Poaching: The untold story

2008-08-03 10:06:19
By Shaban Malekela


Ruaha and Lungwe parks are located in both heavy forests and savannah flat lands, with rivers and picturesque hills. It is in these highly populated game areas that we conduct business.

Hunting is more paying during rainy seasons for reasons I will elaborate later. Poaching during dry seasons is risky. Many game parks and reserves feature short savannah vegetation that allow easy detection.

Game warders can easily locate poachers from afar. Many of them trek long distances on their missions to track poachers, plan ambushes and net them.

Despite earlier arrangements by our boss to grease game officials, there were times of logistical conflicts that were sometimes a result of operational disagreements.

Ambushed
Patrols by warders were specifically directed to areas where we had no business but there were unexpected ambushes with the precision of professionals.

One sunny day in the bush, Mzee Ganisanyile Kidevu, a perfect sniper, sensed an impending danger. He quickly warned me in a whisper: ``Young man, there is no safety here today.`` Without farther ado I collected my bag fully packed with ammunitions and some money, fastened it to the belt, calling an immediate halt to the cooking and an order for all to melt.

It was sunset and as if in answer to my order for the poachers to scatter, a volley of bullets over an overpowering sound of gunfire ensued.

Escape
Our thorny and rocky cover was no longer safe! From where we were there was only one escape route which was covered by the heavily armed game warders.

This was my first time to be ambushed but, I miraculously summoned courage and jumped over the high rocks and through the thorns towards the direction of our assailants.

Sensing death, I moved with the speed of a cheetah, going headlong into the thorny bushes, my shirt completely removed and trapped back by the thorns.

I passed into safety, leaving the warders training their guns on the shirt.

The warders nailed 27 poachers out of 40 in that small camp. They also took our two 458 Rifles, seven pieces of ivory tusks, six 458 bullets and other items such as maize flour, meat and axes. The rest of us got away with two SAR Rifles.

Mzee Ganisanyile Kidevu joined a group of colleagues somewhere and trekked back home, but I was completely alone and without a shirt. I passed the first night safely because I had some \'magical\' portions to use against wild animals, always at the ready in the dangerous business.

Assistance
The ambush had taken place at the camp, some 185 kilometres away from Pawaga, Iringa Rural District, in the areas near Mzombe River, bordering Dodoma, Singida and Tabora regions.

I walked alone and without food for three more days, before reaching Ilangali Village where I met Bwana Mamboleo, a fellow poacher.

Here Mamboleo advised me to rest for two days, against my insistence that I had to leave.

Meals were cooked for me and I gave him money to buy me new clothes.

I understood quite well why Mamboleo, being a seasoned poacher, asked me to take a break. The place was 40 kilometres from Pawaga!

The only means to reach Pawaga safely for and under those conditions was to take into the bushes to avoid arrest.

After the two-day rest I proceeded with my journey setting out at 5am and reaching Pawaga slightly after 6pm where I met the group. I gave them money for return fare to their homes.

Rescue
I reported the failed \'mission\' to my brother and together we started to make plans to rescue the 27 poachers netted by the Government. We went to Singida where the police told us that our people were indeed in remand prison awaiting cases in court.

Theirs fell under economic sabotage and it was only the high court that was vested with authority to hear such cases. We set out for Dodoma to apply for bail for our colleagues at the high court. We filled in bail application forms.

After a month-long wait, we succeeded in obtaining bail for them under strict conditions from the court that they should not engage in poaching.

Whenever my brother lost any firearm its replacement would be done within the shortest time because in this country nothing is impossible with money.

Guts and discipline
Poaching needs a combination of determination, courage and discipline. There is no half spirit in this. You must be fully committed in the undertaking.

Some of the most ambitious persons we went with into the bushes and jungle simply broke down and cried openly.
Sometimes my brother gave me up to 50,000/- (in those old days that was really big money) to go to Ilangali in Dodoma Rural District to purchase the famous `ndondolwa` ivory.

