Heaven's struggle
While the battlefields of South Africa’s KwaZula-Natal province shine a light on its difficult past, a war on poaching is currently being won in its private reserves
Words Lyn Hughes | Photographs (unless stated otherwise) by Simon Chubb
(Alamy)
“We have to learn from history, but we don’t.” The heartfelt words of Mphiwa Ntanzi, a guide for Fugitives’ Drift, were carried on the bitterly cold wind as we huddled on a ridge overlooking a large plain. It was there that a force of 20,000 Zulu warriors had obliterated a British contingent in just two hours in the Battle of Isandlwana on 22 January 1879. As clever as the Zulus were, this was as much a tale of colonial arrogance and wasted lives.
We were in the heart of the South African province of KwaZulu-Natal, and Mphiwa had just finished explaining that when the Zulus first came to this area and found plentiful grass for their cattle, they named it the Place of the People of Heaven. All the British of the late 19th century saw was a chance to merge South Africa’s hotpotch of colonies. They believed that the Zulu stood in their way, so they engineered a war they thought they’d win.
Mphiwa had talked us through the events leading up to the battle in which the British mounted their invasion of Zululand, confident of routing the Zulu army. Thinking their enemy was 55km away, a temporary camp had been set up at Isandlwana while the commander of the British forces in South Africa, Lord Chelmsford, led the majority of the troops away to look for the Zulu.
“They underestimated their enemy,” said Mphiwa. “A dangerous thing to do.”
Mphiwa was born locally, and for him there was a personal connection to this history. “My grandfather and great-grandfather fought in the battle on the Zulu side,” he revealed.
“Several thousand Zulus marched on Rorke’s Drift and its 139 British soldiers”
We drove down to the battlefield and were met by the sobering sight of numerous white cairns marking where the bodies of British soldiers were found. In the car, Mphiwa played a tape of the late historian David Rattray setting the scene for the battle, outlining the characters involved: “It reads like a great Shakespearean tragedy,” the recording narrated.
A gifted storyteller, Rattray did much to popularise battlefield tours of KwaZulu-Natal before his untimely death. I was staying a couple of nights at Fugitives’ Drift, a lodge and private reserve that is still home to his family. I had attended one of David’s lectures back in the 1990s, but I could remember little from it; instead, the first picture of the Anglo-Zulu war that came to mind was from Zulu, the 1964 film starring Michael Caine. Based on events in the hours following the routing at Isandlwana, it tells the story of how a small number of plucky Brits held out against the Zulu army in nearby Rorke’s Drift.
In the afternoon, I headed to Rorke’s Drift to see it for myself, and it was a shock to find just how intimate the site was. In 1879, the then mission station had been commandeered by the British as a field hospital and supply depot, and a small garrison was left there while the British forces headed out in search of the Zulu army.
Following the battle of Isandlwana, several thousand Zulus marched on Rorke’s Drift, where just 139 soldiers, some already ill or injured, repelled them after 12 hours of fighting. Their only defence was a swiftly erected wall made of maize bags. Eleven Victoria Cross medals were awarded to men who fought there, the most ever in a single action by one regiment.
The hairs tingled on the back of my neck as I heard the story of the encounter, vividly told by another one of Fugitives’ Drifts’ guides. As we walked around the outside of the building that had served as the hospital, it was all too easy to imagine the scene as it would have been that afternoon and night. It somehow didn’t seem that long ago in time.
I was surprised that there were no people there other than our small party from the lodge. But visitor numbers to KwaZulu-Natal are still down from pre-pandemic levels and, while the coastal hotels had domestic guests enjoying the generally warm winter weather, the interior was being discovered by a small but discerning mix of global travellers enjoying the intimate family-owned lodges. It made for a peaceful setting as I explored a province that has seen its share of battles.
The former mission post at Rorke’s Drift is surprisingly small, but it is the site of one of the most famous battles of the Anglo-Zulu wars
Over the hill
Arriving at Three Tree Hill Lodge, having travelled through bucolic farmland scattered with grazing cattle, I was startled to see a solo male zebra hanging out by the gate, as if to welcome me. It was part of a group that had escaped from the neighbouring reserve.
