Wednesday 18 May 2016

A proper professional python in a zoo

 Had a frustrating day with an extraordinarily ungrateful python.

Henry was due for a feed - yes, that is his name, and for some reason it always conj ours up for me the image of a snake with a bowler hat and bow tie.  Feeding happens once every 2 weeks,although just as an aside did you know that a python can live for a year without eating if he has just had a really BIG meal?  Anyway, I digress. Today he was to be fed and this meal was to consist of a dead chicken.  What happiness.  I planned to worm (no pun intended) out of my other duties to see the feeding because I wanted to see him detach his lower jaw, somehow slide along the floor and scoop up the chicken, and then watch the lump travel down his body.  But I couldn’t get away on time, and anyway there was a huge crowd of manky school children all clustered around him and getting in the way, meaning I wouldn’t have got to see much. So I went a couple of hours later.   When I got to the enclosure, this is what I saw:

A large, open enclosure with trees and water and grass and plants and bushes and flowers and lots of other attractive things
A large black car tyre, lying flat
A dead chicken inside the car tyre
No snake

Then my companion pointed out that the snake was inside the car tyre, the chicken effectively curled in its folds.  My companion added that the snake did not eat while the children were there because once he has eaten, he will not be able to move for a while so will be vulnerable to prey.  I sympathized enormously with this, because after I’ve eaten I often can’t move for hours, and insensitive people of low intelligence often use such times to ask complex and tedious questions and demand things of me.  I felt a bond between myself and Henry right away. We sent each other vibes for a few moments through the tyre about being too sensitive for this harsh world. And my friend then buggered off.

However, despite the warmth of our instant bonding, Henry did not then immediately pop out to see me and wave his chicken in triumph.  This was slightly disappointing.  I watched the dusk begin to settle, and the noise of other workers finishing their tasks in other enclosures.  The noises began to die down, and the cicadas began to call.  I looked back at Henry, but he was still keeping everything except his head inside the tyre, and just popping that out occasionally to eyeball his lovely bit of chicken.  It was important for Henry to be careful, I reminded myself.  Our bond was a special thing, but he clearly knew from experience that humans can be unpredictable and difficult.  He will want to make sure all was thoroughly settled before he eats.  I settled down happily to watch the tyre merge gently into the shadows and bushes; and an hour later,the shadows and bushes all begin to merge into each other.

After another hour, darkness and silence had truly descended. Something very large and wiggly dropped from the tree branch above my head and down the back of my shirt.  This is the kind of thing that happens to you in Africa.  I carefully stuck my hand up my back and fished it out - couldn’t see what it was, but it was about the size of a very large cockroach.  I had one of those down my back last week so have a feel for the heft of them.  I popped him into a nearby bush, changed leg, and returned to my cogitations.

By 6pm, everything was silent but the cicadas, the stars being the only lights in the velvety darkness.Just as well I’m so patient - but with our special bond, I felt able to wait as long as Henry needed to feel safe. I settled back into another rather awkward posture, and a new concern suddenly occurred. Which was that when Henry decided to eat the chicken I wouldn’t actually be able to see it.  This annoyed me.

I bet if David Attenborough was here, he wouldn’t have to stand in an uncomfortable position for hours - however good his bond with the snake.  There would be a chair for him, or a stool, and probably a hot cup of coffee with something in it to keep away the night chill. Plus, of course, tons of lights, so that the miracle of eating could be recorded for posterity.  And then he would ‘voice over’ it, of course, for the documentary.  Probably show a picture of him squatting in the foreground with Henry in the background, detaching and swallowing and so on, and him whispering as if not wanting to break the magic of the moment - or the bond.  I began to look around, wishing something would make itself visible to me so I could sit on it.  But nothing did.

Still, I was very happy with the stars and cicadas, and our bond.  Then I started wondering if my own evening meal had been served yet.  Joseph was a splendid cook and all his offerings were eaten up very quickly by my hungry colleagues and myself.  Would they keep some for me? I wondered.  Probably not.  Not anything particularly nice anyway, like Joseph’s legendary samosas, or fresh donuts, or the apple crumble without the apple.  Might be a bit of fried rice left, perhaps.  And some sort of cold salad.  I looked hopefully back at the tyre, but there was still no suggestion of movement.  Not that I would be able to see it anyway -  I hadn’t been able to distinguish the tyre from its surroundings for at least an hour.

Back to thinking of stars and cicadas, but some other thoughts began to break in.  My Frank, my little blue monkey friend with his melancholy orange brown eyes, he would be hungry and eager for his evening bottle.  As would Trouble, Aboo and Affe, my delightful trio of young Malawin Vervets.   And of course, the rest of my human crew would be tucking in to a hearty evening meal by now, and stocking up on stodge and carbs.  My stomach begun to growl. I was long overdue my own feed.  Just as well me and Henry had such a strong bond, otherwise I would have been tempted to move on and leave him feed all by himself.

By 7pm, I had begun to feel it was unfair to leave Frank, Trouble, Affee and Aboo unfed any longer.  And Henry was no doubt waiting for the small wee hours when he could guarantee from long experience that the great unwashed would be home and far away, and he could come out and eat in complete safety with me there to support him. So I made a momentous decision, sent reassuring vibes to Henry through the tyre, and crept away quietly to hot foot it round to the main kitchens, where I was able to identify a few choice items with my name on and sneak them in my pocket before hurrying around to the monkeys and then back to Henry.

You will already know, of course, that Henry ate the chicken while I was gone.  This is something else that would never have happened to David Attenborough. Henry had obviously constricted very effectively - his body was still so slim be could have been wearing a full Gok Wan body stocking.  Something else for us to bond about?  But I wasn’t feeling like bonding any more.  I shone the torch on him and watched him freeze in terror, then try to slither back into his tyre and safety.  So I bent down and screamed “Serve you bloody well right if the crocodile gets you” in my most stentorian tones, and watched with satisfaction as he began to shake.  Do you think David Attenborough ever had to put up with a shaky python?  I seriously doubt it.  I went off to see if I could find a brick to heave at him.  Fucking snakes. Totally overrated in my opinion.

Gormless Henry who is going to look a lot sadder than this after I've hit him with a brick

Tuesday 17 May 2016


We had such bad news today, to whit, the death of our Serval cat.  There were a number of vets here again to try one more operation in the hope it would locate a fixable problem, but again he became so unwell it was not possible to continue.  That was this morning.  He was so ill that euthanasia was discussed at that time, but they held off until 4 pm, at which time all agreed it was the only thing to be done.  He was euthanized and slipped away very quickly.


A somewhat macabre thought came to me then - what do we do with the body?  Obviously wild animals eat each other all the time - would we feed our little chum to the lions/crocodile/snake? Was this a cruel suggestion?  Or just practical? Or shocking and reprehensible? Or all of these things?  Being nosy, I could not let the question go unasked.  So I considered very carefully, using all the tools and techniques available to me through years of professional training in social work and people care, and wording it as sensitively as I could manage, I cornered Alma, our animals rehab manager, in a dark corner, and whispered softly in her ear “Are we gonna feed ‘im to the lion?”


Alma was gracious, and considered the answer carefully.  And the answer is, as I suspected, no.  And for lots of excellent reasons I hadn’t thought about.


