Amid the rhino crisis, the Kruger fights to lure the crowds

HELEN ZILLE once tweeted, before she switched off her phone, that the fruits of colonialism were not only negative, and then listed the independent judiciary, transport infrastructure and piped water.

By the time she switched her phone back on, all hell had broken loose. It was vintage Twitter-Zille: Provocative and moreover wrong. None of the examples she mentioned were invented by British colonialists, and furthermore she misread the spirit of the times and the emotions of her compatriots.

One thing established by colonialism in South Africa that I wouldn't want to see disappear, though, is the Kruger National Park (KNP). Okay, one could argue at length about whether the Transvaal Boers and Paul Kruger, who proclaimed the initial conservation areas, were part of colonialism, but there's no doubt that the Boers were swept forward by a great Western expansion of trade and exploitation, and the most important dynamo of this was British imperialism.

Call it a bastard child of colonialism, a well-intentioned orphan of white domination. The last local tribe in the wildlife park, the Makuleke, was evicted from the northern area in 1969. Kruger and others wanted to prevent the Boers on the frontier from wiping out the last wildlife in the lowveld, and this was seen in white circles as a noble deed.

But the clearing of the area of people who had lived there for decades was just as violent and disruptive as any of the other great forced relocations of people in South Africa over the last 200 years. Nevertheless, I love the Kruger National Park. It's a love that was forged before I had any idea that greedy, combative adults had messed up the world.

I love the various camps, Pafuri's nyalas and mysterious forests, Shingwedzi's unspoiled wilderness and leopards, Letaba's shade and river course and herds of elephants, Tzendse's bush camp in a magical forest full of owls, Satara's vast plains teeming with antelope and lions and elephant bulls like sailing ships on the horizon, the upper Nwanedzi road where you can see lions, leopards, cheetahs, jackals, hyenas and an aardvark in one morning, and then bacon and eggs at the picnic spot, close by the Mozambique border.

I love a buffalo pie at Tshokwane's shop, getting out on the bridges over the broad river courses flowing eastward to the Indian Ocean, where one can search for hours for marabou storks, giant herons, fish eagles, kingfishers, spoonbills, hammerkop's, spoonbills and saddle-billed storks. And maybe a leopard.

I even love the south. The Nkuhlu and Timbavati picnic spots, Berg-en-Dal's hilly paths where a rhino is always a possibility. I love Skukuza's Lake Panic bird hide, where a heron once swallowed a tilapia as big as its own body.

Although the new elite has apparently accepted South Africa's national parks as assets and land claims have had minimal impact, and although the percentage of black visitors to our National Parks has reasonably grown (38% of guests), most are still day visitors in buses and only a meagre 14% overnight in the camps. During my time as a travel journalist I had reasonable contact with senior SANParks officials and the feeling one got around 2010 was that it was one of the performers among government departments, properly transformed and relatively corruption-free, and that conservation was a true government priority.

The Kruger has long been an international conservation icon. It's the most affordable and accessible destination in the world to experience Africa's savanna wildlife. It's ridiculously cheap compared to Serengeti, Savuti, or Arusha, and you can drive there yourself in an ordinary car. Even though it has a complex history, it would damage my soul if the wildlife park were to fail.

The damning report

Exactly two years ago, a report came out – “Landscape of Fear" – by the researcher and journalist, Julian Rademeyer, under the banner of the Global Initiative Against Transnational Organised Crime. Newspaper headlines about the report were so negative that I initially avoided it.

Rademeyer found that about 40% of law enforcement officers in the KNP were corrupt, that up to 70% of the staff provided information to poaching gangs, and that the large organised crime networks in Mpumalanga, together with terrible socioeconomic conditions on the western border of the park, were casting a long shadow of crime over the reserve.

Prof Jane Carruthers, a social and political expert on this part of the world, is quoted in the report: “For many black South Africans living in extreme poverty in areas adjoining the park, Kruger's aesthetic beauty has little relevance. For them, the park's name and ethos have come to symbolise strands in the web of racial discrimination and white political and economic domination."

Rademeyer also points to the murder of Hawks detective Lt-Col Leroy Bruwer in 2020, and Timbavati's chief ranger, Anton Mzimba, in 2022, as proof of how rhino poaching for horn still dominates the landscape.

The statistics on the collapse of rhino numbers under the pressure of poaching show it's a crisis. Between 2011 and 2020, the reserve's white rhino numbers fell from 10,621 animals to 2,607 (nowadays it's under 2,000) – an extinction of 75%.

A quick visit

During the same period, my family and I visited the game park briefly at the end of a holiday in the lowveld – Skukuza and Biyamiti, a lovely semi-private camp with only 15 chalets in a forest of jackalberry and wild fig trees. I  had to see for myself, because SANParks was badly hit by Covid-19, and the country was depressed about the extent of state capture and Zuma's criminal networks as exposed by the Zondo commission.

