Masai Mara: Unforgettable, Unbelievable, & Unimaginably Life-changing
- Faraaz Abdool
- Aug 7
- 5 min read
From the moment one considers going on safari in Kenya, there is one name that immediately comes to mind: Masai Mara. It has been the setting of countless wildlife documentaries over the years that have fed the psyche with mystical scenes of unreal beauty and unfathomable drama. Animal societies unfolding in an inspirational landscape that are so complex we are only now beginning to crack the codes on some of them. To be present in this space is a true gift from the highest place, to bear witness to this fountain of life is nothing short of a privilege.
By definition, a fountain is a feature that keeps providing - and that is the essence of East Africa. It is a holy land, one that gives. It is impossible to properly describe this feeling, but once felt, it cannot be denied. In the Masai Mara, one is forced to take periodic deep breaths, not for the lack of aspiration in general - but there are sights that simply take the breath away.
When the first thing one encounters upon entering a park is an elephant - it’s serious. The Mara is renowned for its wilderness, and the presence of elephants is testament to this. They are sensitive creatures, and perceive the world much differently from us. There is much that goes on behind those coffee-brown eyes. From forming opinions about their human observers, to recalling ancient memories - who can confidently say what occupies the mind of an elephant? Certainly, their thoughts cannot be imagined as human thoughts, as our thoughts are a direct result of how we perceive the world. This perception is typically via our five physical senses, which are severely limited. Elephants can sense the world outside of our perception, and therefore their world is decidedly different from what lies before us. By extension, their thoughts also must be beyond our imagination.
Basking in the presence of these behemoths is one sure way to cement one’s insignificance. We have no clue what lies over the horizon, but they do. We cannot find water in a drought, but they can. We can cut vegetation and make roads like they do, but they know where the correct path is.
The word “Mara” in the Maasai language translates to “spotted”, for the sight of the land from a distance reveals a vast plain dotted with short acacia trees. Coincidentally, the reserve is also the home of the Mara Hyena Project that is devoted to learning more about - and conserving - the Spotted Hyena.
Hyenas are unique animals and abide by a strict social hierarchy. Far from being repulsive scavengers, they are intelligent opportunists.
As if the plethora of wildlife on display would bore the observer, the twilight hours of both dawn and dusk turned the dials to maximum, with spectacular bursts of colour and drama in the sky to complement what was already happening on the ground. Night seemed to be a bit reluctant to step in, but eventually it would - encouraged by roseate and violet hues, the first bold stars become apparent and the air temperature drops as the nocturnal opera begins.
Shortly before the crack of dawn on our first morning in the Mara, we woke to the unmistakable sound of a roaring lion. Far-carrying and primal, it is a sound that reverberates through every bone and sinew. Something was happening, had happened, or was about to happen. After another lavish breakfast, we began our game drive through the reserve, the sounds from earlier now a distant memory, obfuscated by expectant eyes scanning the horizon. However, there was a barely perceptible difference - an unease of sorts had rippled through the various animals we encountered that morning. It was most noticeable among a group of three buffalo bulls. These temperamental beasts are notoriously irate on a good day, but there was still something odd. Among ourselves, we postulated potential reasons for the bovine’s vexation - but without empirical data, there was no way we would be able to put our finger on any.
Time is the revealer of all things, though, and shortly thereafter all was made lucid. There was a singular reason for the unease. A singular word in fact: Lions.
Predator-prey interaction is a constant in the wild, but little else happens when a praying mantis grabs a wasp - or when a bird grabs the mantis - or even if a jackal grabs the bird. These events do not seem to distort the continuum to any great extent. When a large animal falls, however, it is a completely different script. To begin with, much planning must go into the act of bringing down a beast of such dimensions. We are all programmed to preserve our lives, some choose to flee while others will fight. The choice of prey determines methodology and required personnel. This morning, the target was a buffalo.
Arguably one of the most dangerous animals on the continent, Cape Buffalo are intimidating and incredibly powerful - justifiably out of reach of most predators. They scoff at crocodiles, hyenas, and most big cats. Most. Buffalo are not creatures that flee, they are warriors to the core. Their hooves and horns can maim, even kill, potential predators. Lions, even in their supreme power, must carefully strategise to maximise their chances.
It is dangerous work, though. Lions are frequently injured, and many wear the scars to prove it. They are some of the most resilient of creatures, both in body and in spirit - and can make a full recovery from some surprisingly grim situations.
While the grazers kept their distance, nearer afield other prowlers were around as well.
The lions’ kill was so fresh that vultures hadn’t begun to congregate yet. Seeing a vulture away from a carcass is a rare occurrence, as many of the African vultures are teetering on the brink of extinction.
Hooded Vultures are currently listed as Critically Endangered and have undergone precipitous declines across Africa within the last half a century.
Lions weren’t only eating that day. Mating is a protracted affair, and is a game of patience and persistence. The act itself is over within seconds, but is repeated many times over the course of a few hours.
At a bathroom stop, the birds were going absolutely bonkers at one of the adjacent buildings. The source of their annoyance was a Puff Adder, cozily tucked away at one of the building’s exits.
Spotted cats do indeed vanish in the vegetation.
The plethora of life on display seemed like a revolving door consistently churning out one shape after another. Cats, ungulates, pachyderms, and birds, of course. Oh were there birds. Sandgrouse, spurfowl, and lapwings lined the roadways that crisscrossed the reserve, while eagles and Secretarybirds kept the keenest eyes on any potential snack. The ground itself rippled with the gentle wind, widowbirds helping to bend grasses the breeze failed to shift.
Do enjoy this gallery of images - all taken from our trip to the Masai Mara in 2024, by the way. We paid three further visits to the Mara in 2025. Those images are yet to be published - but will be soon, on this blog.
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