Leigh Kemp: an interview with a safari-superhero

by Marco Monteiro-Silva, 1 May 2007

[i]"There came the legend

There came a man out of men

There came a warrior Leigh...”[/i]

It would be easy to assume the above quote is a piece of narrative from Heroes - The new hit TV show taking most of the modern world by storm.

'Heroes' propagates the idea that it is merely a matter of time and cataclysm before our species finally undergoes its next evolution, an era in which super-humans will be separated from humans, and heroes from mere men.

The above extract has, in fact, much humbler origins. A few years ago, Leigh Kemp was working in the Kruger National Park training people from a local community to become safari guides and camp staff. Leigh made a lasting impression, and one of his trainee guides wrote a poem titled The Warrior Leigh.

Heroes and humble origins

Leigh would be the first to self-consciously brush off the flattering warrior-poem with a wholehearted laugh. He's not one for hero talk. In fact, Leigh Kemp's ego is about as far from superman as Clark Kent is from investing his meager Daily Planet earnings in Kryptonite shares.

And yet, with over 20 years of formal safari experience, Leigh Kemp has an almost superhuman knowledge of Africa. Couple this with an immeasurable amount of energy, enthusiasm and patience, and you have a man able to teleport you into a world beyond the city walls and sidewalks of your daily life, in a way that can almost be described as supernatural.

Leigh lives in a vibrant, beautiful and often savage reality in which the histories of ancient termite civilizations are as profound and colourful as the tales of the elephant-hunting lions of the Savuti.

I recently had the privilege of spending some time in Leigh Kemp's world.

The following interview took place informally over a few scattered days while we explored the Kruger National Park on a privately guided South African safari (conducted by Leigh) for the benefit of some of Go2Africa's newest trainee travel experts.

The interview begins

M: Tell us a little about your childhood?

SL: "I grew up on a farm in the Eastern Cape. As the youngest sibling I was allowed the luxury of running around the farm and doing my own thing, while my two older brothers concerned themselves with learning the family business.

"Little things interested me as much as the big ones, and when I wasn't exploring every little corner of the farm I was lying in my mom's library devouring books on insects, and animals.

"My mom had this huge library, and I was exposed, at an early age, to everything from the sciences, to Africana literature and Hemingway.”

M: Sounds like a happy childhood

SL: "Incredibly. I also became completely happy and at peace in my own company. Something that has stayed with me ever since.”

M: When did you first realize you wanted to work in the bush?

"From my first conscious moment,” Leigh says, taking his eyes off the road for a second and flashing a large grin in my direction.

"To be honest, hunting was the first attraction. I grew up in a time where hunters were these iconic figures that defined what it is to be a man.

"They were men's men. Heroes, explorers and adventurers; the kind of men you read in the works of[Courtney Selous, and Rider Haggard novels. As a child the romance of Africa was intricately tied to the perception of the iconic figure of the 'great white hunter' created in these stories.”

M: How does an aspiring 'great white hunter' become a conservationist?

SL: "There was no defining moment really. As I grew up the fantasies somehow dissolved and fell apart.

"Behind these fantasies I found this fragile and mysterious world, infinitely humbler and more interesting than the African hunting legends of old.”

M: Have you ever been charged by any of the Big Five?

SL: "You mean a serious charge?”

M: Is there a difference?

Leigh laughs at me when I say this. There's a lack of fear in his voice when we talk of the wilderness that unnerves me a little. As a city boy, I'm all fear and no bush-brawn when it comes to encountering the monstrous predators of my childhood-colouring books on their home turf.

M: I'm getting the distinct impression that you're not really afraid of anything?

SL: "I've had what I'd call unnerving moments in the bush. I'm not trying to act tough or anything when I say that I never really feel afraid in the wilderness. The excitement and adrenaline of encountering wildlife always seems to over-ride any fears.

"Look, there are definitely things in my life I fear. It's just that my fears are more rooted in questions about the human condition, and also the fears that surround us as a species.”

