Kasese, Uganda, 2007
As I stood at the rendezvous point, the horrors of thigh deep Rwenzori mud had already begun to fade to the extent that I impulsively wished we could all go back to Nyakalengija and re-live the experience.
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| Rwenzori trekking |
But no, it was time to move onwards. A very special adventure was next.
The bus appeared out the heat haze, pulled off the straight tarmac road and into the dusty layby. Esra introduced myself and two travelling companions to Mustafa, our new driver and we headed south across the acacia studded Ishasha plains. Twice we saw large troupes of baboon crossing the road ahead, but by the time we had closed the distance they had ducked into bushes lining the verge. The condition of the road was steadily deteriorating, with tyre ruts becoming deeper channeling the wheels and pulling against the steering. Mustafa, kept the vehicle under control, making small correcting adjustments and braking well in advance of deep suspension cracking pot holes. We juddered over a set of hardened mud corrugations.
“Are the roads this bad in England?” he asked.
For most of the time he had been quiet, eyes covered by a pair of dark sunglasses, while he concentrated on driving.
“No, people would really have something to complain about if they were like this.”
But before Mustafa had an opportunity to reply, he slammed on the brakes and I whipped my head round, expecting to see a lorry or some other hazard filling the windscreen.
At the same moment, he exclaimed “Leopard!”
And I saw the spotted body and thick, white tipped tail of a very big cat bound into the dense undergrowth. This was my first sighting of a leopard in the wild, I was thrilled just to catch a fleeting glimpse of its beautiful patterned coat and energetic physical presence.
“Wow, what a treat,” my voice raised an octave in excitement.
Then as we crested the brow of the next hill, a sight to behold tired eyes spread before us. Beyond the plain, the eastern shore of Lake Edward shimmered, flecks of reflected light sparkled on the surface. Even from our high position the far shore was still not visible, forty kilometres away.
There were few settlements of any notable size along the route, just the odd abandoned tin roofed hut. Yet, we regularly passed people riding bicycles in the heat of the day, apparently miles from anywhere and not carrying a water bottle. On the arduous surface we were travelling, a bicycle rider would be making good progress if he covered more than fifteen kilometres in an hour.
The first town we arrived at was Kikarara, where men clothed in clean well pressed suits accompanied women wearing brightly coloured dresses, some in the East African kanga and others in Edwardian style with voluminous leg-o-mutton sleeves. Children followed in their school uniforms. It was an eclectic mix, amongst the garage mechanics, stall attendants and poorer kids in little more than rags labouring under their loads of firewood. I realised it must be Sunday. Church services and Sunday School had just finished and now the congregation were making their way home.
A large open top army lorry approached from the from the direction of the Congo, stirring a cloud of red dust in its wake. The back was loaded with soldiers in full camouflage and armed with machine guns, an abrupt reminder of the border tensions.
Bwindi Impenetrable Forest
The village of Bwindi lay deep in the hills, south of lake Edward, at the edge of the Bwindi Impenetrable Forest National park. We were booked into the Kitandra camp for three nights. A delightful array of thatched banda huts and canvas safari tents pitched onto wooden platforms on terraces cut into the hillside, surrounded by exotic planting. Around the back of each tent was an open air bathroom, screened by bamboo matting. Stocked up with a bottle of coke, I kicked off my boots and relaxed into a directors style chair.
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| Photo: Stu Westfield |
The Bwindi park operates a system of permits to see the mountain gorillas, with a maximum of eight allocated to each gorilla family group. My travelling companions and I had hoped to keep together for the gorilla tracking. Unfortunately, despite his best negotiating efforts, Ezra could not secure three permits for the following morning. So, while they took their turn first, I opted to take the longest guided walk on offer along an old trade route called The Ivy Trail.
Trekking with Medi
My guide was a young recruit to the Ugandan Wildlife Service, called Medi Twongyeirwe. Two armed rangers, Alfred and Isaac, walked with us who also helped spot wildlife for me to photograph.
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| Medi. Photo: Stu Westfield |
“Isaac has very good eyes,” Medi informed me as he pointed out several L’Hoest’s monkey almost hidden high up in nearby trees.
