This Week at Angama #433

This week, before the first safari vehicles set out, the horizon slowly came alive with a golden glow stretching across the plains. Above, a blanket of textured clouds covered the sky, creating a dramatic canvas of deep blues, soft greys, and brilliant golds.

At Maji Machafu, the Purungat Pride enjoyed the rewards of a successful buffalo hunt made during the evening. The massive carcass lay hidden among the green grass, providing a feast for the pride after hours of teamwork and effort.

Drawn by the scent of blood, a young nomadic male lion appeared on the scene. Like many wandering males searching for opportunities, he decided to take advantage of a meal he had not helped secure. Confident and hungry, he settled beside a lioness and began feeding on the buffalo, seemingly unaware of the danger that was approaching.

Not everyone in the pride was willing to tolerate the intruder. One of the Purungat lionesses spotted the young male and immediately left the feeding site. She made her way back to alert the pride's dominant protector, the formidable Inselberg male.

The response was swift. Moving silently through the tall grass, the dominant male approached. Hidden by the vegetation, he closed the distance without revealing his presence. The unsuspecting nomad continued feeding, unaware that the rightful owner of the territory was only moments away.

Everything exploded into chaos. The Inselberg male launched a powerful attack. Water splashed, lions roared, and the confrontation turned fierce. Though brief, the encounter was intense, with the dominant male making it clear that trespassers were not welcome at his pride's table. Realising he was hopelessly outmatched, the young nomadic lion fled. He escaped with a few painful reminders of the encounter, but he survived. If he had chosen to stand his ground, the outcome could have been far worse. As calm returned to the kill site, the Purungat Pride resumed feeding, their territory and hard-earned meal once again secure.

While in Mulima Mbili, the famous Siligi Boys were found enjoying a fresh wildebeest meal. Under the warm Mara sun, the brothers appeared relaxed and content, a sign that life in the Triangle is currently treating them well.

Unlike lions, cheetahs often have little time to enjoy their kills before scavengers arrive, but on this occasion, the brothers seemed unbothered. They fed peacefully, occasionally lifting their heads to scan the surroundings before returning to the feast.

The abundance of prey in the Triangle has provided favourable conditions for these magnificent cats, and the brothers appear to be making the most of it. Moments like these highlight why the Mara remains one of the best places in the world to witness predator-prey interactions in their natural setting. Their success is a testament to the power of brotherhood and cooperation in one of Africa's most competitive landscapes.

On the other side of the Triangle, the leopard that had made headlines last week with its warthog kill was spending the day in a very different mood. Perched high in a tree's branches, it appeared completely at ease, stretched comfortably across a sturdy limb as it enjoyed the cool shade of the afternoon sun. There was no sign of urgency, no need to hunt, and no concern about what was happening on the ground below. With a full belly and plenty of energy conserved, the spotted cat embodied the patience that makes leopards such successful predators.

As we made our way toward Mugoro, we came across a remarkable secretary bird standing tall in the grass. It was completely focused on an unusual lunch: a large puff adder.

Secretary birds are famous for hunting on foot, using their long legs as deadly weapons. Although they feed on a variety of prey, including insects, rodents, lizards, and small mammals, snakes make up only about 15% of their diet.

The puff adder is one of Africa's most venomous and well-camouflaged snakes. With powerful venom and a lightning-fast strike, it is a formidable opponent for any predator. Yet the secretary bird relied on its long legs and powerful kicks, carefully keeping its distance while striking repeatedly until it secured the rare and dangerous meal.

After a short drive, we came across a group of southern ground hornbills walking along the roadside. These striking birds always capture attention with their large size, long eyelashes, and deep booming calls. As we watched them, the different colour of their neck pouches stood out.

Most of the birds had the familiar bright red throat skin for which southern ground hornbills are known. However, the juveniles have a pale white throat patch.

What makes southern ground hornbills even more fascinating is their strong family structure. Unlike many bird species, they live in cooperative family groups where adults work together to raise the young. Older siblings and other group members assist in feeding, protecting, and teaching the juvenile important survival skills. The young hornbill learns where to find food, how to avoid danger, and eventually how to survive on its own. Watching this family was a beautiful reminder that in nature, success often depends on cooperation.

We closed the week near Oloolo Escarpment, where we witnessed one of nature's harsher realities unfold before our eyes. A baboon had captured a young impala, drawing the attention of both its troop members and nearby wildlife.

While many people think of baboons as mainly feeding on fruits, seeds, roots, and insects, they are highly opportunistic animals. During the impala lambing season, when vulnerable young are abundant, baboons sometimes hunt and kill small antelope. In recent months, such sightings have become increasingly common in the Mara, particularly in areas where large troops are present and young impalas are plentiful.

