by Sibel Hodge
As soon as Zach managed to put the camera away, he grabbed my hand and ran as the sky lit up with a lightning bolt. ‘It doesn’t look like this is going to let up, and there’s a cave a bit further up here,’ he shouted over the noise of the thunder and rain. ‘We can shelter until it stops.’
‘Come on, Asha,’ I called to her to follow. She was of the same opinion as us and didn’t need much encouragement to get out of the nasty weather, but there was no way she was leaving her warthog behind. She dragged it between her front paws until we arrived at the base of some large rocks.
Zach pointed to the cave above us. ‘I need to make sure there aren’t any other animals sheltering in there before you go up. Wouldn’t want to stumble on a leopard or a snake. Stay here.’ He climbed up the side of the rocks and looked inside before beckoning me to follow.
I climbed up with ease and Asha followed, dragging her carcass up the rocks and starting to feed.
Pulling the soaking wet T-shirt away from my skin, I wafted it about, feeling conscious that it was now pretty see-through. Zach’s shirt and shorts were moulded to his body, too. I sat down next to him as Asha shook herself and water flew all over us.
‘Hey!’ I cried at her, wrapping my arms around me and shivering at the sudden drop in temperature.
Zach looked at my clothes. ‘You should probably take them off, if you want to stay warm.’
I gawped at him. My body was reacting strangely enough around him lately without me taking my clothes off, too.
He laughed at my expression and shrugged. ‘You’ll feel the cold more if your clothes are wet.’
‘Why aren’t you taking your clothes off, then?’ I smirked.
‘Because I’m not the one shivering to death.’
I wrapped my arms around me, rubbing my hands up and down to try and keep warm, and felt Zach’s arm slide around my shoulders and pull me closer.
He was right. His body was still like a furnace. He rubbed up and down my back and I felt myself melting under his touch. I looked at him out of the corner of my eye, wondering what he was thinking. Did he feel the same things I’d been feeling when we touched, or was he just being a good friend to me? That was Zach all over—sensitive, kind, passionate about wildlife, an all round Mr Nice Guy.
‘The rainy season’s started.’ He stared out of the cave, oblivious to the turmoil of thoughts buzzing in my head.
The raindrops sliced noisily through the air like missiles, saturating the ground and forming small gullies that flowed towards the river. It was coming down so hard you could barely see a metre in front of you.
‘Within a few weeks there’ll be new vegetation growing and an abundance of grazing animals back in the Masai Mara Reserve. New animals will be born, closely followed by more predators. These rains contribute to the endless cycle of nature out here. It’s kind of like wiping the slate clean and starting all over again.’
I bit my lip, twisting a strand of hair round my finger. How good would it feel to wipe my slate clean and start over?
‘I’d better head out to see Kira tomorrow before the weather gets worse,’ he said.
Kira. Of course.
I felt like I’d been kicked in the chest. When there was someone as gorgeous as Kira around, I’d never be able to compete. What an idiot I’d been for even thinking something could ever happen between us. How could he possibly fall in love with me when he could have the choice of any beautiful woman he wanted?
One thing was certain. I would never be able to tell him how I felt.
Chapter 14
‘I’ve had some amazing news.’ Zach rushed up to me one morning. ‘One of the American national newspapers heard about what you’re doing with Asha and wants to come out and run a story on it.’ His grin lit up his whole face.
‘That’s fantastic.’ I smiled back. ‘The more stories there are about poaching, the more the message will get out that it needs to be stopped.’
‘So you’ll do an interview with them?’
I frowned, pointing to my chest. ‘Me? You know more about the technical side of poaching than me. Surely you’d be better at it.’ A feeling of dread froze my spine. It was one thing to be more comfortable with my appearance in front of Zach, but a reporter? What if they said something horrible about my face? I could imagine the headlines: Beauty and the Beast. Except Asha would be the beauty and I’d be the beast. I’d be the object of so much ridicule and laughter.
