This Week at Angama #403

Noticeably, Craig has begun his eastward journey from Amboseli National Park towards Kimana Sanctuary and beyond to Kuku. Every November, almost like clockwork, the old bull is prompted by the short rains, drawing him closer to the promise of fresh, tender shoots.

Ever the wise wanderer, Craig follows the Corridor by day and waits patiently for nightfall to cross the narrow pinch point along the main tarmac road, choosing the quiet hours when traffic is minimal. 

Once inside the Sanctuary, Craig quenches his thirst from the permanent river that winds through it, a welcome relief after a long day without access to water.

In the early mornings, he’s often seen leaving the Tortilis woodlands, heading west toward the bushier area where the grass is lush and water is close by. We caught up with him there, in the company of Townsend and another bull, perfectly framed against the towering backdrop of Mount Kilimanjaro. 

On an early morning drive through Kimana Sanctuary, we set out in search of the lioness with four cubs, the same mother who was reunited with her lost cub last week. Instead, we stumbled upon her wildebeest kill.

The carcass, however, was no longer hers. Osunash had taken over, feeding with his usual dominance. With his powerful sense of smell, he had likely tracked down the kill, forcing the mother to retreat, her instinct to protect her cubs outweighing any urge to fight for the meal.

Not far from Osunash, we found Male 263 once again mating with the same female who had previously been with both him and Osunash, a tangled dance of dominance and desire.

The more aggressive of the two males, M263, guarded her closely, emitting deep rumbling growls whenever she tried to move away. His possessiveness was clear, as was her irritation, the pair locked in a tense balance between aggression and attraction. 

A short distance away, the other lioness rested with the three cubs, their eyes fixed in the direction of Osunash feasting on the wildebeest. With little hope of accessing the meal, the mothers eventually gave up and retreated with the cubs to a shaded resting spot.

With Kimana Sanctuary’s thriving warthog population, we’ve noticed an encouraging number of piglets this season. Warthogs usually time their breeding with the rains, mating toward the end of the dry season and giving birth five to six months later.

This timing ensures the young are born as the rains bring fresh vegetation, giving mother and piglets the nourishment needed to grow strong.

This hasn’t gone unnoticed by the birds of prey, ever watchful masters of the sky, their eyes sharp enough to catch even the slightest movement below.

Warthog piglets, though quick and alert, are easy targets for these aerial hunters. A typical litter numbers three to four, but only about half survive the perils of drought and predation. When a raptor swoops, the piglets scatter in all directions, leaving their fiercely protective mother struggling to defend them all, creating just the split-second opening a skilled hunter needs to strike. 

Hovering and hunting a prey that’s beneath the water requires precision and extraordinary eyesight. Kingfishers generally hunt throughout the day, but are most active in the early morning and late afternoon, when the light is softer and the water is calmer, making it perfect conditions for spotting fish below the surface. Higher temperatures and sun glare in the middle of the day make them less active, as it is harder to spot fish.

Once a kingfisher spots its target, it dives headfirst with their wings tucked and beak aimed like a spear. With a sharp splash, they often emerge clutching a slippery prize.

Back on its perch, a few quick shakes and firm jabs against a hard surface subdue the catch before it’s swallowed whole, and the hunt is complete.  

While en route to Amboseli National Park, guest Patricia Small witnessed five young male cheetahs moving gracefully across the open plains. Once under their mother's watchful care, these brothers have now reached independence, typically achieved around the age of two. Now that they are navigating life on their own, the coalition will rely on their bond for survival and hunting success.

Such male coalitions are common among cheetahs, often remaining together for years as they hone their hunting skills, establish territories and fend off rivals. —Robert Sayialel

Just fifteen minutes after landing at Kichwa Tembo Airstrip, Guide Johnny and guest Andrew Doggett, were greeted with a rare sighting that set the tone for his stay. As they drove away from the plane and out into the plains, the grass suddenly parted and out stepped the enormous Salt Lick male leopard, Lorngaboli, dragging a freshly taken zebra foal across the open grassland.