Further along the trail, we saw red tail monkeys moving through the canopy. I was absorbed in watching them, when a group of people appeared from the Bwindi direction. The father at the front, followed by a young woman, talking with her mother, their children being very well behaved at the rear. Each carried a suitcase or small bag with a blanket roll. I moved to the side of the path, wished them a good morning and they continued on their way. A short time later another large group of people came, all dressed in their best, rather than for work in the fields.
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| Photo: Stu Westfield |
“This is a popular route,” I said.
“These people are returning home. Did you hear the music in Bwindi village yesterday?” Medi asked.
“Yes.” There had been some sort of jamboree, with enthusiastic singing and drums which could be heard in our camp.
“Every month the church organises a gathering, people come from all around. They have a meal and stay overnight.”
In the past the Ivy Trail had been used as a route to smuggle coffee over the border to the Congo, where the growers could get a better price. Nowadays it is a convenient path to the nearest village. We stopped for lunch where a river cut through the forest and a log footbridge spanned it to an enclosed meadow on the far bank.
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| Photo: Stu Westfield |
Medi had brought a flask of ugali, a type of liquid porridge ideal as both a drink and a meal to sustain a day’s hiking. Alfred and Isaac had nothing so I divided my sandwiches out amongst us. Medi kept on asking if I was feeling unwell, as if he was not used to seeing food from clients being shared. From the last of my Rwenzori rations I had a slab of fruit cake brought from home, which was particularly appreciated by Isaac. His face lit up and he nodded as he chewed on the currants.
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| Alfred & Isaac. Photo: Stu Westfield |
The steady traffic of people along the trail had scared off the monkeys, so on the way back we concentrated on the smaller creatures, seeing a large blue salamis, mother of pearl, butterfly and a land snail as big as my hand, crawling over a plant stem.
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| Photo: Stu Westfield |
Gorilla Trekkers Assemble
Over the course of a year, Bwindi hosts thousands of visitors. Each feeling very lucky to have obtained one of the much sought after permits and hoping that the moment they looked upon our distant cousins there would be some recognition of an intelligence on the same plane.
After the solitude of the Rwenzori, seeing so many other tourists was quite a culture shock. On the second morning I joined the next tracking group, waiting to be introduced to our guide. Standing in a semi-circle, it was rather like being on a parade of safari chique. I’ve worn my share of khakis whilst in Africa, but I’ve always managed to stop before adorning comical accoutrements such faux gun belts and intrepid Indiana Jones leather hat, completed with a feather quill. In the real jungle, nice new dudes don’t stay looking nice and new for long.
Many of the trekkers seemed perfectly fit and able, until we got out of the Landcruiser and headed into the forest. In this alien environment, they were incapable of walking more than a few paces on uneven ground without tripping and stumbling, as if the absence of tarmac had completely scrambled their sense of balance.
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| Photo: Stu Westfield |
At the edge of forest I heard one of the escorts say “Dakika kumi,” meaning ten minutes.
The locating of the Habinyanja gorilla family did not involve any tracking in the true sense of not knowing the whereabouts of the animal being sought out. What we actually saw was a role play with the head guide identifying examples of sign. The real trackers went out at first light and starting where the gorillas were last seen, followed their spoor until they located the new position, then radioed back to the guides as the clients were gathering at the park headquarters.
This method of operation meant clients with a wider range of physical abilities could be accommodated thus generating more income for the park’s upkeep. Also the additional time needed to escort visitors either side of their allocated one hour gorilla contact time was kept short, enabling the cost efficient deployment of rangers.
Bwindi, is undoubtedly a highly successful operation and the revenue generated by ecotourism has enabled the protection of the gorilla’s environment, along with the other primates that share the forest. The funds have also helped maintain national park security, as an effective deterrent to poaching and the bush meat trade as well as holding back the pressures of agricultural expansion.
With no sign of its popularity waning, I was aware that Bwindi could be in danger of being laid under siege by the very industry that sustains it. Paradoxically, my presence supported gorilla conservation while simultaneously increasing burden upon the park’s resources and environmental impact.
Mountain Gorilla Encounter
It was indeed ten minutes until we saw our first gorilla, received with a chorus of rapture from the clients. The dark shadow ahead stirred amongst a thick tangle of creeping vines, cracking the rotten twigs of fallen branches and rustling through a thick layer of brown leaves. It moved closer and took form, an outline of dense silky black fur which bristled as heavy muscles underneath flexed and retracted. I stood at the edge of a swampy depression in the forest floor, the ranger and other clients to my left. The air was filled with a heightened state of awareness, like standing near to high voltage cables. I felt reverence and respect for the presence which passed just a few metres below.