One cannot draw major conclusions about corruption and mismanagement through superficial personal observations, but I cannot deny that I was dejected about the condition of the core of Skukuza, the jewel of the KNP. The grass had grown through tarred roads everywhere, the main complex's thatched roofs were in a dire state, the main viewing deck in front of the restaurant was cordoned off with red and white barrier tape because it was apparently about to collapse, a troop of wild blue monkeys was aggressively terrorising restaurant patrons and the service in the restaurant was terrible.

It no longer felt like the attractive courtyard of a proud reserve but like a neglected provincial resort.

I grew up in an era when the park was a model of excellent facilities – when all the copper taps were polished, the thatched roofs perfect, where you could fetch boiling water and coal in the large old black kettles, where the grounds were always neatly raked. But I also know this is an idyll that won't return because the organisation is now so much larger and because many of the practices weren't good ecological management.

The condition of the Biyamiti chalet we stayed in was close to dilapidated. Mosquito screens on the windows were torn, the bathroom was in a terrible state (a piece of the toilet's porcelain had split off), the ceilings sagged in places and had black mould. The kitchen equipment was lacking, and the veranda's plastic furniture was broken. I pondered whether I should ever return to the game park.

What the big fans say

I made a point of talking to as many people as possible who visit the game park frequently and observe long-term trends. Most of these people are more conservative than I am and more sceptical about the state's ability to govern well. Each told me the game park had struggled after Covid-19, and they believed I happened to visit two areas that were likely to be renovated soon.

Villiers Steyn has been involved with conservation and nature all his life. He has a master's degree in conservation from the Tshwane University of Technology, was involved in producing various printed guides about the game park, is a well-known wildlife photographer and his YouTube channel, The Safari Expert, is extremely popular. He lives in a nature estate in Hoedspruit and regularly traverses the KNP.

“People get super emotional about the park. Online, people are either extremely negative or very positive. However, I don't get the feeling it's more negative now than 25 years ago. There were always people who said it was going to ruin, and there were people who said it was wonderful. I'm someone who tends to notice the good things and I understand the challenges the staff face, and my personal experience of the game park in the last five years, after Covid, has been super positive.

“Take the check-in process. The guy standing outside at the gate greets you in a friendly manner, and he's ready with his little form and tells you about the lions that were seen earlier that morning at a certain spot. That's how I expect to be welcomed in the game park.

“The guys at reception early in the mornings, it's dark and everyone is fighting with the staff and is grumpy, but the staff do their job quickly and with a smile. And in the camps themselves, at Satara you'll see they've built a beautiful deck there, enlarged the restaurant. You see a dip in a specific camp where it deteriorates, and then someone comes in and makes it better than before.

“I think it has a lot to do with the management in each camp. If you have a good camp manager, then it definitely flows through."

Adilia Briers, a farmer and housewife in her late fifties from the Grootvlei district in Mpumalanga, grew up in the game park and has been going there at least three times a year ever since. She agrees that the camp managers have a big influence: “There are positives and negatives. We mostly camp and the positive is they have improved the camping spots a bit. There aren't as many steep slopes and uneven areas anymore.

“The maintenance goes up and down. At times you come to places and think, ugh, look at the state of this place. I think it absolutely has to do with which camp manager is appointed at that time in each camp. As far as service is concerned, I really can't complain. The people are nice to me."

Villiers toured the entire game park in 2024. “In September, we came in through the Pafuri gate from Gonarezhou. Pafuri's reception was excellent. We didn't have a booking for that day, but for a day later, a camping spot at Letaba, and we urgently sought a chalet in exchange for the camping spot. The woman immediately said, no problem. A minute later she gave me the machine to pay the difference.

“All the complaints about service and maintenance. You see it here and there, but I always think how difficult it must be to do quality control over the entire game park. Be realistic that you won't get the same service everywhere.

“Also, the Kruger National Park's biggest priority now is probably anti-poaching operations, not even tourism. There are so many priorities for the budgets, and then floods come that destroy half the roads in the park, and [only] after two months you can drive those roads again.

“Last year I toured from Shingwedzi to Berg-en-Dal in 12 days to get a feel for the park again, and the only aspect that I walked away with that was very bad was how the visitors behaved themselves. You go into a little shop and can buy anything. The camping sites are clean, I just got good vibes. The frustration is that I became aware of a higher number of people visiting the park. Open safari vehicles, self-drivers with their stress, people making noise in the camp and playing music ...

“South Africans forget to compare it with parks in other countries and the value for money in the Kruger National Park. We were now in Savuti. It costs you R1 000 per person per night and we didn't have hot water, it was actually half chaotic, but you're willing to pay that for the exclusivity."

