Nkosi, it is so good to see you, my brother. I have so much to tell you.”
“And I to tell you, Amathemba,” he replied in the comforting way that only a brother has, “But first things first,” he continued, ”This is Nyala. She is pregnant with our first cubs.”
Nyala bowed her head to Amathemba, “I am glad to finally meet the great sister of Nkosi,” she said humbly.
Amathemba blushed. “Hardly great,” Amathemba denied Nyala’s misperception, “I hope to be great one day.”
“Ah sister, still denying your brilliance I see.” Nkosi smiled at her, “From what the savannah has told me, you have achieved all of your dreams.”
“Dear brother, the savannah is telling you stories. It was only this morning that I climbed this tree,” Amathemba clarified.
“And over the past months you have achieved the other half of your dream too. You have journeyed with pride, elegance and skill, just like mother.” Nkosi said knowingly.
“How would you know how I have journeyed?” Amathemba asked confused.
“The warthogs told me,” he winked at her.
“The warthogs?” He couldn’t still be friends with the warthogs; could he? “But how?” Amathemba queried.
“It’s a matter of mutual trust, sister, but that is a story for another time. Please come and feast with us. I have achieved my dream too.”