1) We had been injecting our little chap with a number of drugs, we would not want our animals to ingest these as they may prove harmful


2) we don’t know what he died of, there may be some malignant infection or bacteria that again might harm our other animals


3) we must by law hand the body in to the authorities responsible for disposing of dead wild animals.  First they would establish the reason for this death through post mortem, which our own vets would attend.  This helps to establish what is killing wild life in the area, and if there is anything illegal going on it should be identified and tackled.  Secondly, they would incinerate the animal to ensure it could not be used for bush meat and its coat/nail/teeth etc could not be sold and used.  In this case, the Serval cat’s coat is very valuable, but of course this feeds the trade the government is (supposed to be) putting a halt to.


Our glorious leader, Alma, then led us to the pub - or its equivalent here in Malawi, and we left the security staff to guard the Sanctuary, and those feeling the need got blootered/bladdered/soused. Days of carefully tiptoing around the clinic and central grounds so as not to distress the little guy with unfamiliar noise - the catching of a range of foodstuffs to tempt his appetite - the 24 hour shifts and repeated phone calls to various involved parties, even the fending off of phone calls from newspapers still convinced we harboured a leopard in our midst - all had come to an end.  It would make things easier here on base, but not our minds.  We loved the little chum the minute we took him and wanted him to survive so much.  He was quite astonishingly beautiful, his coat so rich and colourful, his face so unusual with those enormous hopelessly out of proportion ears - it all just makes you love them more, of course.

Here’s hoping to have happier news tomorrow.

Monday 16 May 2016

Had a lot of fun today.  There was a local farmers market and I thought I should go, just to see what farmers markets in Malawi look like.  I am not sure what I expected - massive wonky pumpkins? massive platters of mango, guava and pawpaw.  Nothing like it.  But lots and lots of really interesting crafty staff.  Love some of this stuff:

Tomorrow I will write about a disappointing meeting with a python, but for now, just enjoy the craft market - I did! 

Sunday 15 May 2015


An update on the Serval today, and unfortunately he is not doing well.  He was taken into a larger animal facility yesterday and had another operation, during which his heart stopped beating and a tense ten minutes followed during which an injection was given to stimulate his heart.  This worked, and he was returned to the facilities here later in the afternoon.  He is resting again now, but the operation showed that his injuries are more severe than first thought, and the initial dog attack may have taken place some days ago.  All this means his condition is worse than we guessed, and all fingers are again crossed hoping for his speedy recovery.

Wild Dog Conservation Malawi (CM) and Lilongwe Wildlife Centre (LWT) worked together to conduct a rehabilitation and reintroduction project of Serval cats (Leptailurus serval) in Kasungu National Park in 2013.

Two servals kittens were rescued from poachers and rehabilitated at LWC that year. WDCM purchased some GPS collars to fit to the servals to conduct a field research project to assess survival rates and spatial behavior of the servals post release. On Friday 6th June 2014 the LWT and WDCM team successfully put the GPS collars on both servals ready for release. Both animals were caught early morning and placed in holding crates. They were then transported to the vet clinic at LWT where they were sedated by the LWT vets. Once sedated the vets gave them a full health check and we then tested and fitted the collars.  They were released shortly after wards.

We have a serval cat with us at the moment, named Savannah.  He joined us on 30 November 2015, and this is his picture at that time:

Savannah, Serval cat, 30 November 2015

He was confiscated by a local man from some children who were taunting it, and brought to us. We don’t know exactly what had happened to him before that, but it is likely that his mother would have been shot for bush meat and her coat sold. When, while Savannah was taken for the pet trade. When Savannah arrived he was in a very weakened state and severely malnourished, but took to solid food immediately.  Over the past 6 months Savannah has been growing fast – so fast that he is barely recognizable as the tiny kitten that arrived at the Centre. He is still very young and playful, so we have been giving him lots of enrichment to keep him stimulated such as hiding his food, which he loves to search for, along with plenty of branches full of leaves and grass balls with catnip. Human contact is kept to an absolute minimum so that he does not become humanized, but he is also being carefully observed.  The enrichment measures are fun for him now, but more importantly promoting natural foraging and avoiding human contact are key steps in maintaining and encouraging his wild nature so that he can be released back into the wild in time.

Savannah, Serval cat, February 2016

Saturday 14 May 2016

I had a day off today, and while I was away the wildlife obviously realized this was their chance, and one of our monkeys escaped his enclosure.  The funny thing was he escaped his temporary enclosure and went straight back to his long term one with all his mates in!  As we are surrounded by troops of vervet monkey’s it seems comical he didn’t decide to hangout with some of them for a change.  His preference for his mates and his safe enclosure reminded me of something Jacquie Durrell wrote.
Jacquie was married to Gerard Durrell, author of My Family and Other Animals.  In later life Gerald assembled a group to help him catch wild animals in order to set up a zoo.  One of the staff was Jacquie - I can’t remember if she was married to him at the time - but she was not enamored of the idea of the idea of collecting wild animals.  After a couple of months collecting Durrell received a phone call from whoever his employers were telling him war had broken out in his vicinity and a helicopter was being sent to pick him and his staff up. They were to abandon all the animals immediately and head for given coordinates.  Durrell was furious and argued that he had collected a great many animals and they could not just be abandoned.  The situation was very dangerous, however, and to remain would put all his staff in jeopardy. So reluctantly he ordered all the animals be released from their cages and driven back in to the jungle.  The group camped overnight intending to abandon cages and other equipment and head for the coordinates early the next morning.  When they woke the next day, however, they found the majority of the animals had returned to their cages and were sitting by them waiting to be fed.

Gerald and Jacquie Durrell

The statement I found so fascinating related to this.  I think it was in her book ‘Beasts in my Bed’ that Jacqui said she had naively believed when she set out on the trip that all the animals in the wild lived in a sort of paradise. There would be freedom, beauty and an endless and effortless supply of food for all.  She soon found the reality was far from true.  Many of the animals they captured were injured, sick or had infections and were too ill to evade capture. Some had broken limbs which of course they had no way of treating. Some had evaded predators but were left with appalling injuries.  Many were malnourished, some to the point that they were close to death. Some had been rejected by their our group/species and were in very poor condition. I think at that time Jacquie became much more positive to the idea of the positive role zoos could play in caring for animals not able to care for themselves.


 I am not sure if our little Houdini returned to his old enclosure for the company of his buddies, or because he wanted to continue to be fed and cared for.  Perhaps he was afraid of the wild vervets, and it is certainly likely they would have attacked him because he did not belong to their group.  All food for thought though.

Friday 13 May 2016

We had a lot of excitement today at the Sanctuary, which started with a call to say that a baboon being kept as a pet by a villager was in urgent need of rescue because the villagers were threatening to kill it.  When the team arrived they found a shy, gentle juvenile yellow baboon tied to a woman’s bicycle. It is illegal for anyone to keep a wild animal as a pet in Malawi, and this includes baboons. Despite this, however, the illegal ‘owner’ was reluctant to give it up, explaining that about a year ago a troop of baboons were being chased away from the village and one female had two babies and had only been able to carry one.  She had therefore taken this baby out of pity and hand raised it until now.  In fact it is so rare for a baboon to have twins I can’t even find any statistics on it, so this story is unlikely to be true. It is much more likely that the mother was killed for bush meat and this baby sold on to the illegal pet trade, which is where she was purchased by her current ‘owner’ .   Despite the illegality of the situation, the ‘owner’ was still reluctant to give the baboon up. Nothing, but nothing happens quickly in Africa, and it was some time before the team were able to secure the loudly wailing baboon in the truck and begin the drive back towards the Sanctuary.