I shook my head. ‘No, you do it.’
Disappointment clouded his face. ‘But they want to interview you. You’re the one working with Asha. You’re the one making it possible.’
‘I…I don’t know.’
He gazed at me seriously. ‘You said it yourself. We need to raise awareness about anti-poaching and conservation, and this publicity can only help.’ He glanced at Asha in her enclosure, her paws twitching with excitement, grumbling to be let out for her morning walk. ‘Do it for Asha.’
I gnawed on my fingernail.
He was right. This was Asha’s story and it needed to be told. ‘I don’t want them to take any photos of my face,’ I said.
‘They probably will want to take some photos.’ He pursed his lips, trying to come up with a solution. ‘Maybe we can give them a shot of you and Asha from behind.’
‘But what am I going to say?’ I whined. ‘I don’t want to sound like an idiot in the papers.’
‘Have faith in yourself, Jazz. Just speak from the heart about it. That’s all you can do.’
But that was easier said than done. What did I know about being interviewed? And this was such a serious subject that I wanted to do it justice. I couldn’t bear the thought of more animals being slaughtered.
For the next few weeks until the journalist arrived I quizzed Zach, Dad, and Richard about poaching and was consumed with worry about it as I tried to come up with possible questions in my head that they might ask and my possible answers.
****
Her name was Rebecca Swanson, and she arrived at the lodge one afternoon. There was a flurry of excitement over there, but I kept away from it all. Apart from doing the interview, it was probably better for me to have as little to do with her as possible. I didn’t want to mess it up by her taking a dislike to me because of how I looked.
She spent the first day out on the reserve with Richard and Dad to get a feel for Kilingi, and the next day she went into Jito so she could talk to the local villagers. On the third day I heard them arrive outside our quarters in the Land Rover and wiped my sweating palms down the back of my shorts, peering out of the kitchen window. She was in her early thirties, with a sleek-cut black bob, cheekbones so sharp they could cut glass, and perfectly shaped eyebrows. She looked fresh in a white linen trouser suit with luscious red lipstick and nails that screamed of a polished, no-nonsense career woman. She had a camera strapped around her neck and was carrying a notebook and handheld recorder.
Zach leaped up the stairs two at a time while Richard and Dad led her to Asha’s enclosure. Asha watched them tentatively from the back fence. She could tell instinctively whether someone liked her or not and she wouldn’t come closer to the fence, despite Dad’s coaxing.
‘She’s here.’ Zach came into the kitchen.
‘Is she nice?’ I carried on staring through the window, knees feeling like jelly.
‘Yes. She seems very nice. Come on, she’s only here for one more night and she wants to get started.’ Seeing the panic that must’ve been obvious on my face, he strode towards me. ‘You can do this. It’ll be fine.’
I thought about Asha and how she trusted me to be her mum. I was going to have to be her advocate, and the advocate for all the animals out there who didn’t have a voice. This article had the potential to help raise awareness about how devastating and abhorrent poaching was, and the weight of it sat heavily on my shoulders.
I sucked in a huge breath and nodded, slowly following him outside.
‘Here she is,’ Zach said to them, and the grou
p turned to look at me.
Dad and Richard smiled, but Rebecca wasn’t quick enough to hide the surprise on her face at my appearance. She stood there staring for a moment, eyes wide with an expression of horror, before she realised what she was doing and cleared her throat.
I cringed inwardly.
‘Rebecca Swanson.’ She held her hand out to shake mine. ‘Nice…to…meet…you,’ she pronounced the words very slowly, as if I was deaf, and plastered a smile on her face.
It wasn’t the first time that someone thought I might have some kind of mental slowness because of the way I looked, but it still got to me. I caught Zach’s eye, and he gave me a pained look.
Shaking her hand, I felt a hot red rash creep up my neck. ‘Jazz Hooper. Nice to meet you, too,’ my voice came out hoarse.
