In this edition of Field Notes, I want to take a look into a very special family structure: Our Kaluku orphan herd — a collection of species, unrelated by blood or even taxonomy, but enormously bonded for a formative period in their lives.

– Angela Sheldrick

Over the years, the cast of characters changes at Kaluku. Orphans grow up and reclaim their place in the wild, new babies are rescued, and our family continues to morph and move on, evolve and expand. But it all begins — by origins and by day — with our chorus line of vulturine guinea fowl.

As the sun peeks above the Yatta Plateau and saturates the Tsavo landscape in a golden blush, our resident flock of guinea fowl takes their position outside the stockades. With a staccato 'ke-ke-ke-ke' call, they herald in the new day — serving as a lilting alarm clock to our entire Kaluku herd in the process.

While these birds are entirely wild, they are inextricably linked to our orphan herd. We call them 'Lemeki's flock' — adopted chicks of one of the very first orphaned elephants we raised at Kaluku. Lemeki was rescued from a raging river when she was just days old and immediately made her presence felt.

Her arrival coincided with the hatching of several vulturine guinea fowl, which one of our pilots had painstakingly incubated and nurtured in the hopes of having a resident flock around his home. Lemeki had another idea. Her daily trips down to Neville's house ensured she formed a special bond with the guineas. When Lemeki's new stables were built within our headquarters, they relocated to roost on her roof.

Lemeki graduated to Voi more than three years ago — where she is thriving, and remains larger than life — but her flock continues to rule the roost at Kaluku and has grown considerably.

Our current herd's biggest personality hardly needs any introduction: Mr Bean trotted into our lives last October, rescued as a days-old orphan. He was hardly our first warthog rescue — those who have been with us long enough will remember Scooter, whose reputation lives eternal — so we suspected that a giant character was just waiting to blossom from the tiny piglet.

But Bean eclipsed all our expectations. He quickly morphed into Kaluku's dominant force. What he lacks in size he certainly makes up for in presence. If another member of the family gets their milk bottle before him, he highlights the injustice with a plaintive protest of throaty squeaks. When a member of the team walks by, he promptly flops down and proffers his belly, waiting for the belly rubs he obviously deserves. Every morning, the Keepers clean out the orphans' stables and then remove the mattresses to dry in the open air. Bean sees these as his own personal chaise lounge — we often round a corner to find him reclined on the mattress, basking in the sun.

For all the creature comforts he enjoys, the call of the wild is even stronger. Bean is only nine months old, but already he shows great curiosity in life beyond Kaluku. He disappears for hours at a time and spends his day in a veil of mystery — no doubt creating a burrow or fraternising with wild warthogs — only to reappear promptly at feeding times for his perfunctory bottle feed. Come nighttime, he returns to his stablemates (more on them below), but it is only a matter of time before he prefers to retreat to his own burrow in the wild.

But for now, Bean is busy bossing around his long-suffering, endlessly patient roommates: Choke the kudu, Izera the eland, Gruff the buffalo, and next-door neighbours Bam and Boozle the ostriches. He shepherds everyone inside with a chorus of bossy squeals, his tail held aloft, does a pass around the stable, and then retreats to his burrow of hay in the corner. In their own ways, these are all formidable creatures, but they defer to Bean — much like the pesky brother who exasperates his siblings but also has their endless loyalty.

Bean is lucky to have excellent role models to look up to. In 2021, we rescued a young orphaned warthog named Sprite. Unlike Scooter and Bean, she was always very wary of humans and chose to reclaim her place in the wild quite quickly. But much to our surprise, when she became a mother — giving birth to three perfect piglets — she opted to raise her kids close to Kaluku. Her daughters, who have only ever known a wild life, continue to visit Kaluku almost every day. While they don't directly interact with the Keepers, as an orphan would, they clearly feel part of our family.

In truth, all our orphans have wild role models and mentors. Kaluku sits in the heart of the Tsavo ecosystem, sharing two boundaries with Tsavo East National Park. It is a true wilderness — untamed, untouched, and home to all manner of species. Elephants quietly pad through the bush, giraffes peek through the treetops, hippos snort from the riverbanks, and lions stalk through the grass. We all coexist peacefully with these animals, giving them the space and reverence they deserve. And when they grow up and feel ready, our orphans become part of the Tsavo patchwork, joining their wild brethren.

As infants, the orphans remain within their cocoon — but as they get older, they naturally start to feel the pull of the wild. We are seeing this with Twiggy, our 'gentle nanny' and resident giraffe. While she remains very hooked on her human-orphan family, she is also becoming increasingly interested in fraternising further afield. One evening, she created a huge stir when she pulled an evening disappearing act, setting off a worried search effort on the ground and in the air. Our pilot soon found her a kilometre 'off campus', pursuing the path of a bull giraffe! Twiggy still comes home each night of her own free will, but we know the time will come when she chooses to remain out.

Twiggy stands head, shoulders, body, and legs above the rest of our herd, but every creature gravitates towards her kind, dependable presence. She can usually be found with an assortment of small creatures in her wake. In fact, even Tsavo's wild animals see Twiggy as a friend. One evening, as the Keepers checked her stockade, they were surprised to find that she had guests: a dik-dik and her brand-new baby! Seeking a safe place to give birth, the tiny antelope took up residence in Twiggy's room and then kept her fragile newborn there for two days, until she was strong enough to venture further afield.

These anecdotes tell a much larger story: one of family, support, and coexistence. Our Keepers set the tone, treating each orphan who comes into our care with the same level of support and respect. From the mighty elephant to the diminutive bush baby, every animal is extraordinary in their own right. We recognise them for the unique creatures they are and raise them just as we would raise any other member of our family.

People often marvel at the 'unlikely' aspect of interspecies friendships, but to us, they are the most natural thing in the world. At this early and formative period in their lives, orphans aren't so focused on being among their own kind — that instinct will cement later on — but rather about being surrounded by love and support.

That is why Chamboi the rhino is best friends with two gangly ostriches. Bam and Boozle started as two little fuzzballs dwarfed by the rhino, but now they tower above him — yet still remain as bonded as ever. It is why elephants Toto, Korbessa, Mwinzi, and Natibu accept Twiggy as a member of their honorary herd. It is why an ark's worth of animals happily congregate behind Keeper Peter as he brings the elephants their bottles of milk — not because it is their own feeding time, but simply to be part of the journey.

We raise every orphan with the goal of helping them find their place in the wild. It can be bittersweet, knowing the inherent risks they may face, but any feelings of sadness are eclipsed by the knowledge that they are back where they belong, living as they are meant to live. Some orphans remain very connected to their human-elephant family; others less so, with the level of attachment often depending on their species. I look at Bombi, the zebra foal currently in our care, and know it is only a matter of time before the handsome wild stallion who has taken up residence near the airstrip scoops her into his herd. He probably won't tolerate side missions to visit the people who raised her, but we will see her from afar and take great satisfaction in knowing she is thriving among her own kind.

Life is a journey — and at Kaluku, we get to be an important chapter in the journeys of these animals, nurturing them as any young animal deserves to be nurtured, until they are ready to write their own stories in the wilds of Tsavo.