Impi...

I have been here at Thula Thula for almost a month now and I'm starting to find my rhythm. It has been an eventful few weeks and everyday holds something different. Haven't posted for a while so I'll start where I left off...

Week two was a stark contrast from week one as the reserve had visitors from the states. They were here planning for a show at The London Fashion Week which the Lawrence Anthony Foundation is sponsoring. They were also here to film some footage for a short video that will be shown on Virgin Airlines. On their first day I joined them on a trip to the local village for a visit to the creche and the Sangoma (witch doctor). It was a great day full of culture shocks and on the way home I told them I was into photography and wanted to be a wildlife film maker. Luckily for me they hadn't organised anyone to film for them on this trip and I was immediately volunteered for the role.

As the week went by I was their trusty camera man and assistant, mainly filming interviews and meetings. It all got interesting however when there was news that a young zebra had been spotted with an injured leg and covered in cuts and ticks. The general consensus was that if we didn't do something then the hyenas would. A rescue mission was organised and it was decided this should be caught on film. All the troops were rallied, a vet was called and the search for the zebra began. It was my job to catch it all on camera but with one strict instruction - stay out of the way!

The usual procedure for capturing an animal as large as zebra (even a baby one) would be to use a dart gun. However time was running out and there was no gun available so it was time to revert to the old school. We arrived at the area where the zebra was last seen and everyone split up to find him. After 10 minutes or so the radios started going off and his location was determined. I ran into the bush in the direction of the commotion, using only my ears for guidance as the bush was so thick. I ran for 50 yards or so and stopped to listen again. The noise had completely changed direction. I ran towards it once more dodging the thorny acacia trees, stopped, listened and now I was close by but still couldn't see a thing. I made another dash towards the sound of rangers chasing a baby zebra (you know, that sound you hear all the time in England) and finally found them. They had already caught the zebra and I had missed all the action. At least I had stuck to my one and only order - stay out of the way!

Just after the capture

With the zebra held firmly to the ground by David and Wessel, we waited for the vet to arrive at the scene. This poor little guy was incredibly strong and did not want to be held captive. He was quickly named Impi (a Zulu Warrior) because he was so strong even though he was knocking on deaths door. When the vet found us he injected Impi with a dose of ketamine. It took three men to lift and carry the zebra back to the road where a pick up was waiting to take it to the lodge where it would be treated.

Dylan, David and Wessel carrying Impi back to the truck

Once we got there Impi was fully checked over and the conclusion was that he had a fractured leg and was suffering from septicemia. He was put on a drip and kept cool with wet towels. I kept filming all the while this was going on, when all I really wanted to do was roll up my sleeves and help but, I was there to film so thats what I did.

Impi being treated

After half an hour or so, most people had left to go clean themselves up and check for unwanted ticks. Impi began to wake up and started exhibiting his strength once more. Now it was my time to get stuck in. I passed the camera to the nearest bystander and helped restrain the young fowl (and found out first hand how strong he was). Soon it was time to get him to his feet. He was still drowsy so Wessel, Marissa, Alyson and I took turns in supporting him for a good forty five minutes. His heart was beating as fast as a . He was clearly petrified and he was still very strong. Eventually he could stand by himself so we left him to his own devices. Everyone gave themselves a pat on the back and hoped he would make it through the night.

Sadly, he didn't. The news came just a few hours after we left. The shock had set in and the adrenaline had worn off and it was all too much for poor Impi. Everyone was gutted. Especially Alyson and Marissa as they had planned to stay with him through the night and were also there when he died. There was a sombre mood that evening with the inevitable hindsight debates. Some people thinking we should never have interfered and others thinking we did the right thing. The one thing no one argued about was that we gave it our best shot and our intentions were in Impi's best interests.

RIP Impi.