‘I’d…like…to…get…a…few…shots…of…Asha…first,’ she said.
‘It’s OK, I’m not deaf,’ I blurted out.
Her eyes flashed wide for a second in surprise and then, realising her mistake, she regained her composure and ran a hand through her hair, straightening up her back and turning towards Asha. ‘OK, let’s get started, then,’ she said in a brusque voice. ‘Let me just get a few shots of her in the enclosure and then we’ll do the interview.’
I avoided everyone’s gaze and mumbled, ‘OK,’ then shuffled uncomfortably from one foot to the other until she finished.
‘Can we sit up there in the shade?’ Rebecca nodded her head towards the veranda after she got her photos.
‘Of course,’ Dad said. ‘Do you want a cold drink while you’re working?’ he asked Rebecca.
She gave him a blood-red smile. ‘That would be lovely.’ And she stalked towards the veranda.
I shuffled behind the group and felt Zach reach for my hand and squeeze it. ‘You’ll be fine, don’t worry,’ he whispered.
I sat down opposite Rebecca as Richard, Dad, and Zach disappeared inside the house. She set her notebook on her knees, pulled a pen out of the centre binding, and put the voice recorder on the table. ‘Do you mind if I record this interview while I take notes?’ She gave me a scrutinising gaze.
I shook my head softly and felt the hair on my scalp prickling under her eyes. I stared at the ground. ‘Er…no.’
‘Here we are; homemade lemonade.’ Dad placed a glass in front of Rebecca and handed me one.
‘Fantastic,’ Rebecca said.
‘Jazz made it,’ he said with a proud grin.
She took a sip. ‘Lovely.’ Setting it back down, she tapped her pen on her notebook. ‘Right, let’s get to work.’
Dad disappeared and left us to it.
Rebecca pressed the play button on the recorder and said, ‘So, tell me about Asha. What happened to her mother?’
‘She…she was killed by poachers.’
She nodded and waved a hand in front of her in a go on gesture.
‘Um…it seems to be happening more and more now. There are small-time poachers who kill the animals for food, but there are also gangs of professionals who kill them for all kind of things like their skins, horns, ivory, bones—’
‘Yes, and who were these poachers?’ she interrupted me.
‘We don’t know. They got away. But these days there are well-organized, international gangs of poachers and traffickers in the illegal wildlife trade.’
She pointed her pen around the area. ‘And what do the local people think about this?’
‘I’m sorry, I don’t know what you mean,’ I said.
She raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow. ‘Well, some of the villagers and settlements I visited yesterday are very poor. They told me that they have a right to hunt animals for food or to protect their livestock from predators. If they’re unable to do that, their livelihoods will be affected, won’t they?’
‘Yes, some people do feel like that, but we need to educate the local people about co-existing with the wildlife, not destroying it. The game reserves in the area actually provide employment for local people.’
She made of note of something on her pad. ‘What sort of education are you talking about?’
‘Er…I don’t know, exactly, but—’
She cut me off. ‘Well, the villagers and tribes were here long before the establishment of the game reserves. Do you think we should put the animals’ rights before the rights of the local people?’
‘I just know that this kind of poaching can’t keep happening,’ I carried on. ‘The black rhino, for example, is critically endangered and will be extinct in the near future if the poaching continues. Tigers are being wiped out because of Asian medicine, with only around five hundred left of certain species. There are less than forty Amur leopards left in the world. The African leopard is listed as “near threatened” and they’re becoming more rare outside of protected areas. If this carries on, they’ll become endangered, too. In the sixties, over fifty thousand leopards were being killed each year in Africa for their fur.’ My voice rose with passion. ‘Some animal parts are worth more than gold to these people.’
Swiftly changing the subject, she asked, ‘So what are you doing to get Asha ready for release into the game reserve?’
