Namibia takes its name from The Namib Desert. Indeed, the name ‘Namib’ means ‘vast place’ which is the perfect way to describe the country. The desert itself is believed to have existed for at least 55 million years, making it the world’s oldest. It stretches for roughly 1,243 miles along the Atlantic coast of Africa, spanning Namibia, South Africa and Angola. In the local Nama language, Namib means ‘an area where there is nothing’. It has some of the highest sand dunes in the world, most notably in Sossusvlei. It is also home to the largest canyon in Africa, known as the Fish River Canyon. There is a lot of space in Namibia given its one of the least crowded countries on the planet. As of 2020 its population is estimated to be 2.5 million inhabiting a country that is 318,261 square miles in size. To put that in context England has a population of approximately 56 million (as of 2020) inhabiting 50,337 square miles. Namibia’s population speak a total of 30 different languages. While English is the official language less than 1% of the country’s population speak it as their first language. Nearly half the population speaks Oshiwambo dialects, while the other main languages are Afrikaans, Herero and German.
After breakfast the next day we packed up and made the three-and-a-half-hour journey to Okonjima Game Reserve. We had reached the final few days of our trip to Namibia, and what a way to finish. Similar to Erindi, we managed to see Kudu, Impala, Eland, Springbok, giraffe and warthog all before arriving at the camp and checking in. During our check in we were introduced to who may well have been our best guide of the trip; Juuso. Forever kind and attentive, he was extremely knowledgeable and described the species of plants and animals we saw as well as Okonjima’s conservation efforts with enthusiasm. After getting settled in our rooms it was a quick turnaround before the first game drive in the reserve.
Okonjima is well known for its leopards, and it was here I was most hoping we would have the opportunity to see them. We were on the search for a big male known as Mowenzi. Using the same telemetry tracking as Erindi and, after searching for a couple of hours with no luck, we changed tack to look for Mowenzi’s partner Electra. This led us to a different area of the reserve and, once again planning ‘ping’ tennis with the animal’s radio collar, the sound got louder as we got tantalisingly close. Following the trail, we had driven up a steep riverside in our search, when we called to Juuso that, what we assumed was Electra, was walking along the bottom of the dry river. As we got down to the riverbed Electra had moved but our eyes were peeled. All of a sudden, a leopard came walking along the side of the river on the opposite side to us. Notably smaller without a radio collar, Juuso informed us this was one of two one-year old cubs Electra was raising. What then transpired was an awful lot of calls from me saying “could we move a little bit closer”, “can we move back a little bit” as I tried to get the best positions to photograph them. I have mentioned Juuso was attentive - this is where that trait really cemented his abilities as a guide in my mind. I’m sure he was glad to be rid of me by the end!
The following morning the plan was a focus on conservation. Okonjima had to separate their small cheetah population from the main reserve due to predation by leopards. So Juuso explained we would visit their area of the reserve first thing and then we would head on to visit the AfriCat Foundation. We managed to see five cheetahs - they were resting when we found them, keeping out of the heat of the sun. Eventually they got up and went for a wander, before two found a perfect resting spot on top of a mound.
Okonjima’s logo is the cheetah. Founded in 1991, the AfriCat Foundation and Okonjima are synonymous. The foundation is dedicated to long-term conservation of Namibia’s wildlife, with a primary focus on cheetah, leopard, Brown Hyena and pangolin. Okonjima was actually the name of a farm in 1970 and the family that owned it continued to run it as a farm, together with additional income from trophy hunters, for some time. When the family recognised that, despite shooting and hunting leopards which killed their livestock, little impact was being made in reducing the deaths of their cattle, they decided to change course. So Okonjima became a 124 square mile private nature reserve. The primary goal was to restore the land to its former glory and provide a haven for wildlife. The foundation is a non-profit organisation to promote welfare which has evolved into providing education to farmers and schools on the importance of predators and wildlife as well as research projects in this long-term goal. Today (or in 2020 at least) their focus is now primarily on education rather than rescuing animals.
It is often the unexpected experiences that bring about most joy, partly because they’re unexpected I guess, and on our second to last day (14th November 2019) I was fortunate to have one of these experiences. We were back at camp having lunch. The camp overlooked a large pond at the end of a garden. Beyond that was the familiar orange/brown landscape of dried dirt that dominated a lot of Namibia. Animals from around the area would come to this pond as a welcome source of water. The one species we saw the most here were warthogs. While most of them had a drink and a roll-around in the mud, during lunch a couple of warthogs ventured further by swimming into the pond. They were after the lotus leaves growing on the surface, and one in particular gorged on them. Abandoning my lunch, I grabbed the camera and proceeded to crawl across the garden towards them, doing my best not to spook them. I managed to get to the water line and chuckled to myself watching the scene before me unfold. Never would I have guessed that, prior to the trip, I would have had an experience like this.
