Don’t be anyone’s baboon

By Dominc Odipo

When you sit by any of the larger watering holes in any of our major national parks long enough, you will observe many fascinating things about the lives of the various denizens of the more pristine parts of the country.

You will see zebra herds hovering and hollering around the water hole all day, but seemingly threatening no one.

You will notice the impala approaching the water with tentative, hesitant steps, with all ears up and all noses tuned to the wind, just in case there might be an enemy out there.

You will see vast herds of buffalo marching in great order, with a big bull in front and an even bigger one bringing up the rear. You will notice that the lesser or smaller animals often discreetly disappear until the great herd has had its fill and left.

You will see Loxodonto africana, the great African elephant, arrive in herds of tens or even hundreds of individuals at a time, to have its turn at the waterhole. These big, grey cousins of the extinct mammoth do not appear to worry too much about what else might be going on around them. They don’t seem to be afraid of anything around here, not even the crocodiles that may be lurking underwater.

This, they seem to be saying, is home, sweet home.

As you keep watching through the day and late into the night, you will notice one or two more general facts about the wilderness and the waterhole. You will be struck by what appears to be a highly organised operation.

The animals do not fight over the water in the hole. Everybody gets a chance at the hole and everybody drinks to their fill. It is all as if somebody, somewhere is calling the shots and coordinating the whole operation. The elephants do not arrive until the buffalos have left.

Fighting

You will also notice something very odd, given the way we humans behave. The buffalos or elephants do not organise themselves into groups or gangs of 50 or 100 and then begin fighting each other.

You will see a skirmish once in a while between one buffalo and another, but no outright battle or war between bufalloes or between buffaloes and any other species. (The eight-minute ‘Battle at Kruger’ incident involving a herd of buffalo, a pride of lions and a crocodile excepted - Ed)

These animals appear far too intelligent to embark on a brutal internecine war within the species that could lead to the death or destruction of their own.

For the animal kingdom, there appear never to have been a First, Second or any World War. There appear never to have been any War of the Roses or any Thirty Years War. This observation baffles and confuses the mind.

How does it happen that we, supposedly the most intelligent of all the creatures, are the only ones who periodically embark on a deliberate and concerted effort to destroy each other?

We have not only engendered brutal, ruinous wars at the drop of a hat, we have a long history of genocide, ethnic cleansing and mass murder.

But there are more things you notice at the waterhole. You notice the lone leopard moving in stealthily against the wind at dusk, just when the waterbuck are arriving for their daily fill. You notice the deathly fear and uncertainty that suddenly descends on the grounds as the presence of the leopard is internalised.

But perhaps there is no animal that the leopard scares more than the baboon. Leopards hunt baboons at night and do not depend upon surprise to make kills. Those who have stayed by these waterholes longer say that, upon sight of the leopard, the baboon is struck by mortal fear and begins acting very strangely, if not necessarily irrationally.

If it happens to be up in the trees with its younger ones, the baboon will promptly toss one of its babies to the leopard on the ground in what appears to be a supreme act of appeasement. The baboon appears to be telling the leopard: "Eat my baby, please, but spare me."

Sometimes the leopard obliges and settles on the baby. But at other times, it doesn’t. When it then threatens to climb the tree, the baboons above promptly climb down and lie before it.

Baboon

The leopard then chooses the fattest one and embarks on its meal. The others, immobilised by fear, do absolutely nothing in defence of their colleague or in self-defence.

Is there a lesson for us in this tale from the wild?

Indeed, there is. In every society, there are leopards and baboons. There are men who will do anything another man or woman tells them to do. This is a great pity. It is your duty to make sure you are not a baboon. Don’t ever be anyone’s baboon!

The writer is a lecturer and consultant in Nairobi.

dominicOdipo@yahoo.co.uk