LOVE LIONS ALIVE by Andi Rive

My chest is tight and I have a cough, it is more of a throat cough than a chest couch, it only lasts for an hour or 2 in the early hours of the morning and is accompanied by sneezing. It is clearly only the beginnings of an ordinary cold. But I am not at all happy with this situation.  I have not come into contact with many people in the past 6 days as the whole country is in lockdown.  On the last day out before Lockdown, we went to town because we had just read on the farmers’ group that all farmers should get a signed letter from the Farmers’ Union declaring us to be farmers and therefore engaged in critical activities. We had to present our copy of the letter to Advocate George Galloway at the Farmers Co-op where he would be sitting to sign from 10am to 11am on Thursday. But first we had to type and print our individual letter which was amended to specify our work as being that of "Lion Carers". In order to type and print, we had to go to our local computer s...

Bolts are are being bolted and keys turned in locks. The people of South Africa are locking themselves inside their homes as of today. In our case it is a matter of zipping up the tent. I can hear the lions romping and running, their feet pounding on the earth the sound reverberates through the canvas walls. I hear two of them have a tussle, lion moans turn into a few quick growls answered by snarls. Lions do this, they have spats, the thing is that spats from large cats are more intense in sound than that usually heard in alleys. But it is quickly over and the snarls evolve into roars. The royal proclamation is take up by surrounding lions and within seconds, 6 of the lions are in full roar. The baboons answer in a frenzy of screeches. I can hear rocks hitting rocks as the baboons throw smaller ones down onto the boulders below. Birds of a dozen varieties whistle and sing. In fact, as I listen I am amazed at the number of sounds I can here from my lock down spot in the tent. There ...

 Fetching carcasses for the lions    I’m sitting on a log in the shade of a shed on a game farm in Zululand, writing whilst carcasses are being loaded onto the truck. I don't have a photo which captures the beauty of the landscapes I describe. So here I am writing this blog. It was Woman’s Day, a National holiday, but I had been called to collect 2 dead cows down in Kwa-Zulu Natal. I very reluctantly left Bell Street where I was spending the midweek holiday with Shanead. My parents were in Jhb where my Dad was both consulting with his patients as well as consulting a heart specialist about his own symptoms and Phillipa was helping my sister Chantal with her divorce case. So Shanead was alone and we were enjoying the time in a proper house. She was cooking lunch for the two of us and at the same time working on a Biology project at the kitchen counter. Before leaving I needed to ascertain whether it was necessary for me to take the trailer or if the cows were s...