WILD LIFE is a book like no other. Not content with portraying the Luangwa Valley in pictures alone, Francois d’Elbee teamed up with well-known artist and writer Vic Guhrs to collaborate on an extensive exploration of the place that was until recently known in Safari circles as ‘Africa’s best-kept secret’.

           

The result is an intimate look at the people who have made it what it is today – the  pioneers, the game rangers and safari operators and guides, and of course the animals that  inhabit this 700 km long stretch of wilderness, the southernmost tip  of Africa’s Great Rift Valley.  

 

 

 

 

Francois d’Elbee and Vic Guhrs are no strangers to the Valley. One a frequent visitor, the other a long-term resident, they have long known the Park’s different moods, its high times and low, and its indefinable magic.

 

In this book they invite you on their journey while they aim their cameras and notebooks at the Valley’s residents, human and animal, looking for answers to the old questions: What is it about wilderness that enchants our souls, what do wild animals mean to us and why do we need to preserve them.

Vic Guhrs has known the Luangwa Valley for over thirty years, and has been closely linked to the family of its foremost resident, Zambia’s great conservationist, Norman Carr. From Norman Carr’s early days as the district’s Elephant Control Officer, Guhrs takes us on a journey through time; from the days of the first ramshackle safari camps, through the poaching epidemic of the 80’s when the Valley lost three quarters of its elephants and all of its 5000 black rhinos to organized poaching gangs, to the present day, when lodges are run by businessmen who love wildlife, no longer by wildlife lovers with little business sense.

 

 

Like expert safari guides, Guhrs and d’Elbee lead the reader into the hidden corners of this National Park. But where the casual visitor tends to experience a limited view from the back of a game –viewing vehicle, we are taken behind the scenes. The smooth operation of a safari lodge, bush camp or walking safari in such a remote place is seldom trouble-free. There are supply problems, fuel shortages, vehicle breakdowns, obstructions by a meddlesome and revenue-hungry bureaucracy.

 


Often the safari operators are at loggerheads with government whose tourism policy may be ambivalent, unclear in its priorities, and sometimes downright controversial. This book takes us into the heart of these conflicts, and also offers an insight into the age-old feud between the local villagers and the wild animals who threaten to destroy their crops, their livelihoods, and sometimes their lives.

Today, the elephants are coming back, black rhinos have been reintroduced, albeit on a modest scale; a small beginning of what might one day become a viable breeding population again.

But a national park is not only an animal refuge. The small communities that have for centuries lived on its boundaries regarded the hunting of the game as their birthright; without their support all conservation efforts would fail. In a country where poverty is the rule, you cannot tell a hungry man not to hunt unless you show him the tangible benefits of conservation too. Norman Carr recognized this fact sixty years ago, when he channeled revenues from the first tourist camp to the people of chief Nsefu.  Today it is common practice to involve local communities, and park entry fees as well as hunting revenues go to the Zambia Wildlife Authority or directly to the people (via community revenue boards). 

Partly as a result of these policies, the local population at the fringe of South Luangwa is thriving. Small shops with picturesque names like ‘Two Beers Paradise’, ‘Try Again Enterprise’ and ‘Game Over’ line the main road. There are small markets, used-clothing racks, even a hairdresser or two.  But although it shows that the system is working and the people are reaping the benefits - directly or indirectly - of tourism, it is not without drawbacks: Poaching (particularly the practice of random wire snaring) is on the increase. Tree felling for firewood, fishing, and the encroachment of large-scale agriculture all pose serious threats.

All over Africa, eco-tourism is vying for the support of local communities against the ‘threat’ (or the tempting apple) of agriculture, mining, and urban expansion with its promise to benefit the people – all the people. Which is the correct land-use model? Which has more chance of success, or, more to the point, where and how can a reasonable compromise be found?

Rachel Mc Robb, operations manager of the South Luangwa Conservation Society, merits a special mention in the book. The SLCS is a privately funded organisation that had its origins in the voluntary group of Honorary Wildlife Police Officers.

Rachel is so passionate about wild animals that for years she did her anti-poaching work without pay. Working as a camp caterer and guide during the season, she saved her salary, even solicited donations from clients, so that she could mobilise patrols during the rains, often paying for the scouts’ wages herself.

 

Today she is in charge of the society and directs a team of well-equipped and dedicated anti-poaching scouts. Apart from education and directing anti-poaching patrols, a large part of her time these days in taken up by darting snared animals and removing snares. Some animals she manages to save, for others it is too late.

           

In a world previously dominated by the starched-khaki macho game ranger, it may be surprising to find the wellbeing of these creatures in the hands of a young woman. But she is not alone.

 

Among the current crop of people who shape the future of the Park, we learn, many are female.

 

We meet Bridget Mwape Nacacinda, who is a seamstress by day and a local politician in her free time. Gillie Lightfoot, owner of the most successful business in the Eastern province, Tara who is trying to build a lodge while keeping her cool in Africa’s hot and often frustrating climate. Miranda who enchants visitors and local villagers alike with the performances of her theatre group, Rose Jere, Zambia’s first female guide, among others.
 

Accompanying these stories and portraits of the Valley’s most prominent human residents is a sequence of stunning photographs of the Valley’s other denizens. The rare wild dogs, the lions and leopards. Breathtaking landscapes, giraffe in the last evening light when the bush is at its most mysterious and silent. Hippos cavorting, fighting, and running for cover, and always the presence of elephants. Francois d’Elbee has trained his eye to seek the unusual, the enchanting, the mysterious, and finds beauty in unexpected places.

Like the National Park it portrays, the book is not a lightweight. It measures 28x33 cm and contains 264 pages of text and photographs, many of them in full colour.