This Week at Angama #414

This week Motonyi and her cubs reminded us that motherhood in the wild is as much about patience as it is about survival. 

The female cheetah has been facing a real challenge when it comes to hunting. Her cubs, full of curiosity and energy, are yet to understand the art of staying hidden. Instead of giving her the space she needs to stalk, they often run around her, block her movements, and inadvertently reveal her position to potential prey. For a hunter that relies entirely on stealth to maximise speed, this becomes a major disadvantage as many chases end before they even begin. 

Yet, in true cheetah fashion, Motonyi is adapting. We’ve begun to see her slowly refine her approach, learning how to hunt despite the constant distraction. More importantly, she’s starting to teach, showing the cubs when to stay put, when to be still, and when not to be seen. These early lessons are crucial, not just for successful hunts, but for the cubs’ safety. A hunting ground can quickly turn dangerous, and knowing when to remain hidden could one day save their lives. 

This week, we watched two lappet-faced vultures stationed on the ground together, momentarily left to themselves after tearing open an impala carcass. Their work done, they stepped aside and allowed the rest of the scavenger guild to move in.

These vultures, unmistakable in their size and authority, had claimed first rights, their strength allowing them to open up the carcass with ease. Only once they had fed and moved on did the white-backed & Rüppell's griffon vultures descend in numbers, digging deep into the remains and continuing the feast.

An African harrier-hawk provided a captivating spectacle as it made a flock of Fischer’s lovebirds visibly uneasy while they foraged around their nesting site. Known for their remarkable feeding habits, harrier-hawks often prey on other birds’ eggs and nestlings, and it appeared this individual was intent on investigating a nest concealed within the trunk of the tree. 

The contrast between predator and prey was striking. The lovebirds would burst into flight, scattering briefly, only to return moments later to perch nervously on the same tree, reluctant to abandon their nest. Meanwhile, the harrier-hawk hung effortlessly against the trunk, using its uniquely flexible legs to probe deep into the cavity, methodically searching for eggs or hatchlings hidden from view. 

We were fortunate to spot a small group of white storks in the northern reaches of the Sanctuary this week, and we believe they may have just begun their long migratory journey from Europe. These remarkable birds travel south during the northern autumn, using East Africa as part of their migratory corridor and wintering grounds. Seeing them here is a reminder of how interconnected these landscapes are on a global scale.  

The storks’ bright white plumage stood in striking contrast against the dark volcanic ground, scattered with ancient rocks. In the background, a few elephants moved almost invisibly through the terrain, their grey forms blending so seamlessly into the landscape, while the storks remained luminous, dressed in their white and black.

On an early morning safari, our attention was caught by something pale in the long grass, a flash of white that almost looked like a skull. Curious, we stopped and lifted our binoculars, only to be met with a surprise that took our breath away. It wasn’t a skull at all, but the immense tusks of Connor, one of the Sanctuary’s iconic super-tuskers, lying completely flat as he took a peaceful nap. 

To see such a massive elephant fully lying down is rare, as they prefer to sleep standing, supporting themselves on their tusks or tree trunks. For an animal of his size and status to rest so openly speaks volumes about how safe he feels in that space.  

Connor has always favoured the north-eastern and north-western corners of the Sanctuary, areas he knows well and trusts, and he is rarely seen venturing into the surrounding farms. For him to choose that quiet corner, alone, and surrender to deep rest was a powerful sign of peace.

While strolling along the banks of the Kimana River, we were treated to one of the Sanctuary’s rarer residents, the giant kingfisher. Perched above the flowing stream, it watched the water intently, poised and patient as it searched for its next meal. The variety of ecosystems here, rivers, wetlands, open woodland, and grassland, provides ideal conditions for all kingfishers.

Birds have an endlessly fascinating way of appearing when you least expect them. I was fortunate to add two new lifers to my bird list, the African red-chested cuckoo and the African pied cuckoo.  

The African pied cuckoo revealed itself just outside the Photographic Studio window, while I spotted the African red-chested cuckoo along the Kimana stream, calling from the cover of the riverine vegetation. —Japheth Supeyo

The Border Pride owns the morning in the Triangle, as the mist thins, they ease out of the bush, one body at a time, shapes appearing and fading in the cool haze, guiding them into the open field where air moves freely and the light seeps in. It is the gentle hour, the Pride settles together in the open, adults alert but unhurried, their posture relaxed yet watchful. The younger ones stay close, learning the rules of safety and stillness simply by being there.

The growth of the Border Pride is unmistakable: more bodies sharing space, more confidence in how they rest, a wider circle of belonging. Soon the mist will lift completely, warmth will gather, and shade will matter again.  

The morning had stretched on with no guarantees. Tracks faded into hard ground, trees stood still with no breeze, and every scan of the branches ended in nothing. This is the reality of the wild: no schedules, no promises, only patience. Then what first looked like a cluster of leaves and branches slowly revealed itself. Guide Sammy and his guest spotted a leopard in a thorny tree, almost perfectly blended into the foliage. Its spotted coat broke into light and shadow, making it nearly invisible unless you knew exactly where to look. This is how these cats survive, by becoming part of the tree itself.  

The leopard remained calm and unbothered, watching the world below. From that elevated position, it had safety, shade, and a clear view of its territory. Sightings like this are never accidental. They come from time spent searching, from understanding animal behaviour, and from Guides like Sammy who know when to stop, when to wait, and when to look again. After a long search, the reward wasn’t just a leopard in a tree; it was the lesson that patience always has a way of revealing what’s hidden.

It wasn't long until Guide Sammy picked up movement in the grass ahead. Emerging from the open plains was a lioness from the Egyptian Pride. She crouched low and deliberate, her body language focused and alert. Close behind her, small shapes of her cubs appeared, struggling to keep up with her pace. The youngsters followed instinctively, stumbling, playful, occasionally distracted, but always drawn forward by their mother’s presence.

Returning to the lodge after a good day in the Triangle, one of the guests spotted a group of yellow-billed storks. They stood shoulder to shoulder in the shallows, heads dipping and rising in near-perfect unison. Bills disappeared into the water, feet shuffled softly through the mud, and small ripples spread outward. Nearby, the presence of other birds suggested that this water source was active and abundant with life.  

As midday heat had fully settled over the plains. The sun stood high, flattening shadows and drawing warmth from the earth until dust rose with every step. It was the kind of heat that dictates behaviour, and the elephant herd responded as it always has by returning to water.

Young and adults moved together after drinking from the stream, in a tightly knit formation. Calves stayed close, shielded by larger bodies, while the adults took the outer positions, ears spread wide to release heat and remain alert. Trunks hung low, movements unhurried, energy carefully conserved. As midday heat fully settles over the plains, herds will spend most of the day near water sources and shade.

Movement is deliberate, not driven by urgency but by awareness, knowing when to walk, when to stop, when to rest. In the harsh midday heat, survival is collective. No individual moves alone; strength lies in togetherness, in shared pace and shared protection.  — Arnold Omondi