The truck was about half way back when they received a call from staff of the Egyptian Ambassador to say that a leopard was in the ambassador’s  kitchen.  The team knew this was highly unlikely but changed course immediately and went to find out what was happening.  They arrived at the scene to find a serval cat crouching in terror at the back of a storm drain situated to the side of the Egyptian ambassador’s residence.  It had open bleeding wounds which had probably been inflicted by a pack of dogs that were still visible, apparently hoping for an opportunity to finish the cat off.  There was also a large number of highly excited villagers eager to get a look at the animal, and cameramen from newspapers similarly misinformed and keen to take photographs.  The cameramen were closely accompanied by a widely beaming Egyptian Ambassador in a very fine suit. He was clearly delighted by the situation and was  no doubt eager to get himself a few free positive column inches in the local newspapers. The serval meanwhile was clearly in pain and in a state of abject terror.  Access to the animal was very difficult, not least because the Ambassador seemed to feel a sense of proprietorship, his staff having called the rescue team, and he wanted to be photographed with it.  Petting it, perhaps?

Not surprisingly, the team found it very difficult to work in these crowded and noisy conditions.    They had to ask everyone to withdraw so they could dart the serval and remove him to the truck.  This request was met with indignation by the entire crowd, and most particularly by the Egyptian Ambassador.   Legally, however, the rescue team had the right to remove the animal for its own safety.  It was some time before the crowd thinned, and the team succeeded in clearing the entrance to the storm pipe. The serval was then darted and transported back to the Sanctuary accompanied by vets who closely monitored his condition.

The baboon and serval arrived about 9pm with an exhausted team who had spent most of the day dealing with these two emergencies.   The baboon was in good condition once the rope had been removed from her waist, with no sign of damage to her skin.  She was taken into quarantine for the night.  The serval was rushed to the clinic and a 2 hour examination was carried out.
The clean up, examination and work on the serval was undertaken by a team of qualified vets, and 4 trainee vets.  A number of volunteers - including your’s truly - were allowed to stand at the back of the room to observe.  The room was fairly crowded but almost silent while the work was being carried out, the low toned voices of the veterinary staff sharing information with each other about the wounds they were working on, and frequent updates on the animals temperature, heartbeat and level of sedation being the only sounds heard.

The examination revealed three major tears in the serval’s skin, and a multitude of tooth marks and scratches over his lower back and back legs.  All of the wounds were cleaned, and two stitched. The third wound had penetrated much further and it was feared his bowel had been perforated.  The serval had been sedated over 2 hours by then, however, and needed to be revived and left to rest. She was carried through to an indoor quarantine enclosure, made comfortable on blankets and towels, and an injection given to reverse the anesthetic.  While he was left to recover, we began the task of unloading the trucks, checking further on the baboon and cleaning up the clinic before going to bed, by which time the monitoring vet told us that he had come around, and had now settled down to sleep.  A rota was drawn up so that all the animal care staff would take a 2 hour slot to monitor his condition overnight.

A further operation will take place tomorrow when the local animal hospital has opened and an operating theater can be reserved.

We know nothing about the background of the serval – where he came from, how he ended up in the storm drain, how long he had been there etc.  He may have been kept as a pet illegally and released recently when the owner realized they could no longer handle him safely. This would explain how he came to be in the midst of a large community of people.  Or he could be a wild animal that has had the misfortune to be injured by dogs while foraging in the area.  We have excellent facilities here to care for him though, and it will be very exciting to see how he responds to medical treatment over the next few days.

We went to sleep to the melancholy cries of the yellow baboon.  She does not know how to act like a baboon and so cannot be placed in with other animals who might be able to offer her comfort.  They would certainly attack her. We also need to observe a period of 6 weeks quarantine as if she is carrying any diseases it can take this long for symptoms to show. Her lonely cries for her human owner were truly heartbreaking. As we closed the mosquito nets against the night, we all laying listening to her cries, and hoped tomorrow would bring her and our serval the start of a much happier future.

Thursday  12 May 2016

As a social worker, albeit a reluctant one at the moment, I can’t help wanting to stick my nose into as many people’s business as possible while here.  And I was given the perfect opportunity to this when I arranged a private visit to a local children’s orphanage.  We were met at the gate of Chilengana Children’s Orphanage by its proprietor, Wellington Msonda.  The orphanage is based in Area 26, which was built about 40 years ago (the area number equates to the age of the townships, Area 1 being the oldest).  It is situated about 5 miles away from the Sanctuary.  Wellington informed me that he worked as a social worker for the local authority for 32 years before retiring. He then set up this facility which is aimed at helping orphaned children from his local township.

I met the children, about 77 in all, ranging from 2-6 years, sitting in a room about the size of a double garage.  Many of the children have lost their parents to HIV and AIDS; some lost mothers due to the high mortality rate of mothers giving birth in Malawi. These children are very fortunate in that a related family member has taken on their care. The cost of caring for an extra mouth is high though, and of course there are no welfare handouts or benefits, free water, free school meals, clothing or free education.  The Malawi government boast that education is free in Malawi, which is entirely untrue.  All children must pay a significant sum each term to the school’s ‘Development Fund’, and if they can’t afford it, the children are not able to attend.  The children must also purchase the correct school uniform, notebooks, text books and all other necessary materials.  As I think I have said elsewhere in this blog, most Malawi’s live on less than one USA dollar (about 70 pence) per day. So  many families cannot afford to care for and educate their own children, even less someone else’s.

Wellington explained tome that he provides support for the orphaned children and their adopting families by giving free pre school care to the youngest children. Knowing how scarce food it, the orphanage also strive to provide porridge for the children at 11am, when they have it.  The children are supervised by two full time volunteers throughout the day, enabling relatives to undertake their normal day jobs and bring an income to the home.  The aim is to keep as many children as possible with their relatives in a family environment and in their own community.

I was embarrassed on arrival to find the children all sitting very quietly on the cement floor, clean and well dressed, with their legs stuck out straight in front of them in what looked like a most uncomfortable position.  77 small pairs of bright eyes looked at me expectantly, and I must have been quite a sight because I wore a colorful trousers and top rather than a chitenje (local African dress, its a sort of wrap around skirt.  I’d worn it for other activities in the community but forgot today).  It quickly became obvious that I was expected to address the assembled children in some way.  My guide was kind enough to agree to translate to Chichewa for me, and I gave a very brief introduction to the work of the Sanctuary, to which they responded with great zeal by shouting out the names of the foods the different animals liked.  I then asked them to sing me a song, which they did immediately, again with enormous smiles.  They then sang me a song, which was just gorgeous - such bright little enthusiastic faces and so many shining white teeth, I wish I was quick witted enough to film it for the blog.  As soon as they began singing they also began swaying gently, while initiating actions at the same time.  The actions helped identify a familiar theme in their song – God on high looking after his little sunbeams.  Afterwards I taught them ‘Heads, and shoulders, knees and toes’, (which was the only children’s song I could think of at the time, and it only has 8 words), and to which we added the appropriate actions.  The children were most enthusiastic, and jumped quickly to their feet. They did the actions very well, although they kept being overcome with giggles every time I bent down to my toes,  perhaps because they were enjoying the sight of an oddly dressed Mzungu behaving in such an undignified manner.