Up near the main buildings, several horses wandered freely and the trees were alive with fluttering birds. As I walked into the lodge’s communal lounge, I spotted shelves crammed with history books as well as the more usual wildlife and travel guides. On an antique writing desk were artefacts from the Boer War.
Owners Cheryl and Simon Blackburn were consummate hosts, and they didn’t speak much about themselves. But I had learnt that Simon’s mother was Molly Blackburn, an anti-apartheid activist who lost her life in a car crash in 1985.
“Around 30,000 people attended her funeral,” said Simon when I mentioned that I’d been reading the press clippings about his mother in the onsite library built in her memory.
The lodge works closely with the local community, and duty manager Ntobeko Ntshingilato took me out to visit them, teaching me a few isiZulu words and expressions along the way. We stopped first at a traditional round beehive house, still lived in by a sharp-witted lady said to be over 100 years old. After Ntobeko checked that she was happy for me to visit, I stooped through the low doorway (which traditionally made it difficult for enemies to enter) and was gestured to sit on the floor.
Gogo (Grandmother) complimented the way I sat, legs tucked to my side, and I looked around at the simple but clean surroundings. The floor and wall were made of cow dung and mud, and the domed roof consisted of grasses bound so tight that they didn’t let in any rain. I longed to quiz her of how life had been when she was young, but the afternoon had turned hot. Gogo fanned herself, saying she was tired, and asked us to buy her a cold drink from the village.
In Hambrook village, the dwellings varied considerably, from circular rondavels reminiscent of the beehive houses (but made from mud bricks) through to the standard rectangles of the modern world. Each sat within a fenced plot, and Ntobeko explained that most families had a few cows that grazed out during the day but were brought back at night. Cattle are still important to the Zulu, and she explained how the dowry (lobola) for marriage is 11 cows, to be given to the woman’s family by the suitor. But, as this is beyond the means of many families, a lot of couples don’t marry, or wait a very long time.
“It was hard to believe this was the site of the bloodiest battle in the Second Anglo-Boer War”
Back at the lodge, the view from my cottage peered down into the valley of Spioenkop Nature Reserve, and I caught glimpses of giraffes among the trees. The Drakensberg mountains were a blue haze on the horizon, and the hill of Spioenkop dominated the scene. Among so much natural beauty it was hard to believe this was the site of the bloodiest battle in the Second Anglo-Boer War (1899–1902), which pitted British colonial ambition against a pair of republics set up by the Boers (descendants of Dutch, German and French Huguenot settlers).
Guide Pierre Jonker took us guests through a whirlwind history of the area: the waves of immigration over the centuries, the rise of the Zulus under Shaka Zulu (“Let’s be clear: he wasn’t a nice man”) and the circumstances that brought the Boers here (“They were tough people who hated being told what to do. They were looking for land and freedom”). Then came the history of the Second Anglo-Boer War and the Battle of Spioenkop (23–24 January 1900).
We drove to the hill where the battle had been fought. The British had advanced on a dark and misty night to take it, but in the morning they found that they had been encircled by the Boers.
“The Boers were not an army as such; they were all volunteers, commandos,” explained Pierre. But they had an advantage: they could see the British silhouetted against the hill. The latter had dug trenches but, due to the hard ground, these were shallow, so their troops were conspicuous. “It was the single bloodiest day of the war,” said Pierre.
Many of the soldiers were from Liverpool and Lancashire, which is why Liverpool Football Club’s famous supporters’ stand at Anfield is named The Kop, in honour of the memory of the fallen soldiers. The battle may also have had another lasting impact, as it was notable for the fact that Mahatma Gandhi and the future prime ministers of South Africa (Louis Botha) and the UK (Winston Churchill) were present, suggesting it may have influenced far more than a single war.
Nyalas are among the most beautiful antelopes
Sunset over the Drakensberg from Three Tree Hill
A last refuge
The next morning, as I was packing to leave Three Tree Hill, I looked down from my verandah and saw two white rhinos in the valley below. Peering through my binoculars, I could see they had been dehorned, a security measure taken to reduce the chance of them being poached. While the era of the big historical wars may be over here, the new battlefront is the fight against poachers decimating rhino populations for their horns.
