The orphaned elephants:

Graduations are always poignant affairs, but especially in this case. Mayan and Vaarti are two hard-won success stories: Mayan was rescued from a septic tank in Manyani Prison in December 2018. He came to us in a skeletal state, and for a full three months, hovered between life and death. Day and night, he was sustained through a constant rotation of drips, until he miraculously turned a corner. 

Vaarti, improbably enough, came from Ithumba. After his mother died, he was delivered into our care by a wild elephant. She must have found him on his own and, knowing he needed help, escorted him to the Ithumba stockades. For him, the graduation to Ithumba is a return home. 

Over the past several years, the boys have been a bolstering presence in our Kaluku herd. They were reliable, affable, unflappable, and excellent influences on their younger counterparts. But every orphan deserves a return to their birthright — a truly wild life. Thus, we knew it was time for the boys to take the next step in their reintegration journeys. We are happy to report that the move went very well. You can read a full account of it here.

Every graduation is followed by a brief period of adjustment, as the orphans adjust to the new herd dynamics. Natibu, who had a very special bond with Mayan, was particularly bewildered. But elephants are equally adept at turning the proverbial page, and within a few days, everyone was back to normal. 

Mwinzi immediately took the role of herd senior. He is the eldest (though not by much — he is only two years old, after all) and, much like Mayan and Vaarti, is an unusually composed young bull. He keeps to himself, not because he is unsociable, but because he operates on such a calm wavelength and won’t let anyone interrupt his cool! 

Hose wars are a time-honoured tradition among our Kaluku herd. The orphans may change, but the battle remains the same. While there is more than enough cold, clean water to go around, everyone covets the humble hosepipe. It’s less about drinking and more about possession. At the moment, Natibu is the reigning champion of hose wars, although Toto puts up a good fight. 

When he isn’t presiding over the hosepipe, Natibu is presiding over his security blanket. Because of his traumatic rescue story (he got stuck inside a tiny manhole), he was initially very claustrophobic inside his stable. To alleviate his anxiety, the Keepers kept his top stable door open at night, instead hanging a blanket across to block out any draughts. This worked a treat, and Natibu soon embraced his bedroom as his own private sanctuary. 

Now, Natibu is our morning sentry. Before the rest of the compound has woken up, you will find his cheerful face framed by his ‘security blanket,’ alert and ready to embrace a new day. He is a different elephant from the withdrawn, frightened calf we rescued 14 months ago. These night-and-day transformations are incredibly satisfying to behold. 

Kaluku is home to an ever-growing family of vulturine guineafowl. Every morning they (forgive the pun) flock to the stockades, where they know the Keepers are generous with their breakfast chapatis. While they are an entirely benign presence, Toto doesn’t seem to agree. When they congregate, he moves into ‘guard elephant’ mode, ears flared and trumpet blaring as he attempts to vanquish every last feather from the premises. Unfortunately for him, the birds know he’s all bluster and half heartedly flap just out of trunk’s reach. 

Chamboi the orphaned rhino:

Chamboi is an impatient little chap. His milk bottles are never a minute late, but that doesn’t stop him from worrying! The moment he gets wind that his bottle is being prepared, he stages a very vocal protest, complaining that the milk isn’t already in his belly. His chorus of surprisingly loud, insistent squeaks doesn’t stop until the bottle has been presented to him.

Chamboi’s friendship with Bam and Boozle is still going strong. As they are getting older, the orphaned ostriches are starting to follow their own daily schedule, but they still gravitate towards Chamboi for large chunks of the day. The group dynamic is very funny to behold: The birds are quite competitive, while Chamboi is unflappable. As they jostle for the coveted first-in-line position, he placidly observes. 

These days, Chamboi’s main focus is eating vegetation: Now that he has his teeth, he is a green-eating machine. He has identified his favourite plants and hones in on them, chomping away with admirable focus. As a result, his form is starting to fill out. His nose remains a stump — the horns will emerge in time — but we are starting to see hints of the impressive rhino Chamboi will become. 

Twiggy the orphaned giraffe:

As always, Twiggy operates on her own schedule. She leaves her bedroom when she is well and ready, and then the day is her oyster. Usually, she links up with the orphaned elephants at 8 a.m., when they have their mid-morning milk feed, and remains with them until the 11 a.m. mud bath. From there, Twiggy slowly winds her way back to the stockade compound, where her own bottle is waiting. 

It was unseasonably hot in Tsavo this month. This should be our winter, but temperatures frequently hit the high 30s C (90s F). To ensure lovely Twiggy stayed hydrated, the Keepers started giving her bottles of water throughout the day. Twiggy accepted these readily, although there was always a slight expression of betrayal when she discovered she was drinking plain old water, instead of delicious milk!

Apollo the orphaned rhino:

Apollo’s zebra ‘roommates’ continue to cohabitate in his roaming grounds. Two months ago, one of the zebra mares gave birth, bringing a spritely foal into the mix. Now, Apollo starts his day with a playful exercise routine, chasing the foal around the boma. Far from being alarmed, the zebras are thoroughly entertained — and nonplussed — by his antics. Once the burst of activity is over, everyone settles into placid companionship. 

As we shared last month, Apollo delights in pulling disappearing acts. This is a low-stakes rebellion: For now, he remains in his fenced roaming grounds, but it covers several acres and he can easily make himself invisible. His Keepers have become expert rhino detectives, using the distinctive call of a tick-eating bird (which perch atop Apollo to rid him of his juicy ticks) to track him down. But even still, he sometimes catches them unawares, silently sneaking up behind them as they try to track him down! 

* Apollo is now at Rhino Base, in Tsavo East National Park