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| Photo: Stu Westfield |
Our guide used his parang to hack across a branch, then bent it away to reveal the silver saddle back of a fully adult dominant male browsing on green leaves. He sat unperturbed, turning his head abruptly to check our approach. The Habinyanja family was unusual in that it was headed by two silverbacks, who will eventually split to form two separate groups if the second silverback mounts an effective challenge for the right to his own harem. We paused, keeping to the seven metre distance which minimises behavioural disturbance to the gorillas and risk of their exposure to human borne diseases.
The male issued a low rumbling vocalisation before descending into a ravine, followed by two females. At a distance we followed them through the bog, walking across decaying logs which bridged the morass. Somebody slipped and sploshed into the mud and a low branch was allowed to loudly whip back, this was tough terrain for many of our group. Our approaching presence was well advertised to the gorillas.
On the far side of a bush a juvenile, possibly a yearling, sat on the ground eating yellow fruit. The automatic focus of my camera was confused by the intermediate sprigs of vegetation so I switched to manual and slowly moved sideways to find a clearer line of sight. The family gathered together on dry ground and settled in a loosely formed group. Gorillas spend forty percent of their time resting, the remainder divided between travelling and eating. The main periods of feeding are at the beginning and end of the day, interspersed with rest during the hottest hours.
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| Photo: Stu Westfield |
Screams of a tiny infant demanding to be picked up were placated when an older female arrived to suckle. Another baby, full of exuberance, continued to play with his drowsy elder brother, tumbling over his back then climbing up onto an low overhanging branch and launching himself onto his siblings head before rolling over again.
Nearest to me a sub-adult male lounged on a bed of leaf litter, his large brown eyes looked at me intensely. He relaxed when I bowed my head and submissively averted my gaze. When I watched him through the viewfinder of the camera, he remained unconcerned and felt safe enough to sleep in my presence. The head guide called our attention to the time and asked us to finish our photographs. The maximum we could spend with the gorillas was one hour, allowing them to be free from the curious humans for the remainder of the day.
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| Photo: Stu Westfield |
Having seen behaviour which could be interpreted as tenderness, tolerance and joy, one could think of the mountain gorilla in terms of human emotions. To do so would be wrong and anthropomorphic, although after watching their interactions at close quarters, I have no doubt that gorillas experience feelings and thoughts that are more significant than automatic and learned.
Future Conservation
There are only about six hundred mountain gorillas left in the wild, the greatest of the great apes, hemmed into a small enclave of high forest on the Rwanda, Congo, Uganda border region. It occurred to me that Bwindi National Park could be missing an opportunity for increasing its revenue. The sole purpose of most visitors entering Bwindi is to see the gorillas. For some of these people, tracking and trekking holds no interest and their enjoyment is concentrated in the one hour of contact time. They leave having fulfilled their ambition and are completely satisfied. Others may have physical limitations which means they are more comfortable with the existing guiding arrangements.
I considered the downplaying of the tracking element to represent a undervaluing of the gorilla experience as a whole. I left wanting to see more of the rangers’ craft and to have time to learn more about the wider ecology of Bwindi.
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| Photo: Stu Westfield |
I mulled over my ideal. A longer trek over several days, stopping in temporary, mobile bush camps, providing exciting opportunities to participate conservation projects and absorb the art of tracking at a natural pace. This would also give the client an increased likelihood of seeing other forest dwelling primates. The walk could even be in the style of a biological study, led by rangers, noting the wider flora and fauna of the jungle as the group progressed.
Moving between different gorilla families would give a purpose and structure to the expedition. Naturally, to protect the welfare of the gorillas, the park rules would have to be adhered to and enforced in the same manner as at present. This format would obviously have a great appeal to the more independently adventurous and lower maintenance eco-tourism client. The trek might start and finish with an overnight stop in a village, thereby benefiting a wider range of communities than just Bwindi.
Additional jobs would also be created in staffing the camps and providing logistical support. Revenue from the higher chargeable premiums might be used to fund the expansion of the park boundaries. A bigger range, supporting a larger number of gorilla families would bring the species an important step in the right direction away from endangered classification.
