Out Of Big-Hearted Africa
by Susan Scharfman
“The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, but in ourselves.” — William Shakespeare
A memoir, like a photo, is a snapshot of the past. Though we live in the present, where we came from reminds us of who we are and how we got here. Where we are going remains in the stars.
For centuries the old trans-Saharan camel caravan routes were the super highways for taking goods out of Africa: ivory, gold, silk, salt, animals—and humans. The Romans colonized and plundered Northern Africa more than 2,000 years ago. Today, the flesh of millions of Nile perch is stripped, cleaned and flash-frozen for export to wealthy countries. Gold, diamonds, rubies and other precious gemstones are Southern Africa’s largest export industry. In West Africa, Nigeria is one of the top oil producers in the world. Yet with such abundance of natural resources, the continent has some of the poorest people in the world. Though the European powers that raped their African colonies are long gone, greed and exploitation under self-rule continues.
“The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, but in ourselves.” — William Shakespeare
A memoir, like a photo, is a snapshot of the past. Though we live in the present, where we came from reminds us of who we are and how we got here. Where we are going remains in the stars.
For centuries the old trans-Saharan camel caravan routes were the super highways for taking goods out of Africa: ivory, gold, silk, salt, animals—and humans. The Romans colonized and plundered Northern Africa more than 2,000 years ago. Today, the flesh of millions of Nile perch is stripped, cleaned and flash-frozen for export to wealthy countries. Gold, diamonds, rubies and other precious gemstones are Southern Africa’s largest export industry. In West Africa, Nigeria is one of the top oil producers in the world. Yet with such abundance of natural resources, the continent has some of the poorest people in the world. Though the European powers that raped their African colonies are long gone, greed and exploitation under self-rule continues.
The Africa That Once Knew Me - A Snapshot in Time
When I worked in Nairobi I'd leave the embassy office at five and be in the nearby game reserve before six—me, my camera and Africa. It was a time when a young boy learned from his older brothers how to spot the tip of a big cat’s ear hidden in the tall grass; how to throw a simple spear to snare a guinea hen for his supper. It was a time before the wholesale slaughter of animals.
When I worked in Nairobi I'd leave the embassy office at five and be in the nearby game reserve before six—me, my camera and Africa. It was a time when a young boy learned from his older brothers how to spot the tip of a big cat’s ear hidden in the tall grass; how to throw a simple spear to snare a guinea hen for his supper. It was a time before the wholesale slaughter of animals.
Sister Act
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Me on safari in Tanzania
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Medicine Man
I discovered that unlike people, lions don’t kill indiscriminately. But they do need to eat every few days. They sleep in the heat of the day and prowl for a meal in late afternoon. Females do most of the hunting because the male’s primary responsibility is to protect the pride, and his mane makes him a conspicuous target.
While camping near Tanzania’s Mt. Kilimanjaro, I was dozing one afternoon when a wizened old Maasai wandered into my tent. Inquisitive about the intruder in his domain, he bent over me and with a long skinny finger examined my hair and poked me in the chest. Then he rattled a sack of charms, waved his spear and mumbled something in his native Maa language before wandering off. No point chasing after him with my camera. The nomadic Maasai simply disappear into the environment. Now you see them…. now you don’t. My blond hair may have been a curiosity to this African yogi, but his presence conveyed a sense of wisdom and good will—like a doctor making house calls! In addition to his spear, today’s Maasai might also carry a cell phone.
Africa Makes - The World Takes
“Wildflower, An Extraordinary Life and Untimely Death in Africa” by Mark Seal is a beautifully written biography of Joan Thorpe Root, a British Kenyan-born woman married to photographer Alan Root during the many years they produced Oscar winning wildlife documentaries. A relentless conservationist, Joan Root was a little like me in that she was more comfortable with animals than people. Unfortunately, as with Diane Fossey (Gorillas in The Mist) and Joy Adamson (Born Free), Joan was also murdered while trying to protect the thing she loved most—African wildlife and Lake Naivasha where she lived on her farm.
When I knew Naivasha it was teeming with wildlife. We’d arrive at daybreak, set up a blind near the shore, be quiet and wait. If we were lucky, one of the most dangerous animals in Africa, Cape buffalo, might come to drink. Today, you’ll see a gathering of flamingos on the lake and maybe some hippos. Succumbing to the fate of globalization, Lake Naivasha has essentially morphed into a 21st century luxury tourist resort and flower growing enterprise for world markets.
“Wildflower, An Extraordinary Life and Untimely Death in Africa” by Mark Seal is a beautifully written biography of Joan Thorpe Root, a British Kenyan-born woman married to photographer Alan Root during the many years they produced Oscar winning wildlife documentaries. A relentless conservationist, Joan Root was a little like me in that she was more comfortable with animals than people. Unfortunately, as with Diane Fossey (Gorillas in The Mist) and Joy Adamson (Born Free), Joan was also murdered while trying to protect the thing she loved most—African wildlife and Lake Naivasha where she lived on her farm.
When I knew Naivasha it was teeming with wildlife. We’d arrive at daybreak, set up a blind near the shore, be quiet and wait. If we were lucky, one of the most dangerous animals in Africa, Cape buffalo, might come to drink. Today, you’ll see a gathering of flamingos on the lake and maybe some hippos. Succumbing to the fate of globalization, Lake Naivasha has essentially morphed into a 21st century luxury tourist resort and flower growing enterprise for world markets.
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Fifteen miles off the coast of Tanzania in the Indian Ocean lies the breezy island of Zanzibar. You can still smell the spices, but those exquisitely hand-carved wooden doors made locally for residential homes are now coffee tables in Beverly Hills. Authentic antique wood carvings, bronzes, sculptures and brilliantly designed textiles from across Africa have vanished into museums and private collections. A genome is the map of a human or animal’s DNA. Unless the code for an ivory tusk can be genetically modified to alter its development, we will no longer see an African elephant outside captivity.
Ernest Hemingway’s short story, “Big Two-Hearted River,” testifies to the destructive qualities of armed conflict, and the healing and regenerative powers of nature. After generations of exploitation, there’s a chance the more people visit the African continent the more attention might be focused on preserving what remains—its identity. A Mediterranean cruise will leave you with a full belly and empty pockets. An African expedition never leaves you. But you have to go now.
Dancing Maasai having fun.
