While many people are thrilled to have witnessed a ‘kill’ – one of the African wild’s most dramatic life-and-death moments – Mirek Trela found pure joy in a love story, though it was no less gory…

Particularly taken by its people and nature, I fell in love with Africa on my first visit in 2005. I’ve returned as often as I could afford, and had explored Botswana, Zimbabwe, Uganda and South Africa before my recent trip to Zambia.

My three weeks in South Luangwa National Park was full of wonderful experiences, and I spent plenty of time with many different families of animals. However, without doubt, there was one moment there that stood out above all others. Encouraged by other readers’ stories in Travel Africa’s Indaba Journal column, I thought I’d share my story.

As I did every morning, I went on a game drive with Martin, my local safari guide. With the air slowly warming and the wildlife abundant, the day seemed promising. After spending a good half hour with the local pride of lions, we drove past a dried lagoon, one of many in the Luangwa Valley. There, we saw a group of four giraffes: an adult male and female, and two youngsters. They were not shy at all, and we stopped to watch – I always enjoy being with these magnificent, quintessentially African creatures.

The male and female were definitely up to something; they stayed together, sniffing and walking around each other. Considering we’d seen leopards mating the day before, I thought to myself: “Oh boy, another love affair in Luangwa.”

After a few minutes the female caressed her mate with her neck – or ‘giving a neck’ as the guides’ call it – and then walked closely past the front of our vehicle. I noticed that she seemed to be urinating – well, that was until I saw a pair of hooves protruding. Her water had obviously just broken.

I imagine that when she was ‘giving a neck’ to her partner it must have been like us giving our dearest a kiss and saying: “Bye darling. I have job to do…” Even now I shiver at the thought of her goodbye kiss.

As the morning drew on it was getting warmer and warmer, and it was nearly time to get back to the camp. However, I agreed with Martin that there was no way that we could leave. We stayed and followed. And did we have to follow! She was constantly moving, though her family was always near. Another male joined the group during the process, but none of the other giraffes seemed to take notice.

Knowing the female must be in terrible pain, it seemed like forever (about 3.5 hours) before more than hooves started to show. However, it was at that point that the pace picked up, and we caught our first glimpse of the baby’s head. As if to give the female safety and comfort, the male stayed by her side constantly. A few moments later, half of the baby was out, and then voila! The tiny calf was born, all in complete silence.

The female and two males started to groom and sniff the baby immediately, while the two youngsters approached the calf with huge curiosity, not quite sure what they would find. When the baby moved, they scattered in panic – a lovely moment of humour in a rather tense and dramatic morning.

Soon the whole family surrounded the newborn, providing a wall of safety. It took a while before the calf started to really go for it. Its first task was to stand up. Did it ever struggle?! There were many trials and many spectacularly funny falls. However, each time it tried it improved, its strength growing by the minute.

The second task was to get a drink. Although its mum was always there, the calf was not always sure where to look for milk, even trying to find it under a male at one point! Eventually it found what it was so desperately looking for.

I was in awe by what I had seen and thanked Mother Nature and the giraffe family. That day taught me that if you are willing and patient enough, nature always has plenty to offer. I’ve since realised that this is true in all aspects of life.

I didn’t see ‘my’ baby after the birth again, but my friends in the valley keep me informed on its progress through life in Luangwa. I truly hope that I will see it later this year when I visit again.

Edition 46: Spring 2009