By Karen Paolillo

Last year Zimbabwe's problems concerned the world press. White "farmers" were killed and disaster stories always sell. Nowadays people are still dying, especially black people, but where are the headlines? What about nature? Africa is well known for its wildlife. Zimbabwe, up to two years ago, was a country visited by tourists to view the natural splendours like the Victoria Falls or make a visit to one of the many beautiful national parks. Tourists were coming in droves. Environmental studies were brought about due to too many people in certain areas, for example, the Falls. Now it is 2001 and what has happened to Zimbabwe?

There is the odd mention in the First World media spots but it is old news now, just another African country that is falling apart; the world doesn't really care. Yet there are those of us that live here, both black and white, that do care; in fact, we care so much that it is breaking our hearts. Intimidation is the name of the game, a common and everyday occurrence. Beatings and murders continue, but it is not so publicised anymore. If one does not carry the right party card, the police can stop a person at a roadblock, and if they feel like it, hurt him. Is this Africa or is it a bad dream from the cold war days?

Not only are humans in danger, but the animals. Mozambique and many other African countries lost their entire population of animals during their own wars, but wasn't that twenty or so years ago? Are we not now living in "progressive times"? Surely man learns from history. Sadly that is not the case. Dear, calm, happy, peaceful Zimbabwe is following in the steps of its neighbour Mozambique--no infrastructure, the economy collapsing further daily, people just barely surviving, and the animals, what about the animals?

Here in the Save Valley Conservancy supposed agreements have been reached. Top Ministers representing government have visited and talked; many meetings have been held. Some kind of mutual decision has been made, one that should benefit not only this million-acre wildlife area and the owners of that land, but the black people who live next door. The top men have told the people agreements have been made. They will get an extra 90,000 acres taken from this Conservancy to give to them, and Camp Fires will be organized to further benefit the people. Men from neighbouring villages will be brought in to work on repairs of the fence that surrounds this Conservancy. Promises are made, but reality is what is really happening. Poachers are running rampant, but not men poaching to feed their families, but hoodlums who open Pandora's Box so that they are the only ones who gain. After all, if they come into this wildlife area to kill the animals, who is going to stop them? We, who live here, are told that the leaders of the war veterans, the big men will stop this killing. We are told that they control these poachers; in fact, one the other day said, "They are only poachers; we can handle them" but that is not what happens on the ground.

For example, three weeks ago my husband and I were patrolling upstream of our home checking that all was safe for the hippos who are under our care. We find a freshly dead female kudu (an antelope) hanging from a snare. A snare is a wire noose attached to a tree which when the animal goes to browse a leaf finds its neck caught, pulls back and the noose tightens until the animal either breaks the attached wire and has a lingering death as the remaining noose chokes its life away or dies like in the case of this female attached to the wire hanging from its struggle to be free. 

We walked around the area and found another twenty snares with three more dead animals, two kudus and one impala. These animals had been dead for at least two weeks; no poacher had bothered to recover his spoil. We then found two snares set on the evening hippo path; fortunately, no hippo had used that trail. Then I saw movement to the right of the dead female. A shape appeared hidden in the grass: a live kudu female baby about seven weeks of age. She was nervous, like any wild animal, yet this animal's mother was hanging from a tree. We were the enemy, humans not to be trusted. For four days, I tried to gain her trust. If one chases a young baby, it can go into shock and die, but she still had enough life in her to run if my approach was too close. On the fifth day, she disappeared. Three weeks later, I went back into the area and there she was. She has survived: she is thin, very thin but alive and still lively enough to run away from the human enemy. I cannot save her; she has to take her chance. She may survive but may be stunted. Obviously, she browses or she would already be dead. In the meantime the owner of that piece of land sent his game scouts back to check for further snares: they found 131. 

For a few days, no more were located. The owner had removed his scouts because of what is happening in this Conservancy. Poachers now work in groups of up to thirty men. They scour an area, working singularly laying their snares or shooting with their bows and arrows at any bird or animal they see or using the catapults they all carry. They remove the meat as a group and make a great deal of money selling it to the highest bidder. 

Before anarchy reached our country, poachers were minimal, the odd man out for meat for his family, reprimanded and sent home and hopefully not returning. These days poaching is big business. The poachers say they are the bosses; they are the masters; they listen to no one, especially not the war veterans; they laugh at them. The police are on the side of lawlessness: if a scout tries to protect himself against a poacher, it is the scout who ends up in the jail, not the poacher. 

For example, two days ago, one group of game scouts, six in total including the headman a Ndebele from a different part of the country, were patrolling 2 kms from our home. They suddenly found themselves ambushed by twenty poachers who had sneaked up on them. Most of the scouts ran away, knowing that if they used their shotguns in defence, it would be they who ended up in jail. The Ndebele stood his ground, and the poachers grabbed him. They used a catapult from close range to shoot at his mouth, breaking off three of his front teeth. Then they then beat him around his head with sticks and set their dogs on him. Finally they let him go and told him, "We do not want you here. We can handle the Shona game scouts. They are afraid of us and run away, but you are trouble, so this is a warning. You leave your employment and go or you will die."

The war veteran leader saw this beaten scout and said he will stop this business once and for all; he is the law and the poachers will listen. Sadly, we have heard this before; nobody listens to anybody these days in Zimbabwe, and men just take advantage of the complete break down in law and order. Poachers actually call themselves war veterans, which they certainly are not. In the meantime, the Minister of Tourism wants tourists, both hunters and eco safaris. He tells owners of land that was used for both businesses that they will not have any problems: their clientele is safe. This nonsense must stop.

I work for hippos, not for money, not for business, not for safari purposes but for the animal, for its life. I see animals daily being killed and there does not appear to be any light at the end of this extremely long and dark tunnel. For those of us that work for love, the deaths of all of these animals, not for food but for greed and money, brings so much pain. Please spare a moment of your time and think about that baby kudu and please try and help this country to return to the peaceful land it was but a short while ago.