Afterwards Wellington announced to the children that there had been a donation to the school of bars of soap.  The children sat very still and quietly and Wellington decided who would be given a bar to take home (there were not enough to have one each).  After they were given out the lucky children all held up their bar for a photograph with great satisfaction.  I am trying to imagine offering children a bar of soap in an English nursery and what sort of reaction you would get.

Wellington then showed me the local community library which stood just outside his own house.  It is about the size of a single garage, built of brick, with a corrugated iron roof., All the walls were lined with books ancient English classroom textbooks in English, maths, science, biology, computing and the arts.  A couple of desks sat in the center of the room surrounded by chairs, and on the table several copies of a daily newspaper was also provided. There were 6 males in their teens looking through the papers and books.  These young people have completed school but have not been able to find a job.  The library offers an opportunity for the young people to read, continue to educate themselves, and look for work.  Even this facility in not free, however, as no one is admitted without paying a daily attendance fee.

I couldn’t help thinking to myself that it was as a similar but free facility that William Kamkwamba, who wrote ‘The Boy Who Harnessed The Wind’, taught himself how to read English, how to do some basic maths and science, and eventually how build a windmill to provide electricity for his own home. He made his windmill out of trees cut down locally; metal and other scraps from a car dump; and miscellaneous other materials scavenged from around the area.  His story is very impressive.  Initially locals laughed at the bizarre structure he was building and ridiculed him. However when they saw that his windmill did indeed perform the amazing miracle of lighting up a bulb, they were most impressed.  Unfortunately shortly after the windmill was built there was widespread famine throughout Malawi in 2002, and as is their custom the Malawi’s began looking for someone to blame.  William and his ‘magical’ creation were lucky to survive the accusations of witchcraft.  William has since gone on to international fame.  It’s a book well worth reading.

 Around the back of the library hut was a second brick building, which looked fairly complete in that it had four walls and a tin roof.  However large weeds were growing out of the empty window and door frames indicating that it is not habitable. Wellington stated that he is hoping to fund a concrete floor; 3 windows and a door, which will make the building available for use as a pre school for the orphaned children. Total cost 500,000 KWACHA, approximately £500.

I have considered donating to an orphan project, it seems a good way to use some of Arie’s money.  But there is a huge problem with corruption by officials of any organization, including charities.  There is a problem also with lack of accountability. Lastly, it is clear to all involved in charitable work in Malawi that if you give money to a man there can be no guarantees as to how it will be spent.  If you give it to a woman, it will be spent on children and the needs of the whole family.  There is no female to give any donation to, which is a drawback to my mind.

Also, Malawi is expected to have another famine later this year due to having insufficient rain for the last 4 years running.  Crops have died for lack of water, so this also means there will be no food.  Interestingly, water is not caught and stored during the rainy season for use later.  This typifies the Malawi approach to life: think only of today, and give no thought to tomorrow.  I recall a friend once telling me that when he carried out some building work in Kenya he found paying the locals more than the minimum wage to carry out work was counterproductive.  If given more money, the worker will simply not turn up to work the next day, as they already have enough money for food for the day.  It is difficult sometimes not to feel frustrated by the level of need you regularly meet here which could have been prevented with basic planning.

This is also true of health problems in Malawi.  A very extensive program of education and information about AIDS and HIV has ensured that all Malawi’s upwards know about these dangers and how to avoid catching it.   Malawi’s HIV prevalence is one of the highest in the world, with 10.3% of the population living with HIV.1 Malawi accounts for 4% of the total number of people living with HIV in sub-Saharan Africa.2 An estimated 1,000,000 Malawians were living with HIV in 2013 and 48,000 Malawians died from HIV-related illnesses in the same year. The Malawian HIV epidemic plays a critical role in the country’s low life expectancy of just 54.8 years.
My feeling at the end of the day was that the children needed food in their stomach’s more than a new brick building.  I might be wrong - what would a Mzungu know about the realities of life in Africa - but I talked it through with staff at the sanctuary and they seemed to think it was reasonable thinking. We are looking at setting up a small fund with the agreement of the local area tribal chief, matters now being taken in hand by the community liaison officer here at the Sanctuary. If agreement is reached, the expectation is that the correct amount of oats and milk are supplied to the pre school via the wife of the village chief each week. It will then be easy for the sanctuary to continue a relationship with the organisation, teaching children about the importance of caring for their wildlife, and making sure they are eating the food supplied.

Wednesday 11 May 2016

 I was trained for Lion observation today, and spent a happy hour by the lion enclosure watching our beautiful couple as they slept, drank and – I won’t say played, they don’t play for reasons that will become obvious if you read this blog – but let’s say ‘interacted’.

Bella

Bella was born in 2002 in a Romanian zoo and sold as a young cub to gypsies for tourist reasons, and during this time she was kept in a trailer entirely inappropriate to her needs.  However as she grew her ‘trainer’ felt she had become too big to keep, so she was sold back to the zoo for breeding purposes. Bella’s living conditions did not improve at the zoo - she was kept in appalling conditions. Her concrete cage was filthy and her small outside area was too cold and snowy for an African lion. She was given a poor diet and developed a number of medical problems that were left untreated.  In time she  developed a severe curve in her spine, and deformed back legs, making walking painful and difficult for her. She was also going blind due to cataracts in both eyes.  Bella had been severely mistreated and had cigarette burn marks to her skin and these also needed to be treated.

In 2007 the zoo was shut down and thanks to campaigning from the group ‘Lion’s Roar’ and the Born Free Foundation, Bella was taken to a different facility where she was assessed, placed in a much better environment and medical treatment was given including eye surgery. Unfortunately one eye was too damaged to be saved and had to be removed.  After treatment she was able to see out of her remaining eye but not well, and she often walked into fences and so on.  However, with the care she was given she began to recover from the appalling years she had suffered in captivity. She still has a number of severe medical conditions that can not be reversed, and as such she would never be able to hunt and feed herself in the wild. She also needs regular pain medication for her back and legs.
In March 2009 Bella was transported to Africa and the Lilongwe Wildlife Centre to live in a specially built enclosure and have a life unlike anything she had experienced before. Virginia McKenna, the founder of the Born Free Foundation was there to open Bella’s last ever enclosure and release her into the freedom and safety of her new home.  We very much hope that she will stay here for the rest of her life.

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Simba

In February 2014 Bella found a friend when Simba arrived at the centre.   Simba was born January 8th, 2005, in a French zoo, Parc Zoologique du Bouy and he lived there for several years before he was acquired by an animal trainer in Vernay.  Here Simba was housed in a ‘beast wagon’ – which was a lorry trainer, hardly big enough for him to turn around in.  When the trailer was cleaned out, Simba was allowed access to a small circular ‘exercise cage’ attached to the trailer.  Not surprisingly, Simba would then often refuse to return to the confines of the trailer but the exercise cage wasn’t secure enough for him to remain in. It is hard to imagine how much Simba must have suffered during this time through the physical discomfort of his cramped conditions, the emotional distress of loneliness and boredom day after day. Thankfully the French Authorities stepped in and ordered that Simba be handed over to their care.

