ANIMAL STORY

The great Impala leader guided his herd northwards to better pastures. The dry season had been too long and there was little vegetation left to graze. The stag, following his instincts, lead the flock through the valleys of the foothills of Mount Kilimanjaro. They passed by the big lake, but they kept a safe distance from it.

“Chief, can we not go to have a sip of water from the lake?” asked one of the herd.

“No, it’s too risky. Many animals drink from the lake and hunters always roam in such places,” the leader replied. “We shall drink from the brooks coming down from the hills further along the trail.”

The plain was just ahead, behind the slopes. As they reached the top of a slope, the leader stopped. His companions imitated him. He remained motionless sniffing the air, and, occasionally, moving his ears slightly and wagging his short tail nervously. There was danger ahead!

The herd stood waiting for his command. It was obvious that he could hear something. It sounded more like human voices and the noise of engines, than any animal’s roar.

“What is it Grandpa? Is it humans?” a young animal asked from nearby.

“Yes! They are destroying everything! They want to create an airport on our plain. They are invading our land, clearing it of us animals.” He answered, keeping his full attention on the noises. The wind was coming towards them and now he could clearly hear the humans talking.

“How come you understand the human language Grandpa? They say that you lived with them. Is it true?”

By now the herd had surrounded their leader. They all waited for his words. He turned and said, with a sigh; “Yes. We must leave this place. We must go further north, towards the salt lakes. There are some good, safe valleys there where we can stay and graze. Don’t worry. I know the places. I’ve been there before,” he announced .

They carried on uphill at a steady pace. They had gained some altitude on the mountain when, down on the plain, they heard a gunshot. They all stood, petrified. More shots followed. They looked back and saw a mixed flock of zebras and impalas stampeding, terrified.

Human laughter and cheering was heard. Bulldozers were moving about on the plain chasing the animals away from their pastures. The Impala leader was watching with a sad expression in his eyes. Sorrowfully he said, “We had better move out now.”

He quickly galloped away, followed by the others. They did not stop until the plain was completely out of sight. Then the leader slowed his pace and guided the flock up and down the slopes, passing Kipongoto hospital, avoiding Sanya, the local village, then through the coffee plantations.

He stopped at the top of a slope and gazed down onto a small, ruined, house in the valley below. It seemed deserted as did the rest of the smaller buildings around it. He stood, lost in thought, majestic and motionless, his golden fleece shining in the sun. The rest of the company gradually approached and surrounded him. One asked: “What is it Grandpa? Is there danger again?”

He turned slowly towards them and said: “No, there is no danger this time. I was born here! You see those bushes just a few meters from the little house? That is the place I was born and the place I was kidnapped. That is where I saw a human for the first time.” He paused, and then continued: “I remember, I had just seen light for the first time and felt my mother’s tenderness as she licked me all over. She was talking to me softly, trying to encourage me to stand on my feet. I tried, but my legs were weak and numb. I could barely move them.

“Then my mother became agitated. She urged me to move, to run. She pushed me with her head and she tried to pull me by my fleece. ‘Come on little baby. Try to move. We must run. There is great danger. Someone is coming. Run. Run!’ she begged me I turned my head and saw a man holding a stick, waving it menacingly towards my mother as he approached. I tried to move, but just as I stood on my weak legs, I fell down again. I heard a thwack. He had hit my mother with the stick. She fled away, crying desperately, her shrill, painful cry reverberating through the valley. I cannot forget that cry. It still echoes in my ears, even though so many years have passed by.

“Holding me tight under his arm, the man passed in front of a veranda attached to a big house. There was a little girl playing on the veranda and she saw me. Immediately she called the man and asked him to give me to her. He refused and she called her father. He gave the man some money, talked to him severely. The little girl gently took me in her arms and placed me on her lap. While she was caressing me she said. “Oh! Poor little one, he took you away from your Mummy. Don’t cry! My Mummy and Daddy will be yours as well. We shall find your Mummy one day. Do not be afraid. I love you. We all love you.”

“Her father said. ‘We must give the little one a name. We’ll call him Riki! It’s a nice name, don’t you think?’

“The little girl’s mother said ‘Yes, it is a nice name. Baby Riki must be hungry by now. We must feed him. I’ll find the milk bottle I used to feed you from.’ .

“’Yes, yes.’ the father said and turned to someone, who was standing by. ‘Jonas, please go to the stable and bring some goat’s milk’

“That was the beginning of my adoption by a human family. They were all very kind to me. Jonas, who was very kind-hearted, considerate and caring, brought the milk and helped the little girl to feed me. I grew up as a member of that family. I had a father, mother and a sister, who loved me so much and were always with me, talking to me, trying to console me. I also had Jonas, who cared about everything and everybody. I was happy and content, but I never forgot my mother. In fact, there were times when I missed her too much, especially when I was fed. Jonas went three or more times a day, to fetch milk from the goats, and, every time he did this, I remembered my mother. Of course the ‘bad man’ was gone. He was sent away. Father didn’t like his attitude, so I was a perfectly safe little impala orphan. I was secure, loved and cared for in the human family and that is how I learned to understand the human language.

“One day, when I was eating grass and playing with ‘Jim’, a big black dog, the little girl came to me. ‘Oh Riki,’ she said tearfully, ‘I have to go away to school. I will be back for holidays though.’ She hugged me and kissed me. ‘I will be back in two months, remember me, please, remember that I love you.’ She turned to Jonas and said, ‘Please, Jonas, look after Riki for me.’

“That afternoon a car came and I saw tears in her eyes as it drove away carrying my sister with it. I watched until it disappeared behind the slope.

“She did not return. The father’s health deteriorated, and just before the long, expected school holidays, he died. The mother went away to the town. A neighbour took the dog. I had lost my family again.

“Jonas led me into the forest, looking for my impala mother. We searched for days. One day the Gods smiled on us. We found a herd, this herd! I was thrilled and excited, I recognised my mother! When at last I stopped cavorting with my mother, new sisters and father, I returned to Jonas who was waiting patiently.

“’You see little Riki!’ Jonas said, ‘We have found your true family. Now you must remember always to be very careful. Never trust humans and beware of hungry hunters.’ He kissed me on my head, and patted my back and I joined the rest of the herd. The herd leader, being a wise old impala, decided that we should follow Jonas since it was safer to be near a friendly human, as we travelled to the good pastures on the plain of the Usambaras.

“I visited Jonas on the rocks near his village, quite often and, one day, he told me that little Missy, my human sister and her Mama, were now living in a valley near the river which passed by his village. I followed the river and finally found the house in which she lived. I hid in the dense bushes on the riverside and saw her. She had grown-up so much! I wanted to go near her. I knew how glad she would be to see me, but there was another girl with her and a man holding a gun came behind them. Jonas had instructed me to be very careful. I was. I remained hidden. I saw her every time she came on holidays until, one day Jonas told me she would be leaving for good. That day I stayed much longer, watching her. Jonas went to the house and said goodbye and then met me by the river, near the path to his village. This was the last time I saw my little human sister.

“I visited Jonas occasionally until he was too old to climb on the rocks. Later I took over the leadership of our herd.”

Riki had tears in his eyes as he finished his story. Looking down to the old house he said, “The old mango tree is enormous and I see the monkeys are having a party. Look at the pomegranate tree, too; it’s in full blossom. Bright, red, little flowers! These are signs of the continuation of life! I remember when my little human sister and her father planted that tree. We will go to the pasture behind the house. We should not be interrupted by any human presence.”

So Riki the Impala finally returned home. He led the tired herd to graze, undisturbed, in the familiar pastures in the foothills of Kilimanjaro Mountain.