Fishermen and honey collectors in areas around the game reserve had a penchant for collecting ivory tusks.

A wounded elephant could take two to three days before it died, far away from the area of hunting. It is at these places where these fishermen and honey collectors passed regularly and collected the tusks.

Prices
Ilangali village was a typical poacher�s home. Even women collected the ivory tusks left behind by the carcasses.

Ilangali borders the game area and when the women went to fetch water they came upon the treasure and took it back with them.

We bought a kilo of ivory at only 150/- in the 1980�s so you can imagine the kind of load we would eventually fetch with 50,000/-. I would stay for two weeks with my merchandise recruiting porters to carry it to Pawaga at a fee of 500/-.

I went to the purchase missions with my assistant called Bwana Chesisi. We would collect five to six tonnes and hide the tusks in water holes. The water did a trick to the weight of ivory. A kilo of tusks would be twice as heavy after those two weeks.

Government vehicles
The main task was then to weigh all ivory tusks before transporting them to Burundi.

We would keep vigil the all night counting and weighing before hiding them in lots in the farms. The second day we would send trucks in to load the cargo.

All those vehicles were owned by the Government or its related institutions, each carrying a green flag or the Union one.

We took the tusks to areas around Nyangolo Mountain along the Iringa-Dodoma main road where we would unload our cargo and cover it with green tarpaulin.

The vehicles would immediately go back to Iringa town upon unloading the cargo and I remained with only five honest young men whom I personally handpicked. They knew how to keep secrets. We would await for a bigger vehicle to carry the haul to Burundi.

Signals
In this dangerous and risky business there must be in place a kind of communication whose code is strictly shared by very few. At our disposal was a left-hand-drive six-cylinder Land Rover 108 series. It was specifically made for such work, keeping road patrol by constantly and speedily moving from Nyangolo and Izazi Villages.

In case of any danger the driver would press on the trumpet horns continuously, driving close by our place. Our patrol driver would do that upon seeing a police vehicle or one belonging to the Tanzania People`s Defence Forces on their regular beats on the road.

That would prompt me to tell my young assistant to be on standby for anything, while I put my packed Star pistol at the ready.

The pistol was legally owned by my brother. I would position myself at a lone location, ears and eyes on full alert.

Panic
One day a bus developed mechanical problems and had to stop near where we were. Ten Dodoma-bound soldiers from Iringa were aboard that fateful bus.

They disembarked and upon seeing our footprints leading to the bush they must have developed some interest.

They headed for our hut we normally used for cooking our meals. Suddenly I saw them coming straight to where we were.

My colleagues sprang to life and fled into the bushes, leaving me alone. I remained very cool and confident, despite the imminent danger.

One of the uniformed soldiers asked me why my colleagues were fleeing, to which I politely replied: ``Officers, you know how scared some local people in the rural areas get when they see you uniformed people.``

I told them that we were sawing timber around the hilly side of the place and at that particular time we were in the hut where we normally prepared our meals.

Relief
After those answers, and especially after satisfying themselves with my attitude and the presence of sardines and maize flour, they believed me. All along I was ready for anything. The soldiers asked for drinking water and took a rest right there!

Our cargo was intact and I continued building the fire for cooking the sardines. When the bus driver hooted, the soldiers stood up and left, leaving the tarpaulin-covered load.

My colleagues had meanwhile gone straight to Izazi Village to break the news that I was under arrest from the soldiers.

Our patrol driver took the young men on board the Land Rover intending to meet my brother to tell him what had transpired, but as luck would have it, they met him on the way in an 18-ton Scania truck that was to carry our merchandise to Burundi.

My brother was worried by the news, but immensely relieved when he learned that I had outwitted the soldiers and that the cargo was there for onward transportation.

He praised me for saving the business by not panicking when facing the soldiers.

SOURCE: Sunday Observer

Thanks Kathi, good read.

Hi: This guy says he has money so why does't he just buy a licence and go hunting.If they are over harvesting and endangering the species for money i cheer on the soldiers and game wardens