At the end of 2013, thanks to a concerted effort by Foundation 30 Millions d’Amis, a French NGO, and the Natuurhulpcentrum (NHC), Simba was taken to a temporary new home in Belgium before being transported here in February 2014. Here he was placed in an enclosure next to Bella’s, and when the staff felt that they had bonded and so would not attack each other, the were united in their new joint home.  Two years later, and Bella and Simba spend almost all their time together, and are clearly very fond of each other.  It is a joy to see them in their forest enclosure where they have plenty of trees, bushes, shelter, space and water.  Two built up ponds have been provided so the lions don’t have to bend to lap up water, as neither would be able to do this without considerable pain due to spinal injuries.  Officially, both lions still belong to Born Free, who undertook their rescues and eventual transport to Lilongwe. Here at the sanctuary we want to make sure both Bella and Simba have the most natural and comfortable lives they can, and find peace and happiness.  They are carefully monitored, fed appropriately, and receive medical treatment for all their medical problems.   They are still wild animals, of course, and could never be approached by a human without the safety of a very strong wire fence.  Simba considers the enclosure to be very much his own territory, and Bella to be his girl, and this means he will at time stalk and spring at those who pass by his enclosure.

Lilongwe is a sanctuary for the animals though, not a zoo.  Visitors may be able to catch a glimpse of the lions in the trees or by a pond, but this can’t be guaranteed.  Observations by staff and volunteers are undertaken discretely as Simba would very much resent being watched, just as we would.
I watched Bella and Simba today, and loved seeing them together.  Bella has very weak back legs and walks with her hind end very low to the ground, as if an enormous weight had been put on her lower back.  She enjoys walking around the enclosure and being close to Simba, and she sees well enough to get around.  Simba has a severe limp and as times his back legs give way altogether, so he does not walk great distances.  He always wants to know where Bella is, however, and will go in search of her if she heads off for a walk and disappears out of sight.

During observations we are looking to estimate how much activity/walking the animals undertake in a 3 hour slot – failure to walk at all would suggest very high levels of pain that day and pain killing medication is tailored each day to their needs. We also note whether the lions are drinking much – too much could indicate a problem with kidneys, too little could end up with problems through dehydration. We also look for any social interaction – this is because Bella can not see well and at times approach Simba from behind, which he finds very upsetting because of course that is where he is weakest.   At times he responds to this with aggression.  Obviously we don’t want the animals to fight, so we need to be aware of how they are responding to each other.  We also look for nasal discharge, coughing and sneezing as these might indicate some form of infection. Behaviours such as repeated licking of fur, repeated yawning, fake chewing/smacking lips, and pacing up and down – these are all signs of stress/boredom, and this is monitored so we can provide so called “enrichment” to give them something to do.  This might be something as simple as changing food pails, changing some landscaping inside the enclosure, or introducing new objects to the enclosure.

So today was a thrilling day for me, although I can’t honestly claim that I believe Simba or Bella were in the slightest bit interested in the numpty peering at them from behind a tree.  I look forward to lots more sessions on lion obs over the next 10 weeks.

Tue 10 May 2016

We had some excitement today with 2 visiting vets who worked with LWS staff to carry out check ups on 3 animals.  The first was Target, a vervet monkey who originally tried, unsuccessfully, to foster Cesar.  Target was caught in a net and then given a tranquilliser  to limit the amount of distress she would suffer during her examinations. This took place in her enclosure, then she was carried inside in a blanket and placed on the examination table.  A hot water bottle was placed underneath her to ensure her core temperature did not drop while she was anaesthetised.

Once Target was comfortably settled a number of tests were carried out.  We had 3 fully qualified vets present for the examination.  Each took part in some way, although one vet was designated to oversee every part of the examination in order that she had the full overview of Target’s health and needs. Alma, our animal rehab manager, observed and recorded everything that was happening including the results of tests being carried out; and a timekeeper reminded us of the time each 5 minutes as it is essential the anaesthetisation is as brief as possible.

Tests included bloods, faecal, checking her for disease or infection, and examining her joints for signs of stiffness or any other injury.  Her eyes were also examined and treated. 

After the examination Target was placed in a small wooden crate with a limited view of her surroundings.  I sat with her until she came around properly, checking regularly to see she did not have a seizure or become unwell in any other way.  She responded well throughout her recovery to my comforting noises (gentle lip smacking and tongue clicking), by turning to me mournfully with enormous bewildered eyes.  As soon as she was sufficiently recovered she was taken in the crate back to her own enclosure and released to an environment she was happy and comfortable in.  In all the examination was a success, and we await the test results with bated breath. 

The vets then left to undertake two more examinations of animals in their own enclosures, and I returned to the washing pail and a large pile of towels and assorted cloths to wash.

Today I was able to see a night camera recording of our 3 hedgehogs. This showed that the single adult hedgehog was pacing the back wall of the enclosure all night, indicating she is suffering stress. She is of course used to being in the wild, so being in an enclosure, no matter that it is large and well laid out with branches and leaves and so on, is still distressing for her.  The mother and baby are wrapped up in each other and do not show any signs of anxiety or distress.  So we need to tackle the issue of the lone adult hedgehog’s anxiety before it develops into a potentially more significant and longer lasting mental health problem.

The hedgehogs like to be fully covered up when they sleep so no prey can find them.  We have two cardboard boxes lined with old towels, and the hedgehogs seem to like these very much.  I can see why, there are no holes or cracks so the cover is very substantial.  I find the adult female sleeping at the back of one cardboard box, and move her to a new spot without waking her.  Mum and baby I find curled up together beneath a pile of leaves and branches.  I leave this, so as not to disturb them.  The rest of the enclosure I totally rearrange. They will wake up tonight to a magical world of Egyptian pyramids and Swiss mountains.  Well, OK, perhaps not quite.  But it is certainly very changed.  Previous recordings have shown that she will spend tonight exploring the enclosure minutely, a healthy and soothing activity. 

Tomorrow the hedgehogs will all be weighed, and if they are a healthy weight they will be taken to Kisumu National Park and released back in to the wild.  Some might – legitimately – wonder whether it is ‘worth’ caring for an animal as common as a hedgehog in such an expensive facility. This reminds me of the starfish story, reproduced below for those of you who haven’t heard of it before.

“Once upon a time, there was an old man who used to go to the ocean to do his writing.  He had a habit of walking on the beach every morning before he began his work.  Early one morning, he was walking along the shore after a big storm had passed and found the vast beach littered with starfish as far as the eye could see, stretching in both directions.

Off in the distance, the old man noticed a small boy approaching.  As the boy walked, he paused every so often and as he grew closer, the man could see that he was occasionally bending down to pick up an object and throw it into the sea.  The boy came closer still and the man called out “Good morning! Can I ask you what you’re doing?”

The young boy paused, looked up, and replied “Throwing starfish into the ocean.  The tide has washed them up onto the beach and they can’t return to the sea by themselves.  When the sun gets high, they will die, unless I throw them back into the water.”

The old man replied, “But there must be tens of thousands of starfish on this beach, I’m afraid you won’t really be able to make much of a difference.”

The boy bent down, picked up yet another starfish and threw it as far as he could into the ocean.  Then he turned, smiled and said, “It made a difference to that one!”

These facilities are built for any distressed animal.  Of course we would like to have endangered species and unusual animals, but it would be pointless refusing the less exotic animal when there is plenty of space for them.  Our super common animals include hedgehogs, vervet monkeys, and an extraordinarily narky dove.  He has very few feathers, is underweight and looks permanently annoyed.  Of course, we have no idea how it got in such bad condition.  It has been refusing food, and the vet is having to feed it by putting a tube down its throat 3 or 4 times a day and syringing it in.  Fingers crossed the grumpy little soul will get his zest for life back and starting eating again soon.