KwaZulu-Natal’s Hluhluwe-iMfolozi Park was once known as a stronghold for rhinos, but after more than 300 were killed here in 2023, it was decided that a mass dehorning programme would be carried out, to deter the poachers. However, when the rhino dehorning began in April 2024, it opened up a new front in the war against poaching.
“It became a race between the good guys and the bad guys,” said Josie Reilly of the Zululand Rhino Orphanage. The orphanage took in seven rhino calves in April alone after poachers had swept in to take their mothers before the dehorning began. The good news is that there has been an 80% drop in poaching in the park since.
Operated by the Zululand Conservation Trust, the Rhino Orphanage is based in a secret and highly secure location. It only accepts a limited number of visitors to help fund their work.“You can’t take any photos,” stressed Josie, “and definitely not on your phone, due to geolocation. It’s far too risky for the orphanage.”
Looking at the tiny horns on the orphan calves under their charge, it was hard to comprehend why security had to be so tight. But Kelly referred back to an incident in 2017 when armed men attacked the Thula Thula Rhino Orphanage, killing two of the orphans and brutally dehorning them – one while it was still alive. The mostly female staff had been tied up and assaulted, so no chances were being taken here.
The baby rhinos arrive very traumatised, and early care includes the use of memory blockers. Once settled, they join the other orphans, which are currently divided into two groups by age. A tiny black rhino orphan was in an enclosure on its own, but it was due to join a younger group of white rhinos. When they get to around three to four years old and become self-reliant, they are carefully released back into the wild – ideally to where they originally came from.
“They have different personalities,” said Kelly fondly. “Samson is a scaredy cat. Griffin is very friendly. Lula loves food.” It was heart-wrenching to hear their tales. One is blind, but a sighted female calf has become his best buddy and acts as his eyes. Another was missing an ear – it is thought that she tried to protect her mum when the poachers came, so they swung a machete at her. “Unsurprisingly, it has made her a bit spicy!” said Josie.
Having a black rhino calf has added another challenge. “There were behavioural differences in her that we didn’t know how to interpret. White rhinos are much easier to read,” Josie explained. But since a rhino enrichment student came to review the black rhino, it is much happier. “We’ve seen a real difference, and it means we’ve made more progress with her.”
Fugitives’ Drift looks out towards the battlefields of Isandlwana and Rorke’s Drift, as well as a nearby site where two soldiers from the Battle of Isandlwana died in an attempt to save the Queen’s Colour of their regiment
Nature’s underdogs
Due to the poaching epidemic in South Africa, it’s no surprise that private reserves, with their greater resources and security, have become the safest sanctuary for wildlife.
At Manyoni Private Game Reserve, home to black and white rhinos, it was a thrill to see a pair of white rhinos on the drive in. A fellow guest at the reserve’s Leopard Mountain Lodge told me how she had seen a dehorning operation that morning. “It was interesting, but also so upsetting that they have to do it,” she said.
Another set of guests had just returned from a drive where they had been held up by a group of lions very close by.
“We have lots of warthogs here,” said one of the reserve’s team. “They are easy prey for the lions, which is why they sometimes come close to the lodge!” I now understood the instructions warning not to visit or leave rooms without an escort.
I joined some other just-arrived guests on a late-afternoon game drive. Our guide, Graeme, asked whether there was anything we wanted to see. “Lions!” was the immediate response from my Belgian companions. I’m sure Graeme was not surprised, but he was determined that we were going to appreciate the less sexy creatures of the reserve too.
“Impalas are the most overlooked animal,” he announced, and he pulled up close to a group of these medium-sized antelopes.
As he talked through their colouring and markings, their social structure and behaviour, I realised with embarrassment that it was the first time in all my years of wildlife watching that I had properly studied them.
The next stop was by a group of zebras – my personal favourite. “Why do they have stripes?” Graeme quizzed the group. After we floundered, he took us through a list of reasons: camouflage; they repel tsetse flies (and flies generally); identification (every zebra is different); temperature control.
The stream of facts carried on coming as we worked our way along the dirt tracks. It was then, in a clearing, that we spotted the unmistakable shape of the king of the jungle.
