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The Language of Silence

The Language of Silence

I am not that certain exactly where I started out my journey in this lush deep rainforest of the Eastern Congo. No road to speak of, just some trodden pathways from elephants and locals crossing my path now and then. I am heading in a Southerly direction, sometimes a little East and then West again, meandering along the last ripples of the great African rift valley.

It is a humid and hot December day, bellowing thunders with dark clouds of vapour looming above the horizon in the sea blue sky. With a leap of faith into the gorge 400 feet below, we follow the twist and turns of the rocks picking up speed, as the valley narrows and slows down into the vast man-made lake of Kariba.

Following the lake shore for 2 days and 2 nights, I reach the enormous dam wall. The valley is slender here and the early morning sun rays do not reach the water until about 10.00 am in winter. A few miles down-stream we pick up Gabi and her husband, who I met years ago, one other couple, my guides, and together we all travel for 7 days in an Easterly direction along the Zimbabwe and Zambia border. Being here without a telephone, car, internet, email, television, nor radio, except just us, the wind, stars, moon, planets and the milky way accompanied by the hippos, crocodiles, elephants, monkeys and the roar of the lions at night, together with all other wildlife. Of course, the sunrise and the sunset is the highlight, with the magical light of the morning sun and a steaming cup of coffee.







Too soon we reach Mana Pools, the greatest bathtub for all animals. At this point I say goodbye to my friends and I continue my journey in a more South Easterly direction. The hurdles of this journey never end…oh! excuse me, I have forgotten to introduce myself.

I am the Zambezi River and speak one language – the language of silence, yet all my friends make every effort to understand me, and I hear them.