Shooting Times & Country Magazine
A sporting life in Africa
With its predators and bandit raids, daily life in the Kenyan wilds can get pretty lively
The other day, a leopard ate an innocent man in the valley downstream from my ranch in northern Kenya and now, just a few nights ago, predators gobbled up an armed bandit who was bent on theft and murder. I was sad about the first man, but felt the second probably got what he deserved.
Some readers are going to decide
I’m being cruel about this bandit and that I’m going too far. But, before you decide that, in this particular tale try to remember what you felt if you’ve ever been burgled or scammed. I’m sure you had lurid daydreams about the sticky end these criminals deserved. Well, now you can imagine them being eaten.
Recently, a blood feud erupted between the Samburu and Pokot, our tribal nomadic neighbours. As usual, it was all triggered by livestock raiding. First, Samburu warriors hit a Pokot camp, stealing goats in a hail of gunfire that killed one innocent bystander. The next day, the Pokot took their revenge, killing two Samburu and making off with a flock of sheep. The following night, five Pokots were wiped out in a raid — and so it went on, escalating day by day. Most Samburus and Pokots are ordinary folk who want to get on with their lives and avoid pointless bloodletting, but the threat of raiding means that many men feel they must carry assault rifles in case they have to defend their herds and families. At the same time, feuds like this attract the troublemakers and criminals who enjoy any opportunity to pile into a fight or a raid.
“The threat of raiding means that many men feel they must carry assault rifles”
Peace talks were held under the thorn trees one day and, to everybody’s surprise, our MP Sarah managed to broker a truce between the warring tribes. On both sides the warriors agreed to stand down, return stolen animals, compensate families for their lost relatives and start behaving themselves. To celebrate the peace,
Pokots and Samburu sat down to share a meat feast, then they all went home to mind their own business.
Everybody was happy except, of course, the troublemakers, who had rushed up to the front lines of feuding in the hope of raiding some cattle. Now, bitterly disappointed that there would be no more fighting, they traipsed home. But one Samburu gang decided there was no way they could return to the cattle camp emptyhanded and so, one nightfall, they fixed on a plan to steal a herd of camels from a family of their own tribe. In these droughtstricken times, camels have become even more valuable than cattle, since they are so hardy, rely on browse rather than pastures and can survive without water for three weeks at a time.
The bandits hit after dark, opening fire on the poor Samburu camel herders from two sides in a pincer movement. The people under attack fled in all directions and so did their camels, while the attackers poured AK-47 bullets into the area. In the hail of bullets, two of the bandits managed to shoot each other, both of them falling down dead on the spot. Silence and darkness followed.
Just deserts
In the morning, the frightened camels came home and so did all the people. The bandits had got away with nothing and the gang had all vanished except for their two cohorts who had managed to kill each other. Scavengers move in fast around here, and when I say that one fellow had been half eaten, he had literally been consumed from his big toes to his rib cage. The hyenas had not been able to finish off the rest of him before first light, when they had slunk away. As for the other fellow, nothing but his left foot remained.
In our corner of Africa, peace now reigns. People have gone back to herding their cattle and camels, living on the milk and blood of their animals and hoping for the heavens to open up and end the catastrophic drought. As for the bandits, they have been eaten and their guns have been safely retrieved.