On top of the ‘surprising’ lunch visitors the afternoon game drive that day was, for me, by far the best during our time at Okonjima. Juuso, our ever-diligent guide, explained we would try to find a male leopard and showed us on a map where we would be heading. We saw an African Hawk Eagle and White-Backed Vulture on the way, but no tell-tale ‘ping’ on the telemetry gave away this leopard’s location. Juuso, on a whim and a stroke of genius, decided to change frequency and look for Mowenzi; the large male leopard we had failed to see the previous day. Extremely fortunate for us the ‘ping’ was loud. We found him not far away lying down behind a dead Oryx. It was clear he had made a kill recently, perhaps the previous day. Keeping a decent distance, we were able to watch him eat, crunching bones and ripping away at the meat, all the while a hoard of flies buzzed around the carcass and the eye-watering stench of rotting flesh floated its way towards us. For me, I didn’t care at the unpleasantness of the smell. I was overwhelmed with the excitement of having come across a huge male leopard with a kill. Just as I explained before, this was definitely an unexpected experience for the trip and one that will go down as a main highlight.
Once Mowenzi had had his fill he ventured off into the bush, so we continued on. Juuso was aiming for a waterhole not far away to see if any wildlife was there. On arriving at the waterhole and having become accustomed to the smell of rotting animal, we immediately knew we were in the presence of another carcass. Sure enough another Oryx lay dead in front of us; the culprit a Spotted Hyena. The only remaining one of its kind in the reserve. I was in for another surprise here - Juuso asked if we’d like to step out of the jeep to get a little closer. Only I opted for this, perhaps foolish, chance. Juuso reassured me he had a stick if anything should go wrong. It didn’t do much to abate any nervousness, but I saw it as an opportunity to get low level images of this animal and one I couldn’t pass up. The Hyena barely moved at all during this time, clearly stuffed from a recent meal of Oryx.
The afternoon drive wasn’t over however, and we continue on to see anything else we could come across. Not long after the Spotted Hyena encounter, off into the distance, we spotted something looking very similar moving along. As we got a little closer Juuso identified it as a Brown Hyena. I could barely believe our luck. Yet again another ‘near threatened’ species, the global population of these animals has dropped to below 10,000, and the rarest of all hyena species. Indeed, Sir David Attenborough describes them as one of Africa’s rarest predators in the recent Seven Worlds, One Planet documentary. The AfriCat Foundation launched a research project on the species in 2018 to look at the threats they face and how to ensure their survival. We managed to catch up with this individual in beautiful evening light and simply just watched.
As if that wasn’t enough, so engrossed in watching the Brown Hyena, we failed to notice a group of three giraffe heading our way. The sun was setting, so we decided this would become the perfect place to stop and enjoy a sundowner. For those that don’t know, a sundowner is a term used to have a drink and watch the sunset on a game drive, before returning to camp for dinner. Personally, I think sundowners should be a common feature of most days, and it seemed a great way to end an amazing afternoon. Even better, the giraffes stopped not far away to eat vegetation from the surrounding trees, perfectly silhouetted against a beautiful African sunset. Our trip to Namibia was complete.
We still had one more day left before our return journey to the UK, and one more chance to look for leopards. We had been very lucky to this point, and our last day gave a taste of perhaps what it was really like looking for them. Juuso explained we would be heading to an area of the reserve we hadn’t explored so far on the search of a female called Lola. After a lot of back and forth listening to the ‘pings’ (I thought I’d end up hearing ‘pings’ in my sleep at this rate) and trying to find ways through the thicket, we eventually gave up. She was frustratingly close, but there was no way of getting to wherever she was. The foliage was just too thick. Juuso changed frequency to look for Lola’s three-year-old daughter called Vamoosh.
She wasn’t far away, and we caught up with her as she walked at the bottom of a small ravine, disappearing out of sight occasionally as she navigated the twists and turns. After a while she popped up to our level but ventured further into the impenetrable thicket. We managed fleeting glimpses but nothing like what we had experienced so far, and really made us realise just how lucky we were. Still, we carried on trying to follow her from distance and eventually she appeared out in the open taking a rest. The light was fading fast, but it was lovely to finally see her in a clearing. Juuso was very keen for us to have a final sundowner before heading back to camp. It was our last day in Namibia after all. In Juuso’s efforts to find Lola we had developed a slow puncture. So our last sundowner was part drink part car repairs.
We made an uneventful journey home, once again making a ‘pit-stop’ in Luanda in Angola before landing in Amsterdam, and then on to Manchester. My thoughts weren’t on the journey home though, only on what we had been so privileged to see over the last 17 days. Thanks for taking the time to read this rather ‘mammoth’ blog! I hope it gives an insight into what Namibia is like.
Note - you may have noticed a distinct lack of anything about Rhinos in this blog. This is on purpose and, while we did see both the ‘near threatened’ White Rhino and the ‘critically endangered’ Black Rhino, I don’t want to give their location away. Moreover, we were asked by guides during the trip not to disclose the location for fear of poachers. Both species are endangered thanks to poaching for their horns. Poaching is predominantly to meet the demand of Asian markets in China and Vietnam for traditional medicine, believed to cure anything from asthma to cancer. This couldn't be further from the truth however, as their horns are made of keratin (the same stuff as our hair).