I wiped my palms on my thighs. ‘Well, I’m trying to teach her everything she’ll need to know to be a fully functioning wild leopard. She’s seven months old now, and she’s doing really well so far. I’ve introduced her to different kinds of prey, since leopards have a very varied diet, and soon we’ll be teaching her to chase carcasses from the back of a Land Rover to get her used to chasing her kills.’
‘Then what?’
‘We’ll have to introduce live prey to her.’
She grimaced. ‘And what will that be?’
‘Things like impala, antelope, warthogs, birds, fish.’
‘You must have a strong stomach.’
I picked at my fingernail. ‘Well, it’s not something I’d normally choose to do. Taking on the role of her mother means dealing with the good things and the bad. It’s essential for her survival because if she doesn’t learn to hunt, she’ll never be released. It’s better to teach her that than have her in a zoo somewhere with no freedom.’
‘Aren’t you worried that she’ll become too used to humans?’
‘Her contact is limited to me and Zach. Dad will only have contact with her if she needs any veterinary care. And people who stay at the lodge aren’t allowed out here to see her.’ I paused. ‘There is a risk that she’ll get too used to humans, but it’s a risk that we have to take to get her to the stage where she can be released.’
She frowned. ‘I’ve heard of incidents where animals have been re-wilded and released and then gone on to attack humans.’
‘I think that when a wild animal gets used to humans, if they see them out in their habitat, they’ll often go towards them instead of away from them. Then, of course, the people run away, but the running triggers the animal’s hunting instincts and they chase them. Towards the end of Asha’s re-wilding I’ll have to cut off most of my contact with her.’ A sad feeling drifted over me, dreading that day. Asha had been my life since we’d arrived in Kenya, and even though we had a long way to go, I couldn’t imagine not being with her every day.
She carried on asking me questions for another three quarters of an hour and then slid her pen in the spine of the notebook and turned off the recorder. She stood and shook my hand. ‘Thank you.’ She paused for a moment, head tilted, a sympathetic look on her face. ‘What do you think should happen to these poachers?’
‘Maybe they should have a taste of their own medicine.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Well, how would they like to be shot and mutilated? Some rhinos have their horns hacked off while they’re still alive and are just left for dead.’
‘Poaching is a crime here, isn’t it? Why not just leave it to the authorities?’
‘It is a crime, but catching them is another matter. They’re armed and very dangerous. Plus, even if they’re caught, the punishment is so m
inimal it makes no difference to them.’
‘I see.’ She nodded thoughtfully and we walked towards the steps. ‘So, do you think that the villagers shouldn’t be allowed to have firearms out here, then?’
‘Well, I guess some may need them for protection if they use the National Parks to graze their livestock or work with animals, but no, I don’t think most people should have them at all.’
Richard and Dad came out to take her back to the lodge and Zach stayed behind.
‘How did it go?’ he asked.
‘Er…OK, I think. I was so nervous!’ I went over the questions she’d asked me and what I could remember of my answers, but my brain was in such a scramble I’d forgotten most of what I’d said.
‘I’m sure you did great. Rebecca says they’ll be running the piece in the Saturday supplement.’ He grinned. ‘I’m really proud of you.’
I felt a hot blush sweeping over my cheeks. Fingers crossed I’d said all the right things.
****
On Saturday I crept into the office at the lodge to send an email to Aunt Katrina when I knew the guests would be out on safari. I regularly filled her in on what I’d been doing with Asha now, and, as always, her replies were encouraging and fun. As I tapped away on the keyboard, I heard Dad and Zach’s voices in quiet conversation out in reception.
‘You can’t tell Jazz,’ Dad said firmly.
‘We have to. She knows the piece is due out today; she’ll be asking about it.’
‘I can’t believe Rebecca wrote that,’ Dad said. ‘She seemed very interested and sympathetic to anti-poaching when she was here.’
‘I know. There’s no way Jazz would’ve said something like that.’
I leaped out of the chair and rushed out to reception. ‘What are you talking about?’
