My Africa

My Africa

I dried the Kudu Meat in my office

I grew up in the wide outdoors or veld as we call it in South Africa.

I could spend days outdoors and sleep under the stars on the beach

or in the bush. There was always food abundant to collect

and water if you knew where to find it. I carried an air gun

or BB gun as some call it and I was a skilful hunter

of small birds and rodents and the like.

I ate tortoises and snakes just because I could

And even a field mouse, once. I was mostly alone

 Sometimes village boys would join me without invitation

 it did not matter if we understood each other.

That is Africa’s way we understand Mother Africa.

We know our wildlife and we do not fear it. We know when to

stand our ground and when to retreat. We know the signs of

nn imminent attack and we respect it and stay safe.

I watch the programs of people “surviving” in the wild

For a period of time. We call it camping and it is a natural

part of our lifestyle. Villagers live alongside game in peace

mostly and know how to survive. African men in certain

parts of Africa have to kill a lion,

 only armed with a spear tp prove their manhood.

In South Africa some boys of some tribes go to the bush in the middle

of winter to be circumcised and suffer hardship to become men.

I went on a hunt with seasoned hunters, they have

been hunting for 16 years. I have never before hunted

big game and never owned a high powered  rifle.

They called me lucky or fortunate because

I killed two Kudu with two shots in successive years

and never invited me again. You see they grew up in cities

they do not own the veld, you can only own it when you

know it intimately; it has nothing to do with luck.

I am an accurate shot you have to be when you are hungry

and you have to be able to stalk because you know

your prey and how it would react and where to find it

during a certain time of day. Those men shut me

out when I started ribbing them for wasting a lot of shots

and shooting the game to ribbons so that little meat

was still edible. It was their arrogance and pride

that prevented them from success. That and

their lack of knowledge and experience

 of their environment. It has nothing to do with

luck. I talked to nature all the time I was there.

I valued it and was grateful for it and I meditated

and talked to it and prayed out of gratitude

for it. It is in me, the African bush is in me

 No one could have taught me but myself. I spoke

to the Kudu in my bed at night and got up before sunrise

My tracker tried to talk me out of trying a Kudu first up.

“That one is a devil, you will not find him.”

I wanted  to tell him, if that was the case,

 I shall let it find me and it did twice.

He told me out of years of experience. I respected him

and rewarded him after the hunt.

He was as surprised when I did the same the next year.

He did not expect the Mlungu (white man) to

have Mother Africa in his heart.

I  talked to the bush and prayed and blessed

the game I was about to hunt. The result

two clean shots, one to the heart and one to the head.

every time I nominated my kill and every time I consumed

the entire animal and was grateful for the

opportunity afforded me.

They were not hunting,

some were and was successful others were just shooting

at everything that moved. It is all about respect

and of, what I call the knowing.

These things cannot be explained or taught they must

be learned in the bush through experience and hardship.

I want to appeal to everyone that comes to Africa to come

In the right frame of mind.  Respect nature, learn from the indigenous

and I shall guarantee you an experience that will enrich

your life and will be so profound you will never forget it.