The young impala never had much of a chance. The baboon's speed, strength, and sharp canine teeth make it a surprisingly effective predator when opportunity presents itself. Although difficult to watch, these moments are part of the complex balance of life on the savannah. — Arnold Omondi

Nature is full of remarkable survival strategies, and few are as fascinating as brood parasitism. One of the most intriguing examples involves the great spotted cuckoo and the highly social superb starling. Rather than building its own nest and raising its young, the great spotted cuckoo relies on deception.

A female cuckoo secretly lays her egg in the nest of unsuspecting superb starlings, often while the hosts are temporarily away. The starling parents then incubate the cuckoo egg alongside their own, unaware that they have become foster parents to an imposter. Once hatched, the young cuckoo is often larger and more demanding than the starling chicks sharing the nest.

The hardworking starling parents tirelessly gather food and feed the cuckoo as if it were their own offspring. In some cases, the cuckoo chick may even outcompete the starling chicks for food, growing rapidly under the care of its adoptive family.

For the cuckoo, this strategy is highly effective, allowing it to invest more energy in producing offspring rather than building nests or caring for young. For the superb starling, however, it comes at a cost, as precious time and resources are diverted to raising a chick that carries none of their genes.

Raising cubs in the wild requires intelligence, experience, and strategy. Memusi, a lioness raising three growing cubs, has mastered a clever tactic to outwit the dominant males of the Sanctuary and ensure her family receives a fair share of every hard-earned meal. Recently, she successfully brought down an eland, providing a substantial source of food for her hungry cubs.

Just a few days later, she demonstrated her hunting prowess once again by catching a warthog. Yet securing a kill is only half the battle. In lion society, pride males often take priority at a carcass regardless of who made the kill, frequently leaving females and cubs to feed only after the males have satisfied themselves.

Understanding this reality, Memusi employs a cunning strategy. Rather than remaining conspicuously at the kill site, she quietly leads her cubs away to feed in relative peace before the dominant males discover their prize. By doing so, she maximises the nutritional benefit for her cubs while minimising the risk of confrontation with lions far larger and stronger than herself.

Her vigilance extends beyond the pride itself. On one occasion, she was seen aggressively chasing away crows that ventured too close to the carcass. Memusi seemed to understand that scavengers can act as unwitting informants, their presence and behaviour attracting other scavengers, and potentially the very males she was trying to avoid. Every decision she makes reflects the delicate balance between risk and reward in the wild.

The breeding season of the common warthog is in effect, and male warthogs roam widely in search of receptive females, often engaging in pushing contests and displays of strength to establish dominance. Unlike many other species, these encounters are usually less violent and are more about endurance than outright aggression.

Mating is relatively brief, typically lasting only a few minutes, but the courtship and mating process can extend over several hours or even days. After a gestation period averaging around 170–175 days, the female will give birth to a litter of two to four piglets in the safety of a burrow.

Albinism is a rare genetic condition that occurs when an animal inherits genes that prevent the production of melanin, the pigment responsible for the colour of skin, fur, feathers, scales, and eyes.

This albino yellow baboon in Amboseli National Park, unlike its troop members, whose coats range from yellow-brown to olive, lacks the pigment melanin, resulting in a pale or white appearance and often pinkish skin or reddish eyes due to the visibility of blood vessels behind the iris. Despite its instant recognition, albinism presents some challenges, such as reduced protection from the sun and affected eyesight.

Big boy Pascal, now 46 years old, is beginning to show the subtle signs of aging that come with life as one of Amboseli's great bulls.

While he remains an impressive presence on the landscape, time is gradually leaving its mark on this magnificent elephant. For male African bush elephants, aging often becomes noticeable through changes in both appearance and behaviour.

Older bulls like Pascal tend to develop a more pronounced forehead and sunken temples as muscle mass decreases with age. Their skin becomes more wrinkled and weathered, ears may show the wear and tear of decades spent moving through thorny bush, and their once-powerful bodies can appear leaner as they begin to lose condition. As they get older, they also move with a slower, more deliberate gait, conserving energy and avoiding unnecessary exertion. 

Cheetahs were a highlight this week in Amboseli National Park. As the dry season begins to take hold, water sources become increasingly scarce, drawing large concentrations of prey animals to the remaining wetlands and permanent water points.

Where prey gathers, predators are never far behind, making this one of the most rewarding times of year for wildlife viewing across the Greater Amboseli ecosystem, stretching from Amboseli National Park through Kimana Sanctuary and beyond.

A female cheetah accompanied by her two growing cubs moved gracefully across the open plains, the cubs staying close to their mother as they learned the skills necessary for survival in a challenging landscape.

We were also fortunate to encounter another solitary female cheetah, roaming the plains during the heat of the day. —Robert Sayialel