It took a two-day road trip and a stop in the small town of Nata to reach Moremi in northern Botswana and the plush green swamps of the Okavango Delta.
The rich earth mettled with footprints, pawprints and other markings and leavings was a narrative of the flurry of activity in what is dubbed ‘Africa’s Last Eden’. The delta embraces a part of the richly diverse Moremi Game Reserve — one of the few homes to the entirety of the Big Five.
The structure of the delta is much like that of the Bay of Bengal, but many have dubbed the formation of the delta a fluke of Nature. About two million years ago, the original route of the Okavango River ended in a lake that is now the salt pans of the Makgadikgadi.
Then about 50,000 years ago, a monumental earthquake in Southern Africa created a seismic flow disruption for the river, forming the 15,000 square-kilometre wetland from 11 trillion litres of water. So geologically speaking, the delta is quite young — but has also seen lifetimes of species thrive and wither.
Nestled in a narrow makoro, a carved wooden canoe, its easy drifting courtesy the navigation of the local guide of the Bugakhwe tribe was both unsettling and comfortable — like a hammock. He explained the swamp is home to a plethora of mini-ecosystems, “Each leaf, each tree is a home to so many things.”
It was 8 am and the mid-December stifling 32-degree swelter, coupled with a cloudless sky, had rivulets of sweat running down the back of my neck. Despite layers of sunscreen, the heat prickled my skin, making me fidget until the makoro rocked warningly, causing a build-up of nausea.
The papyrus reeds swayed dizzily and the gentle strokes of the oars presented an understood decorum — be silent and everything around you comes alive. I noticed a movement from the corner of my eye; the bulbous head of a hippopotamus peered at us, pink eyelids squinting as tiny ears shook off some water. Its nostrils flared and I froze, knowing the reputation of these temperamental water horses.
The guide, however, waved it off, chuckling, “It is wild, but they are used to us passing through. Don’t bother it, stay inside the boat — and you’ll be fine.” As he explained, the creature sunk back beneath the cool water, comforted by our unthreatening presence. The movement sent a profound ripple, rocking the canoe and I quickly grasped the sides tightly, my eyes widening in brief fear.
Twenty minutes later, the canoe drifted towards the edge of Chief’s Island, a 1,050 square-kilometre congregating area for larger wildlife. A pair of spiralling horns towered over the reeds, signalling the curiosity of a kudu. Suddenly, the still water started rippling once again; standing in the cool shallows, a mother elephant slathered mud upon herself as her baby playfully rolled around in efforts to cool off. A crocodile heaved itself out of the water and waddled onto the warm banks and opened its mouth to sunbathe. Alarmed impala sprung off into the grasses. Darting dragonflies and skating water striders brought a light hum to accompany the chatter of birds and vervet monkeys in the treetops.
It was overwhelming to the senses, and one has to take a breather to fully absorb what’s going on. In just 90 minutes, one can behold an almost utopic universe: it’s not passing traffic, it’s a migration; it’s not a towering building, it’s a canopy of trees; it’s not dangers of the city, it’s the curiosity and natural defence of animals in their habitats. You cannot afford to isolate the senses, it’s simply an upfront and empowering experience if you let it happen to you.
Nature’s struggle to thrive
The Okavango’s fertility, however, is disintegrating, with overwhelming summer seasons and resulting droughts, as well as threats of man. Our guide had pointed out the endangered species, some of which peered curiously back at us.
The Botswana government has been stringent in their protection of the delta against human encroachment and extractions of resources, such as water, valuable salts and animal products. Poaching has never been an easy thing to prevent internationally, as our guide explained, but the numerous army camps set up in the reserves are always alert and try to leave minimal human footprints. One may not always see them as they are well-hidden, but they are watchful of any movement.
- While a road trip is truly an exciting — yet time-consuming — way to get to the delta, the one way to really prep yourself for an adrenalin rush is to fly into Moremi from either Johannesburg, Gaborone or Kasane, so you can witness the entirety of the Okavango in its glory.
Currently, pervasive worries run amok, regarding syndicates at work to engage in such malpractice, including the recent killings of two rhinos. Daily monitoring and locating devices can only go so far, according to the guide, who added, “Sometimes, the locator will not move for hours and that’s when we worry… and we often find the animal lying there dead.”
The Okavango, a world heritage site and rightly so, yields a human-to-animal interaction unlike any other place; a truth of not man alongside Nature, but man within Nature.
