Potjiekos Ponderings | Previous Challenge Entry

how it works

TITLE: Potjiekos Ponderings | Previous Challenge Entry
By Corinne Smelker
04/23/20
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When we came back to basecamp that evening, carnage awaited us. Loaves of bread had been ripped from their plastic bags, and adorned the surrounding trees; tendrils of orange, pineapple, and watermelon were scattered amongst the tables, the tents, and all along the bonnet of the Land Rover. The worst part was the scat that intermingled with all the above.

Sara gasped, and looked over at me. I sighed. “Welcome to Africa. I thought we’d secured our foodstuffs but I guess these little blighters are even cleverer than I imagined.”
“Are we safe?” Sara glanced furtively around.
“Oh yes. They will be long gone. And as soon as we start a fire nothing will intrude.” I turned to Sipholong, my bush partner, best friend and husband. “Let’s get the fire started, and then we can clean up this mess.”
“Ok Anja,” he called over his shoulder, as he strode over to the Land Rover and pulled firewood out.
“You and I can start on cleaning up this mess,” I told Sara. Poor Sara couldn’t hide her disgust at having to pick up mangled, partly masticated food, even though she covered her hands with some discarded plastic bread bags. Mentally, I took note of her demeanour. Some volunteers for this programme start out weak, but then surprised me with their ability to work in the bush with no First World accouterments. Others fell apart. The jury was still out on Sara.

“What did this?” she asked as we efficiently cleaned up the mess.
“Baboons,” I replied. “They are one of the smartest species, and one of the most persistent. I have known them to travel for miles to wreak havoc in a camp. And the ones who live close to villages and towns are particularly clever. We were lucky today. We should have kept all the food in the back of the Land Rover, but thought we were far enough away from the one baboon colony we know is in the area. Lesson learnt. All the food will stay in the Ranger from now on.” Of course that meant the poor Rover would probably gain even more scratches and dents to its already poor appearance. Baboons are nothing but tenacious, and I knew they’d be back tomorrow to try their luck again.

After we’d cleaned up, the three of us set to making a simple dinner in our old and battered potjiekos. As the smell of vegetables stewing in the pot tantalized our senses, Sipho and I spent time going over the day’s events with Sara.

“Poaching is such a big problem out here, as you know,” Sipho explained. “Today’s job of counting the local elephants, and patrolling the area, is so important. Elephants really don’t have natural enemies, just us. Some people think we should just herd all elephants together and keep them safe in one place; but then we’d lose all this…” He motioned towards the bushveld, to the acacia trees, to the long grasses, and the brilliantly star-lit sky. “We cannot allow the rabid few to ruin this beauty for the rest of the world.”

Sara nodded in agreement. I knew that was why she’d joined the conservation volunteer group in the first place. It is how I got involved too. After high school I decided to take a gap year, and travelled from Oxford to South Africa. That was 15 years and a lifetime ago. In that time I’d completed my veterinary degree, met and married Sipho, and we joined a national African conservation group. Never would I have thought that a petite blonde British girl would tote around a rifle, a stun gun and the tools of my trade in the back of an ageing Land Rover, counting, caring for, and protecting elephants and other vulnerable wildlife.

As the night bowed to the sound of the bush, the crackle of the fire lulled me into a thoughtful frame of mind. Sara might or might not work out; but I knew, for me, I was living out the scripture that the Lord gave to me before I left Oxford 15 years earlier. At the time I thought it was a weird verse, yet here I was.

Proverbs 12:10 (NKJ) A righteous man regards the life of his animal, But the tender mercies of the wicked are cruel.

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This is a work of fiction but the baboons ravaging the camp happened to my family at least once in the bush!

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