Monday 9 May 2016

An interesting morning spent in Area 23, a district in Lilongwe, which has received the gift of briquette making equipment.  The equipment was donated to a small group of women to enable them to provide extra income for their families.  Such small scale projects are often very successful because they target the females who can be relied on to do the work, and make sure all profits are spent on their children’s food, education and care. 

Malawi’s National Energy Policy estimates that 93% of Malawi’s total energy demand is met by biomass energy (wood/charcoal). Charcoal is produced from wood, over 60% of which is made from wood originating from protected Forest Reserves and National Parks. In total, 99% of household energy is supplied by wood/charcoal. This, along with increasing population growth, is placing massive pressure on the country’s forest resources, leading to forest degradation and deforestation at a rate of 2.6% per year. And of course, homelessness and starvation for a large number and variety of vulnerable animals. 

In terms of electricity, less than 7% of the 14 million people are connected to the national grid.  The cost of electricity is very high and rising - tariffs were raised by 84% in 2013 alone.  As a result less than 2.3% of the total national energy demand is met by electricity – which is perhaps just as well because there are continual power cuts anyway.

Hence, the briquettes.  They are made out of a mixture of paper and sawdust.  In Lilongwe we are very fortunate that the local newspaper business are willing to donate their waste paper to the project, so this is collected and shredded before being delivered to Area 23.  Sponsors also purchase sawdust and donate it to the project.  Our goal this morning was to make some briquettes with some of the local ladies, partly so we could see how they were made, and partly to cement positive relations with the community surrounding the Sanctuary.

I’m not sure if I have expressed this very strongly before on this blog, but the community surrounding the Sanctuary are by no means impressed with the work undertaken here.  Many of the animals we care for are thought of as pests and vermin; others, like the owl and chameleon are actively disliked and distrusted because of local beliefs connecting them with witchcraft.  If we want Africa, specifically Malawi in this case, to value their forests/animals/environments, we need to engage the interest and support of Malawians.  Briquette making is a good example of this.  If this system is introduced carefully, locals will realise they have much to win and nothing at all to lose from making and using briquettes.

I have a series of photographs to show the briquette making process, which is very simple and not too physically demanding. 

Stage 1: Soak paper strips in cold water for 5 minutes

Stage 2: place wet paper strip in wooden bucket and pound for 15-30 minutes until soft and mashy.

Stage 3: place mashed paper into bowl and add sawdust.

Stage 4: add water to the bucket until you have a watery porridge like substance

Stage 5: pour 2 cups of the porridge into each of the cylinders

Stage 6: place a metal disc on top of the porridge and press down to drain out water

Repeat stages 5 and 6 two more times.

Stage 7: place black cylinders on the top disc and screw down presser until all water has been expelled

Stage 8: remove presser, cylinders and discs and place individual briquettes in sun for drying.  Today this took about 2 hours, but in summer I guess it would take much less.

I left today with more questions than answers around the whole issue of Briquette making as a social enterprise.  The equipment apparently cost 60,000 Malawi Kwacha, which is about £60.  This is far beyond the resources of the vast majority of Malawi’s, but not in itself an impossible sum. The briquettes can easily be made, dried, and transported to market for sale.   The cost of a briquette is less that the cost of the equivalent amount of firewood.  A major problem, however, is that the vast majority of Malawi’s have never heard of the briquettes so of course they don’t buy them.  As we know, adults are very slow to change any habits they form, even when that behaviour is very detrimental to their own health and wellbeing (e.g. smoking) so marketing is proving difficult. 

The briquettes are a great idea but a number of projects have failed because:

makers are unable to afford to purchase paper/sawdust.

briquettes can be difficult to market

After a very interesting morning cogitating on the above, I spent a happy afternoon with a machete and an enormous, I mean enormous, sack of pumpkins.  I was in the mood for action, and cut up about 150 pumpkins for animal consumption – the baboons, monkeys, antelope, just about anyone who stays here. The Malawi’s huddled together a good 10 meters away and used the kitchen knives to cut up pumpkins while I let loose with the machete and hacked my lot to bits.  Afterwards, we went and threw them into the animal enclosures, ensuring some landed deep in amongst the trees, while some stayed much closer to the wire.  This ensures all animals are able to scavenge and eat, whereas if we placed the food closer together the dominant species would get all of it.

Job done.  Off for a shower and to apply deet before the mossies come out.

Sunday 8 May 2016

I purchased a newspaper today for its interesting headline, which was 17 albinos killed.  I had heard it rumoured that Malawis did not like albinos recently when discussion had arisen about a local albino beggar who was very aggressive to a female staff member, telling her she was too old to be unmarried (marriage of a female can still take place as 12 years of age in Malawi rural areas).  The newspaper heading was quite a shock though, as I hadn’t realised this was such a major issue.  However, in addition to the murders, assaults and kidnaps by the so called albino hunters, 28 graves of albinos have been tampered with. Here is an extract from the paper, quotes from Peter Mutharika, President of Malawi:

“It is disheartening to hear of the rising incidences of abductions, killings and exhumations of the remains of people with albinism” bemoaned Mutharika, during an audience he had with people living with albinism in Lilongwe on Thursday.  He further lamented:  “Two months ago, we were talking of about 50 cases. Today, we have 66 cases recorded, for abductions, trespassing of graveyards, being found with human bones, suicide, assault of bodily harm, conduct likely to cause breach of the peace, and killings of people with albinism”   The Sunday Times (Malawi), Analysis, May 8 2016 p3

Later at a café I was discussing this with two Malawi males, Happy George and Anthony Thawali, whose eyes lit up with enthusiasm when they saw the headline in my newspaper.  So enthusiastic were they that they actually started taking photos of the front page on their mobile phones (the Malawis ALL seem to have mobiles).  It took me a while to realise that the boy’s reaction to the headline was because they were excited at the thought of the money being made by the albino hunters.  Happy George told enthusiastically about a friend of theirs who complained that he was always very tired in the mornings and throughout the day.  He went to a witchdoctor who told him that at night demons were playing with his body, making it dance in the air and do other wild things while he slept.  This was why he was so tired the next day.  The witchdoctor gave the man a piece of albino bones with some herbs to put underneath his pillow at night.  He did so, and has had no more difficulty with daytime tiredness.  Happy George explained that the demons were unable to find this man in his bed because the witchcraft protected it, so all the demons saw was a river.  The boys nodded with satisfaction at the effectiveness of the witchdoctors, and I sat dumbfounded for a bit, not sure where to go next with the conversation. Then I asked them where the witchdoctors come from, and how they learnt their craft.  The boys explained that they are children from normal families but learn the language of witches very young, when no one is looking.  Then when they are older they practise their art as witches, and (if they are not caught and killed for being witches) later turn to the good side, as it were, and become witchdoctors, fighting the bad magic of the witches and demons.  They boys left after telling me that the bones of an albino could be sold for 6 million kwacha (about £60,000 – a phenomenal sum to a local who probably early only about 1 dollar a day).

After the boys left I continued to browse the newspaper further. A male teenager with albinism went to watch a football match on 24^th April and went missing. His body was found on 2 May with hands and feet chopped off.  A 30 year old female went missing 30 April and was found with breasts missing and eyes gouged out. A two-year old girl disappeared on 3 April and on 15^th April her skull, teeth and clothes were found in a neighbouring village.  The stories go on and on.  Malawi is a small country, and all of these incidents and many more have taken place close to Lilongwe.