The risk of meeting a poacher

Regarding visitors' safety in the game park, there have been very few incidents, because a poacher's first priority is NOT to be detected. Nevertheless, Briers' youngest son and his family experienced a shocking incident: “In December, DW and his family had a very bad experience. They went on a night drive near Berg-en-Dal on New Year's Eve, and I think the poachers thought the night drives wouldn't run until midnight, but it was naturally a special drive on New Year's Eve.

“And then they came upon the poachers where they had just shot the rhino cow, and the small rhino calf ran after the game-viewing vehicle crying. The staff handled it very well. They had to sit there until the rangers and anti-poaching units arrived. It wasn't pleasant for them, but it's not the game park's fault.

“When they inquired the next day about the calf, the guys immediately answered all their questions and said they had airlifted it that same night and taken it to the conservation enclosures."

Dina Labuschagne, a retired language teacher, visits the game park at least three times a year. She believes that during the transition period, in the late 1990s and early 2000s, there was a noticeable decline in maintenance and service in the game park, and she specifically mentions Satara and Berg-en-Dal.

But she experienced a very clear turnaround in the first decade of the century, and since then she has been very impressed with the maintenance and service: “I could absolutely see the change. I remember once we camped at Pretoriuskop, during the soccer World Cup, that manager of that camp, I have never seen anything like it in my life. Every single thing in its place, the sprinklers working, the lawns cut, the rondavels – not a screw or curtain out of place. Over time, Berg-en-Dal have picked up and Satara is now super-grand again and Shingwedzi and Olifants Camp too, things are going well there. In general, the administration and service are also excellent.

“Something that bothers me a bit is the maintenance of the roads, but, well, I'm not going to say it's management's fault, because the rain in this place regularly destroys the roads. It's a struggle."

The one complaint that all three have is that the game park gets inundated with visitors in the peak season.

What the game park says

I very much wanted to speak with the chief ranger of the KNP, Kathy Dreyer, about the state of conservation and the change in the security situation, but she was too busy. I was able to speak with the KNP's spokesperson, Isaac Phaahla.

Since Rademeyer's report in 2022, the poaching of white rhinos has slightly decreased. In the year 2021/22, a whopping 195 rhinos were poached, but in 2022/23, this sharply decreased to 98. However, there are now fewer than 2 000 white rhinos left in the park.

A surprise is that elephant poaching has shot up for the first time in years after 32 elephants were poached. I asked Phaahla what was behind this.

“We have strong reason to believe there is an illegal bushmeat trade outside the reserve, close to communities. It is being investigated by the police. For most carcasses, the elephants' tusks were left behind. There is an element of organisation around these incidents."

How was the relationship between the reserve's management and staff affected by Rademeyer's report?

“We saw Julian's report, and he used his own methods. One of the things he mentioned is that there is massive corruption. We don't know how he came to that conclusion. However, we took note and a part of it and the sentiment was true. We live in a climate of fear in the province and poaching is not isolated but part of the crime taking place in the province.

“However, we think that the percentage he emphasised of about 40% of game wardens and service personnel involved in corruption is far above what we know on the ground. We don't hide that there are people in our ranks who work with syndicates, and you will realise from the records that we have not tolerated any corruption. Nearly 40 people are currently on trial or in prison."

The battle is still on

“We got the South African Human Rights Commission involved to provide guidance and worked with unions to develop an integrity management system, better known as polygraph testing. After we developed our guidelines and standard operational procedures around it, it was finally signed off between the unions and management.

“It is now part of our recruitment methods. The management of the KNP was the first to do the polygraph tests. If any deviations are noticed, we hand the case over to the police for further investigation. In South African courts, polygraph tests are not considered sufficient evidence.

“Are we winning this fight? It remains to be proven. We still have reason to believe some of our colleagues are undermining the system and working with criminals. We have also brought in canine units to help with the fight against poachers and we are using more technology. We know there is still a lot of work to be done."

Phaahla says that snares and traps set by subsistence poachers on the eastern border with Mozambique has become an increasingly bigger problem in the past few years. The problem with a snare is that it kills indiscriminately – even buffaloes die in snares. It is a socioeconomic problem that is very difficult for SANParks to solve but does not pose a substantial threat to wildlife numbers across the reserve.

What have I learned from this? Is the Kruger National Park on a downward path? As far as visitors are concerned, and we're referring here to people who tend to be very critical, there is no problem with the operation of the game park. In fact, they are quite positive. Regarding conservation and the fight against crime, we're on a knife's edge, but it concerns only a few species. It is like the rest of South Africa. Although we live with organised crime around us, we live functionally and relatively safely. It is not ideal.

♦ VWB ♦

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