Lions at Chisamba

From Great North Road

Does anyone else recall the year, or so, when there was a lion problem in the farmlands of Chisamba?

A flood of the Luangwa had caused a lot of the animals in that valley to move ahead of the water onto the farmland, and when they went back a group of lions decided to stay, as farm animals were much easier to hunt than wild.

We had a heifer taken from the home camp at our farm, on the same night that I had been sent, with my little billy lamp, up to the dairy to get milk. On the way home I had become scared, and held the lamp up really high to try and see what was making a strange noise, but seeing nothing proceeded home.

When I told my family, (older brothers) they mocked me for being a scaredy cat, until early the next morning when we were wakened by frantic banging on the door, the headman, coming to report that a lion had walked through the compound. As daylight came it revealed that a pair had indeed walked through the compound, they had also walked alongside the path that I had travelled to pick up the milk, and had killed Spook. Spook was a favourite of ours, an almost pure white heifer with black circles on her eyes.

Contributed by Marion Murphy.

November 2001

I had an adopted 'Uncle' Bill Culverwell, who I used to visit on his Sunny Ridge Ranch at Chisamba during school holidays circa 1956 or '57, when I was in mid-teens.

His farm was on both sides of the main Lusaka to Kabwe road a few miles south of Landless corner. On the west side he had an enormous mealie land about 1.5km long by 1km wide. It had been plowed and early one morning we were preparing to start planting mealies, when we spotted 2 lions strolling across the land about 200 yards away. Bill quickly jumped into his car and sped off to get some guns leaving me with the terrified workers and a tractor and trailer loaded with fertilizer and mealie seed.

There were no tall trees in the vicinity so when the lions stopped to look at us we all quickly climbed onto the top of the fertilizer bags and tried to look as unappetizing as possible. The lions could have easily jumped onto the trailer and grabbed us. Luckily they could not have been feeling hungry as they carried on walking until they entered a lantana jungle at the side of the land just as Bill returned with the guns.

He told me that a number of cattle had been killed by Lions in the area, and a game guard who was sent to deal with them had been injured (or killed?). We did not follow the lions into the dark tunnels in the lantana jungle but drove to the far side to wait for them to come out. However the lions were too clever and we never saw them again. I heard that they were finally killed with poison bait.

I was at school with Hermanus (Tokkie) and Gerhardus (Bosman) Swart whose father farmed at Chisamba.

I also met a chap called Jazz Clacey circa 1970 who used to send truckloads of green mealies from his Chisamba farm to me for wholesaling on the Copperbelt markets.

Contributed by Doug Grewar.

November 2001

"Uncle" Jazz and his family were great friends of ours. It is possible that one of those trucks of green mielies he sent to you was driven by my father. Our Leyland was often pressed into service by Uncle Jazz when Dad had time. It was a red Leyland, and that same truck did the Hell Run.

We had one of those community Christmas Parties once, those who decided that the party was not over yet, were invited to Uncle Jazz's after the community one was over. Well, myself and my brothers jumped into a little yellow Morris with Uncle Jazz driving, I was sitting on his lap steering, and we all sang "we all live in a yellow submarine" on the tops of our voices as we drove along a "short cut" fire break between the Ksaka Saka, via the mielie lands, on the way to the house.

Well Uncle Jazz tapped the time of the song on the accelerator as we drove so we were jerking along the already bumpy road, when the Morris decided it had had quite enough mistreatment and stalled, never to start again.

We were about five miles from the house, and headed out, walking along, cheerfully pressing through the dark, on this narrow fire break, through the Ksaka saka. Anyway, to cut a long story short, Uncle Jazz thought he heard lions, so he told us to walk in a tight pack and sing on the tops of our voices to keep the lions away. You never heard a more fervent group of singers. I shall never never be able to hear that song, "yellow submarine" without being instantly transported back to a dark night in the Zambian Bush!

When we finally did make it to the house, we asked my mother why she had not come to look for us, and she said, "Oh we heard you singing from miles away, but you were having so much fun we did not come for you!!!! "

Does anyone know if any of the Claceys are still around. They had a little monkey I depised!! It used to bite!

Contributed by Marion Murphy.

November 2001