The United Nations human rights experts as well as Amnesty International have made representations to the Malawi government on behalf of the albinos.  The Association of Persons with Albinism in Malawi (APAM) executive director Boniface Massah  has referred to further superstitions regarding albinos including that having sex with someone with albinism will cure HIV, and possessing body parts of someone with albinism with bring sudden riches.

This last comment may explain the reason the killing of albinos has suddenly become a major issues.  Large grants given to Malawi for relief of poverty and hunger of those in greatest need have, needless to say, been stolen by members of the government.  Additionally, crops have failed for the last few years, so that the poorest are now in a desperate condition. 

Witchcraft remains an issue in Africa, and has been discussed at the Sanctuary in relation to some of the animals here.  Malawi’s fear owls because of the way their heads turn 180 degrees.  And chameleons because of the way they changes colour.  Local staff working on the construction of a new aviary have voiced concerns because they are working next to an owl enclosure, and they are convinced it has supernatural powers.  It’s hard to believe as I write this that such issues still exist in this day and age, but they are very real and very challenging here. 

Saturday 7 May 2016

I started the day feeding Frank, cleaning out the orphan care unit and washing the towels, uniforms and other cloth materials that needed cleaning.  There is no washing machine, obviously, but instead we have a 4 bowel system, each bowl being about 6 – 8 times the size of a washing up bowl in the UK. Bowl 1 has water and washing powder, bowl 2 is clean water, bowl 3 is bleach water, bowl 4 is clean water. 

First, you take one item out of the pile and flap it energetically to get rid of monkey poop and other unmentionables.  Then into 1, a bit of kneading, and onto the wooden planks.  There the cloth is stretched out and examined for marks, which are manually scrubbed by an sweat soaked operative with a wooden scrubbing brush, to wit, me.  Then kneading it on the warm wooden planks, which is surprisingly therapeutic.  The washing powder has made the cloth soft and sweet smelling, and the kneading causing the aroma to rise in the warm air. A soft cool breeze, the gentle movement of exotic trees in the wind and the calls of birds, lions and monkeys – what’s not to love?  I could have stayed there all day, happily pounding bits of old towel.  Buy hey ho, there are monkeys bums to wipe.  So I take the cloth back to bowl 1, rinse it out, and put it in bowl 2 for a soak.  And back to the pile for the next dirty cloth.  Each piece of cloth is treated in the same way, then all are transferred to bowl 3, the bleach bowl, at which point I potter off for a drink of water and to do a couple of other small jobs while the items soak.  Then it’s into the rinse, hand wring, and up on the washing like.  I did a crap job of wringing the water out but the Malawi sun and the soft warm breezes will soon have them dry anyway. Actually, I sort of did a crap job of washing too, if the aim of washing the clothes is to get them white.  Fortunately, it isn’t.  These rags and clothes have had intimate contact with too many anal passages to ever see white again, to which the rich multi shaded hue of the rags is testament.  No need to get obsessive about getting a blue white glow here. So I finish off rinsing, hang them, and after an hour in the Malawi sunshine, they are wonderfully dry.  I fold them all up, find the smallest one, and go and wipe a monkeys bum with it.  It’s called the Circle Of Life.  Watch your Lion King and learn.

My next task was to clean out the antiseptic foot baths placed around the orphan care part of the sanctuary.  The first day I arrived, while being shown around the facilities, I was a little taken back by these.  I saw my guide dip each boot into the foot bath, and tried to work out exactly what form of exotica this was.  It had the appearance of a square of very dead turf, or some kind of peat.  I tried to think where there might be peat in the area, and knowing less than nothing of African geography, couldn’t imagine.  Perhaps it was a hessian bag of sand? I put my trainer into the foot bath expecting to meet resistance but this didn’t happen, my trainer hit the bottom of the foot bath and cold dirty water flooded my foot.  Lots of apologies were called out, a touching habit of the Malawi’s being that they always apologise when you are making a fool of yourself.  Hastily, I withdrew my soaking foot and carried on with the tour, still wondering what was in the foot baths   I shelved the problem back then, but now I had the change to examine this unusual item intimately and see what I could make of it.  Of course, it turned out to be a lump of old bed mattress sponge soaked in bleach.  Fooled again. This is Africa.  What’s the matter with me?  

Friday 6 May 2016

I start the day feeding Frank, of whom I have become exceedingly fond.  Today he hurries to meet me at the wire, clamps straight on to the bottle and begins sucking in earnest.  He knows the teat needs to be released periodically to allow air to follow back into the bottle, and does this in a timely fashion.  His beautiful brown eyes search my face anxiously, probably looking for any sign that I may attack.  Foster mum Target hurries up behind him and, slipping her arms around his waist and stomach, hugs the bottom portion of him to her fiercely.  She look me in the eyes briefly while continuing to hug Frank, then begins to groom him as he continues to feed.  When Frank is sated, they adjourn to a few feet away to do a little grooming, then Frank comes back for a second, less urgent feed.  I pick up a large Chamwamba* tree leaf and push it past the wire, and both Frank and Target seize on this with interest. Frank wins the tug of war, and Target moves further away and begins picking at something on the floor.  Frank follows then plumps himself down back to back with her, then places his two back legs on her lower back and starts pushing them up her back until his unmentionables are on her head, and her tail is in his face.  In this unusual position, he stays contentedly, chewing at the leaf.  Meanwhile Target site passively with two testicles peeping coyly over one ear like a stylish hat.  Happy in their togetherness, I reluctantly leave them, and head back to the Orphan Care department to start on morning cleaning.

My next job is to feed our 3 resident hedgehogs, to wit, a mother and baby, and a lone adult female.  There are 4 species of African hedgehogs (genus Atelerix) including pygmy hedgehogs which are sometimes kept as pets. They are nocturnal, of course, and essentially terrestrial, although they can also climb and swim (http://www.britannica.com/animal/hedgehog-mammal) Here is some useless information for you : the name hedgehog came into use in the UK around the year 1450, derived from the Middle English heyghoge, from heyg, hegge ("hedge"), because it frequents hedgerows, and hoge, hogge ("hog"), from its piglike snout. As with monkeys, hedgehogs are considered vermin here, and for the most part they are ignored or killed.  However no animal is refused treatment here at the sanctuary, and our head of rehabilitation, Alma, has already assessed the hedgehogs, written a food and care plan for them, and checked their weight.  The baby and lone adult female are underweight but otherwise they seem healthy and are excellent candidates for release, which will happen as soon as they have gained enough weight.  I weight out wet dog food, dry dog biscuits (soaked in a teaspoon of hot water to soften), cat biscuits (left crunchy), egg, fruit and vegetables, mix them and take them out to their enclosure which is in quarantine at present.  We weighed each of them, lifting each prickly ball and placing it on the scale in turn.  There are variously sized cardboard boxes around the enclosure, along with plenty of branches, leaves and grass. The hedgehogs seem to like the cardboard boxes most, and I suppose it does provide very snug and complete protection from any potential threat.  We have to prise them out of the boxes gently and put them on the scale. All are sleeping soundly, and are most reluctant to wake.  Slowly they begin to uncurl, a slow kaleidoscope of spiral of brown spines revealing paler ones,  then cream spines and finally delicate looking fine spines of the purest cream on their faces and tummies. Their eyes open, and they peer in bemusement at us as we write down our weights. Each is then lifted again very carefully and placed back where we found them.  The most inoffensive little creatures in the world, may they be ten thousand times  blessed. (I heard they go well with potato and a little redcurrant sauce).