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| Photo: Stu Westfield |
I walked back to the Landcruiser mindful at the tragedy that these intelligent creatures, sharing 98% percent of our DNA, could be under such threat of extinction. Tourist revenue affords the mountain gorilla a high level of ranger protection, compared to other apes. Elsewhere in central Africa, body parts of lowland gorillas are openly on sale in markets, baby apes are being captured as exotic pets and adults are being shot by the small but persistently destructive trade in trophy hunting. Both the mountain and lowland gorillas deserve so much more from mankind than persecution.
Going home
It was early, barely light, as I stuffed the last of my things into my kit bag. I had sorted most of it out the previous evening after eating dinner, leaving little to do before breakfast. I unzipped the heavy canvas tent door and sat outside on the chair. Sounds of chatter and clanking pots drifted up from the village in the still air.
The direct route back to Entebbe took us through the landscape of Rukungiri where deep valleys and rolling hills had been completely deforested and given over to cultivation. Mustafa slowed down to allow a herd of long horned ankole-watusi cattle to cross the road. These bovids, descended from the ancient aurochs which became extinct in the seventeenth century, have the ability to digest poor quality food with limited amounts of water making them particularly suitable for East African farming.
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Photo: Stu Westfield
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In the fertile alluvium plains, a herd of Friesian cattle grazed, hemmed in by coppiced hedgerows and birch trees which could have been mistaken for the down land of southern England. We passed a lorry so over loaded with large bunches of freshly cut green matoke bananas, that the back leaned unsteadily over on the shot suspension as it cornered.
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| Photo: Stu Westfield |
The point of a four sided spire rose above the trees with the appearance of a typical stone built, slate tiled roof, cathedral. This was a mission church, its open arched walls actually built from kiln baked mud bricks and the roof fabricated from galvanised corrugated steel, pinned to timber joists. Without its congregation in attendance to bring it to life, it seemed out of place and incongruous, the empty void a sad pastiche seeking to emulate greater Christian works.
Further on, the Masaka police checkpoint, looked like a motorway toll booth without barriers. It acted as a staging post for busses large and small. Vendors, carrying biltong, bananas in large wood bowls and skewered kebab meat on blackened platters offered food up to bus windows in exchange for a few schillings. After the checkpoint, fish mongers sold tilapia and Nile perch from roadside stalls. They attracted the attention of passing drivers by holding their catch by the gills and waving it up and down.
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| Photo: Stu Westfield |
A mini bus jammed full of passengers overtook us with two tilapia tied onto the wing mirror. Laid out on open stalls, amongst the flies and in the heat, the fish wouldn’t stay fresh for more than a day unless it had been smoked. A few miles before Kampala, the equator was marked at the roadside with a white painted concrete hoop sculpture, into which each of us stood for our tourist photos.
As we continued into the city, traffic choked the streets, belching out fumes from un-serviced engines. It was a free for all, undertaking, driving on wrong side of road, double parked commercial vehicles and gridlocked unmarked junctions. Road workers blocked off one carriageway for resurfacing, not with cones, but with rocks. There was no contra flow, the opposing traffic had to share one lane causing chaos. My contact lenses felt as if they were melting in a chemical soup after our transport crawled through the congestion for a couple of hours and onto Entebbe.
We arrived at the Botanical Hotel after dark, so missed the chance to walk around and appreciate the gardens. This was our last stop, early the next morning we would catch our flight home. The final night of our expedition was marked with a bottle of red wine and a large serving of Margherita pizza.
Hayfield, Peak District, 2022
Over the intervening years, Medi and I have stayed in touch, messaging from time to time. I've travelled and led expeditions elsewhere in East Africa, but I do wish the opportunity would have arisen to return to Bwindi. Not just to watch gorillas again, but more so, to trek the trails with Medi again.
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| Copyright: Medard Twongyeirwe |
Recently, he sent some wonderful pictures which he took of a very special moment shortly after one of the female gorillas had given birth. With his permission, I'm sharing them here.
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| Copyright: Medard Twongyeirwe |
Each precious new baby gorilla, takes these beautiful and impressive creatures one step further away from extinction.
Stu Westfield
Ranger Expeditions
https://rangerexped.co.uk/
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