“He’s a juvenile male, and he’s been separated from his family,” said Graeme, watching as the lion emitted a plaintive call to its absent kin. He estimated that it was 18 months to two years old. “So he’s not going to be with his family for much longer anyway. He will be pushed away when he’s two or two-and-a-half years old.”
The young male is one of around 40 lions that live in the 23,000 hectare reserve. Manyoni was created from 17 different landowners dropping their fences in 2004, and it is home to all the big five as well as many endangered and vulnerable species, including cheetah. It reintroduces rare animals, works closely with the Zululand Conservation Trust and hosts a pangolin rehabilitation programme, which releases rescued pangolins back into the wild when fit, and then carefully monitors their progress.
Lions have close family ties, but this juvenile male in Manyoni Game Reserve had temporarily lost his mother
Manyoni’s scenery is surprisingly diverse, with forest, bush, grasslands, rocky hills and a river resulting in a wide range of habitats, hence the broad variety of species thriving here – over 450 types of bird and more than 70 mammals. My room at Leopard Mountain (yet another family-run lodge) had panoramic views over the reserve and the dried-up Msunduze River, all the way through to the Lebombo Mountains in the far distance.
I fell asleep to a soundtrack of roars, and in the morning we were told how lions had been outside the staff quarters when the team tried getting up. “It was chaos,” laughed one employee. The morning game drive then brought a sighting of a lioness with her two young, as well as glimpses of two large males sauntering through the bush with a swagger.
It was an opportunity to appreciate the less glamorous critters too. I’d seen wildebeest in large herds before, but not individual males guarding their own small territory. We spent time close to a herd of nyalas (spiral-horned antelopes), appreciating how beautiful they were. It was the same for the giraffes – extraordinary creatures whose Zulu name translates to ‘taller than the trees’. They are vulnerable to extinction, and yet this is rarely talked about. I even saw my first pangolin in the wild.
At mid-morning, we pulled up at a viewpoint to admire the scenery that stretched in front of us, and to enjoy a ‘rangers special’ – hot chocolate mixed with coffee and spiked with Amarula liqueur. After such an exciting morning, I was thankful to Manyoni and the other KwaZulu-Natal reserves for proactively conserving what is left of Africa’s wildlife.
As Mphiwa had implored all those days ago: we have to learn from our past. I thought back to the battlefields I’d seen, the wars that had been fought here, and the peace that had eventually descended. Like the many brave employees I’d met, I longed for the day South Africa’s poaching war would be just another tragic footnote in its history. For now, though, I contented myself with a last glimpse of what the Zulu had once called heaven.
Need to know
When to go
Winter (May to September) has dry, sunny days and cool nights, although temperatures can fluctuate (take layers). This is generally the best time for wildlife viewing, as animals gather at the water and are easier to see due to the lack of foliage. It is also the best time for hiking. Fires – controlled or otherwise – can make it hazy.
Summer (October to March) is hot, green and lush. Rain and storms occur on most days, but usually just for a brief period. This is a good season for migrant birds.
Whalewatching on the coast is best between July and December.
Getting there and around
There are currently no direct flights from the UK to Durban. Options include going via Dubai with Emirates or via Johannesburg with several airlines. Flights via Dubai cost from £799 return, taking 17 hours.
Self-drive is the most common way to get around, and there is little traffic outside the big centres. Off the highways, many roads are unsealed and unlit, and potholes make it unwise to drive at night.
Where to stay
Discover six of the best places to stay.
Conservation
The Zululand Conservation Trust website has details of how to make a donation or otherwise support their work, including the Zululand Rhino Orphanage. To arrange a visit to the orphanage, go to zululandconservationtrust.org/product/rhino-orphanage-visit.
The trip
The author travelled with Audley Travel on a 12-day KwaZulu-Natal self-drive trip. The itinerary includes time in the Midlands, the Drakensburg, the battlefields and Manyoni Private Game Reserve. The price includes flights, a fully insured rental car, accommodation (on a fully inclusive basis on safari; B&B elsewhere) and excursions.
Manyoni Game Reserve has a large population of lions