Walking p back to the volunteer facilities via the sanctuary’s very own Co-Co bean café this morning we saw some of the wild vervet monkeys prowling around.  The local wild vervets have been getting bolder and bolder, which is a problem, because they steal things. And of course monkeys are very clever, although we were not sure how clever. One walked up to a bin very close to the cafe and sniffed it.  My colleague and I began a discussion around whether or not it would occur to him to look in the bin for food, but he began to stroll away so we concluded probably not.  Still, out of curiosity, we stopped as we came to the end of the walkway to watch.  The monkey had been swaggering away nonchalantly from the bin, but once we had apparently left the area, he returned quickly, stepped behind a tree and (I swear this is true) sucked in his abdominals, peered around the tree, then out came one black claw and effortlessly, he whipped up the lid.   He bent for a quick sniff, plucked something out, put back the lid and scampered off with his spoils further into the bush.  So there you go.  One of the parties at The Meeting Of The Bin was an idiot, and it obviously wasen’t the monkey.

A quick reminder again - I do not have any photos of Frank or any of the other animals we have here to post because we are careful not to humanise them by making them over familiar/dependent on us, through chatting to them, hanging around their cages and/or taking photos.  All the photos on the blog are from google images, but I post them because it gives the reader a very good idea of the animals I am working with (and anyway they are soooooo beautiful, who wouldn't want to see these little gorgeous things)..

*The Chamwamba (Moringa Olifera - The Horseradish Tree) The Moringa tree is native to parts of India, Afghanistan, and Bangladesh, but was introduced to Malawi many years ago. It is best known in Malawi by its Chichewa name “Chamwamba”. The Moringa tree is very useful to humans and it is easy to see why Indian settlers would have brought this tree with them. A few of the uses for Chamwamba are:

1. Food: The leaves, flowers, seed pods, seed oil, and roots are all edible. 
2. Leaves: One study has shown that the leaves have 10 times as much vitamin A as carrots, 7 times as much vitamin C as oranges, 4 times as much calcium as milk, three times as much potassium as bananas, and almost the same amount of protein as eggs. The leaves can be used raw, boiled, stir-fried, or added to soups. Flowers: can be cooked and added to other foods, or fried like pumpkin flowers are. They can also be steeped in hot water and used as a tea.
3. Young seed pods: are usually cut into pieces, boiled, and mixed with seasonings. 
4. Roots: can be used when the plant is 60 cm tall. The root is pulled up, scraped, ground, and mixed with vinegar and salt to make a relish similar to horseradish. Care should be taken to remove the root bark completely since it contains harmful alkaloids. Even then, the roots should not be eaten in excess. 
5. Cooking Oil: The dried seeds of Chamwamba contain 40% oil that is close to the quality of olive oil. Water Purification: The crushed seeds of the Moringa tree act as a natural coagulant which binds to solids and bacteria in dirty water, causing them to sink to the bottom. Treatment with this seed powder can produce clean water with 90-99% of the bacteria removed

Thursday 5 May 2016

Today’s early news was that Cesar has been given another foster mother, and this has so far been working very well.  In fact they were last seen curled up together and fast asleep.  Everyone is delighted, except me, I’m feeling all bitter and twisted because this means there is now no hope that he will be given to me to dandle on my knee and coo at.  Life is too tough some times.

Volunteer Facilities

I spent more time admiring our volunteer facilities today. We have a dedicated brick building in the centre of the Sanctuary, with brick wall dividing toilet, 2 shower cubicles, kitchen and living room.  A bamboo wall has been constructed to allow for sleeping quarters (unisex) with 11 bunk beds.   The bunks all have floor to ceiling weighted mosquito nets, and windows that are permanently open, also with mosquito nets.  The inside of the volunteer hut is very dark, having very few windows, but so far it has always been cool when I have used it, which is excellent.

I had been delighted when I arrived to find we had a flushing toilet (there are 2 on the site).  I had expected something very much more primitive involving buckets and a bit of business with old newspapers or sawdust, but this facility exceeded all my expectations.  The sink is a marvel.  I have posted a picture so you can check it out for yourself.  You can see what they were thinking when they designed it – it needed to be tough, something that couldn’t easily be damaged – after all, what if elephants want to swing on it? The end product is, I will bet money on it, unbreakable.  I wonder if Alan Sugar would be interested?

We also have a shower right next to the toilet.  It has hot and cold running water – if there is water, which is always questionable.  Showers (if there is water) are very brief.  There have been periods of as much as 10 days without running water which is extremely hard work for everyone, necessitating a lot of fetching and carrying in order to meet the needs of the animals, the humans being a very dilatory second place.  But the water shortage is not just here at the sanctuary, or in Lilongwe, but nationwide.  It is reported that at least 2.8 million people, of whom 1.5 million are children, are facing a food shortage here due to the severe drought. Lack of rains have resulted in crop failure making this year's harvest – which typically takes place in March and April – almost impossible for thousands of households.

Back at the sanctuary all drinking water is bottled, and as the containers are naturally very heavy they need to be ferried about by the male staff.  I can see why the Malawi way of life is so slow – even the most basic acts – preparing food, brushing your teeth, getting a drink – involve all sorts of planning.   And we have it easy because we have electricity (some) and running water (much of the time).  Perhaps the slow and unhurried pace of the Malawian is because everything takes as long as it takes and there is no point trying to hurry things along. 

There is a bar/cafe/restaurant here for the use of staff, volunteers and visitors, and below is a picture.  It is a delightful place to sit and ponder:

I handed over my small offering gathered from family and friends based on the sanctuary’s wish list.  Pretty coloured pencil, staplers and files for the school.  Some games for the volunteer house. And some pretty unpromising tools – a set of screwdrivers; a big staple gun; a nail gun; and a power jigsaw.  All the items were received with apparent pleasure, but when one of the maintenance men appeared he reacted to the nail gun with outright glee.  As I have nowhere to put them and no idea how to use them anyway, its a relief to find them a good home. 

One delightful discovery today was finding out there was no need to use deet spray until after dark which is when the mosquitoes are out.  Which is great news as a) I hate the smell of the stuff, and b) my supplies will last with such restricted usage. 

By the way, I have a confession to make.  Some people have commented on the pictures on the monkeys I have posted.  I meant to say before that these photos are not of the monkeys here.  No one is allowed to hang around by the animals enclosures, talk to the animals, try to attract their attention or take photos.  The priority of the sanctuary is preparing the animals for release into the wild, and so it is essential they do not become humanised i.e. accustomed to/dependent on humans. Monkeys that develop a bond or dependence on humans  may seek their company after release, but most Malawian’s will stone/kill monkeys who approach them or their homes.  For very good reasons of course.  But this is why we make sure we do not form any kind of bond with the animals, their bond with their own species is what they need to be concentrating on.  These are the relationships that will sustain them after release. So, I trawled the websites of a number of different sanctuaries to get these pictures, showing monkeys all but identical to those we care for here.  

I will add that the animals that can not be released, and will therefore be here for the rest of their lives, can be chatted to and photographed.  Below are pictures of one of the lions, one of the roads in the sanctuary leading up to the volunteer center, and the orphan food preparation area.  If you cant work out which is which, you are beyond my help, and I suggest you give up attempting to read this blog.