Category: Journal

Am I the only one who didn’t know that Agama Lizards are cannibals? The other day, I was standing on our balcony when down below I noticed an Agama Lizard battling something large in its mouth. At first glance, I assumed the lizard was trying to eat a super-sized insect of one kind or another, but something didn’t seem quite right about that supposition. A look through the binoculars revealed that the lizard had a caught another lizard and was attempting to eat it! I dashed outside, camera in hand, and this is the scene which transpired before my lens: a large male Agama Lizard (dull in colour without his breeding coat of many colours) in gruesome slow motion devouring a smaller Agama Lizard:

The one that got away! This little Agama Lizard (above), the same size as the victim, watched the proceedings from a safe distance while one of its brethren was slowly and methodically eaten by another, much larger one.

This happening brought to mind a scene I had witnessed a couple of weeks earlier involving another rapacious reptile and its reptilian prey. Somehow this story, though no less violent for the victim, seemed somehow more picturesque to the observer (how shallow I can be!).

This is a Speckled Sand Snake making off with its latest victim, a female Five-lined Skink. We get a lot of these sand snakes in this neck of the woods – they’re long, thin snakes with pretty markings and they’re totally harmless to humans. And as you all know, we have no shortage of skinks here either, which can also go head to head in the beauty stakes with any other reptile you care to mention. This particular snake is a resident here and we often see it hunting outside the house. It’s an expert little predator and lizard eater.

Look at how the blue of the skink’s tail matches the blue of the snake’s scales:

You can see the bulge in the snake’s neck as it swallows the skink whole:

And now for something entirely more gruesome… This morning I found a dead gecko on our balcony, but I was by no means the first to notice it. A colony of ants had already moved in, partially devoured the gecko and was now moving it – and with incredible speed considering the size of the load in comparison to that of the hauliers.

These pictures below (taken within a few short seconds) show the movement of the gecko under carriage of the ants:

And here’s something especially macabre for the boys: a quick close-up look at the eaten-out eye sockets of the hapless gecko…but before we condemn the ants for their brutality, let’s not forget – as with so many stories here at Kulafumbi – what is one creature’s loss turns out to be another’s gain, and I for one wouldn’t want our ants to go hungry. After all, where would we all be without these fastidious insects to clean up after us, carry away detritus and keep our environment clean?…

The Martial Eagle is an impressively large eagle, with dark brown head, upper body and wings, a speckled white chest and powerful white legs, equipped with enormous deadly talons.

A few days ago, I was sitting on the balcony just after lunch when I heard the Dik-diks down below shriek out their warning whistles. As I looked up, a massive eagle swooped by me at eye-level, and before the Dik-diks were able to reach the safety of the undergrowth, the eagle hit one on the back of the head with the full force of its great weight and huge talons – and the little antelope was dead.

Probably nervous at being so close to our house, the Martial abandoned its kill almost immediately (though it stayed in sight, surveying the surroundings from a large baobab tree to make sure no other eagle stole its prize), and then at around 5.30pm, when things had quietened down, it returned to feed.

…

This story begins with a wedding…well, that’s not entirely true: this story begins with the history of my childhood and with a vision, conceived long before that…but the wedding seems an appropriate place to start for me – after all, it was my wedding.

On 22nd September 2007, I married Ian on the balcony of the house my father built in our very own piece of paradise, bordering the Tsavo National Park in Kenya and overlooking the confluence of the Athi and Mtito rivers. The house is named ‘Kulafumbi’, which in Kiswahili means “eat dust”, a reference to the conditions in this tinder-dry, remote part of Kenya.

This house where Ian and I now live (whose style is indescribable – the Flintstones meet unconventional Moorish influences meet organic eco-building) began as a dream – my father’s dream to own a piece of land and build a house overlooking a river in Africa. We all grew up in Africa, you see – my father has been on this continent since he was seven years old, and my brother and I have spent our whole lives here – give or take a few years.

This – our corner – is a piece of wilderness, peopled by Africa’s majestic wildlife, from elephants and buffalo to hippos and crocodiles, a bewildering myriad of birds, insects, amphibians and reptiles. It’s a chunk of grey thorny bushland bordered by a river of unparalleled beauty, fringed by white sand banks, Doum Palms and Fig Trees – a meandering green oasis line through the dry country. Overlooking this river sits the house with its breathtaking views – like a widescreen TV permanently set to the National Geographic channel.

Kulafumbi – the house and the land – truly is a paradise and we are lucky to live here and call it our home – unspeakably lucky. But paradise comes at a price, I have learned, and not always a financial one. Ian and I fought our private battles in our decision to come back here to Africa, the place where our hearts return to, time after time, no matter where we are in the world. We have just spent three years in Scotland and, for me in particular, for very personal reasons, it was a difficult decision to come back home. Ultimately, after all the deliberations and heartache, it all came down to this: If you have the chance to live an extraordinary life, you have to take it, whatever the cost. The alternative, which is to choose the mundane, is not life, in the real sense of the word… If you’ve got the chance, you’ve got to take it.

So, here we are now, Ian and I, newly married (though not newly acquainted), in our magical home called Kulafumbi. Every day, whichever direction you look or travel from the house, nature is playing out her many dramas. This is where life happens. The natural world, one soon comes to realise, is the cornerstone of everything.

In words and pictures, I’m going to try to share it with you, this Nature’s Paradise, and introduce you to our many cohabitants – you might call them neighbours – the myriad residents of the river and its environs, the trees and plants, both indoors and out, the animals who have moved into our house with us, and those who pass by unseen in the night – come on this journey with me, and you’ll soon get to know them all.…