Lorngaboli barely paused, his strength and confidence was unmistakable. Every muscle told the story. His sheer size speaks to a new chapter this season; he's thriving on the abundance of wild wildebeest and zebra that have flooded the Triangle in recent weeks and is frequently seen taking advantage of the chaos of the Migration.

Lorngaboli is currently one of the most dominant males in the Mara Triangle. His territory stretches from the military area near the border, all the way north toward Angama Mara. His expanding range, and his boldness to hunt and drag large prey across open country, shows just how secure he feels in his reign. 

Another exceptional moment witnessed by Guide Johnny and the Doggett family came not from a predator but from the next essential phase in the Mara’s natural cycle. A whole chain of scavenger birds had gathered, locked in a dramatic tug-of-war over a piece of meat, a huge lappet-faced vulture bracing against a marabou stork, while a white-backed vulture darted in to snatch scraps between them.

These birds are the clean-up crew of the savannah, ensuring nothing is wasted and disease doesn't spread. The powerful lappet-faced vulture usually tears through the hide first, followed by hooded and white-backed vultures stripping away softer tissue, while marabous use their long bills to reach deep crevices.

Walking through the shaded, quiet pathways of the lodge, I came across a sulphur-breasted bush shrike, one of the most colourful and striking little birds often seen hopping between branches under the canopy. But this time, it carried something far more intriguing than just a twig.

From a distance, it looked like a piece of nesting material, but as I looked closer through the foliage, that ‘stick’ began to twist and fight back. It was, in fact, a stick insect, the master of camouflage, held firmly in the bird’s beak.  

As the sun began to sink behind the hills, the rocks around the lodge radiated the last warmth of the day. That’s when Arnold spotted a female Agama lizard basking on a dark, lichen-covered rock. Unlike the brightly coloured males that dominate the open rocks in flashes of red and blue, the female carries a subdued beauty. Her scales shimmered in earthy shades of copper and grey, blending with the volcanic stone. Cautious but calm, she kept a watchful eye on her surroundings, occasionally lifting her head to assess a shifting shadow.

Females tend to stay closer to cover, venturing out mainly to feed or bask, while males patrol more openly, defending their territory. 

Guide Sophie and her guest, Libby, spent a magical rainy afternoon with the River Pride, watching two lionesses and their playful cubs revel in the gentle showers sweeping across the grasslands.

Despite the drizzle, the cubs were bursting with energy, pouncing on each other, toppling over small fallen trunks and darting between bushes as if the rain only made their games more exciting. Every so often, they paused to glance at their mothers before diving right back into play.

The two females watched on calmly, allowing the little ones the freedom to explore and learn. Moments like these are so vital in a lion's development. Through play, they develop coordination, balance, and agility, and social bonding is established long before they attempt a real hunt. 

This week, we came across another one of the Taliban or Nyati males, the one with the distinct ginger mane, mating with a female from the Egyptian Pride. In recent weeks, it's become clear these males seem to have settled around the Pride, fully committed to protecting this part of their territory for now.  

What made this encounter particularly interesting was the tension and contrast in behaviour. The male was intensely focused, staying close to the female and ready to mount at any moment, while she showed clear irritation, growling, snarling and baring her teeth each time he came too near.

This kind of aggressive pushback often suggests that she may have recently mated with one or more of these males, and fatigue was starting to set in.

In the distance, another male from the same coalition was also mating. These synchronicities across multiple males in a coalition, within the same pride and within the same timeframe, are one of the strongest examples of just how coordinated and intentional lion coalitions can be. 

We came across these retired generals again this week, just below the escarpment, and one male immediately stood out as he lifted his head. His left eye appeared heavily damaged, wholly or at least partially blind, the result of last week’s brutal dominance fight, where his opponent’s horn drove straight into it.  

Old buffalo bulls wear their battles on their bodies, and this male now carries a stark reminder of how brutal these clashes can be. Their fights are not mere posturing but violent collisions of bone and force where a single misstep can be costly.

Despite his injury, he still moves with slow confidence, holding his place among the ageing bulls that linger below the escarpment, a refuge for those past their prime. Even in retirement, they stay close, feeding and resting together, knowing that safety in numbers still matters.— Jay Supeyo