VASTLY GREEN—Kasungu National Park stretches across a lush landscape
Kasungu National Park is a vast sanctuary that once teemed with unspoiled life before its fragile ecosystem fell victim to the relentless assault of poachers.
Since its founding in 1970, the reserve has cradled some of Africa’s most iconic species— elephants, lions, rhinos and antelopes.
But over the decades, the silence in the reserve has grown heavier.
The park’s peace has been shattered by gunfire, its soil stained by a different kind of footprint, the kind left behind by poachers.
One of them is a man in his early sixties who has developed deadly tactics in his pursuit of animals behind the fence erected to keep his kind out and wildlife in.
“I have been a poacher for over 40 years, since the time of the one-party system of government,” says the poacher, veiled as Tsika, with a dry chuckle as he approaches the electric fence of the vast park.
Poaching in this reserve, initially driven by the demand for ivory and bushmeat, became a major problem throughout the 1980s and 1990s.
During this period, poachers like Tsika became entrenched in the illegal trade that continues to plague the park despite a reduction in activity.
Roots of a relentless trade
He became involved in poaching as a boy, drawn by the promise of money and the survival instincts that poverty often triggers.
Over the years, he learned the trade, becoming skilled in tracking animals and avoiding park rangers in this less touristy reserve.
Though his methods have evolved, he remains an active participant in poaching despite anti-poaching campaigns.
He initially mentions entering the park to collect mopane worms, which are both a food source and a commodity in local markets.
His tone is casual, though those familiar with the area know he has hunted larger animals including buffaloes and antelopes, something he initially attempts to downplay.
“We also get mushrooms in the park, but even that is illegal because entry is restricted,” the father of 10 and grandfather to 16 says.
Crossing the line
LIFELONG POACHER—Tsika reveals to the author some strategies he uses to hunt undetected
Despite a stretch of about 87 kilometres of the national park being fenced, Tsika regularly finds his way inside, where he hunts a variety of animals.
The meat often ends up on his family’s dinner table or is sold to others in the community.
Yet he continues to insist he does not target larger animals, downplaying the more dangerous and illegal aspects of his activities.
A local community organisation that promotes wildlife conservation is pleased with the