M: Fears that surround us as a species? That sounds apocalyptic.

SL: "It is. There's no denying it. We are a slave species! We've been brought up to fear life. You can see the effects of this everywhere. Now that's something to be truly afraid of.”

M: I take it then that rumours of you disappearing from lodges and camps at night to go for walks in the bush by yourself are not exactly exaggerated then.

SL: "How do I answer that without getting into trouble?”

M: Would it help if I told you we were off the record?

I take my bare feet off the dashboard, and reach for an imaginary voice recorder, switching it off. We get distracted by two male lions lazing in the sun, seemingly unaffected by the Impala and buffalo hanging around a waterhole nearby.

Hours pass as we sit in the rental van, watching a lazy afternoon at a waterhole play out. We get further off tangent by talking about Pink Floyd, Leigh's compulsory army service at the age of 17, and whether or not animals have souls.

The wild night

It's 11pm on a Wednesday night and we are sitting around a bonfire at Tintswalo Manor House. The house is luxuriously stranded in the middle of the Manyeleti Reserve and is kept safe from animal intruders by nothing but a flimsy,waist-high electric fence.

We quietly sit by the fire, listening to two male buffalos fighting in the dark some twenty invisible metres in front of us, Leigh mentions that he'd love to go for a walk right now. I try changing the subject as quickly as possible.

M: So give us a little insight into these private safaris you're going to be conducting for Go2Africa soon?

"Very excited about that.” Leigh says sitting up in his chair, and rubbing his hands in front of the fire. "Basically, I'll be taking private groups of clients to various African destinations. Sort of like a 24-hour safari chaperone.”

M: What benefits would someone get from having you privately guide them on a safari holiday, when lodge staff and rangers already host people?

SL: "The continuity for one. Having someone knowledgeable along from the journey's beginning to end, as you hop from place to place, can be an incredibly rewarding experience.

"Rangers tend to know a great deal about the specific area they work in, but it helps to have someone who can tie it all together in a more comprehensive way.”

M: Why choose Botswana for your fist private guiding expedition?

SL: "For one I know it intimately. I lived and breathed the Botswanan wilderness for over ten years. Also, I really do believe Botswana offers the visitor one of the best African experiences available.”

Embrace the darkness

We slip back into silence behind the crackling fire. It's too late to be talking business. I shut my eyes and try to acclimatize my senses; nothing seems to console me though.

It's dark, I can't see a thing except the fire, and the only sounds I hear are the loud crunching noises made by creatures, much stronger and bigger than me, while the feed.

Leigh breaks the silence, " You know Marco, when I walk in the bush at night, that's when I'm most at peace with the world... it's as if the human side of me switches off and my human nature stops controlling me... It sounds weird, but I feel totally protected and at ease.”

M: That's funny. I feel like food when I'm in the bush, night or day.

"It's all in the confidence of the walk. You have to stop walking like food.” Leigh says.

With that piece of profound advice, I say goodnight and set off to bed. I leave Leigh to the night, to the sounds of male buffalos fighting loud, invisible battles, and roaming hippo and elephant herds.

Peaceful Sleeplessness

Over breakfast Leigh mentions that he only got an hour's sleep. Its been a few weeks since he'd been in the bush, and last night he couldn't help but stay up and indulge himself in the nightlife of the Manyeleti by sitting in his chair until well after the fire dulled into ashen blackness.

M: Your Go2Africa wildlife guide is being published online soon. Can you describe the wildlife guide in one sentence?

SL: "An exaustive record of a personal journey.”

M: And future projects?

SL: "Where to start. There's the private guiding we talked about last night, then my two unpublished wildlife books that need revisiting.

"I've just got to keep myself focused and not get too comfortable. That's the only way I'll get anything accomplished.”

The journey home

As a kid, I grew up on superheroes; I even developed a knack for tracking them down. Whether in old basements, discount supermarkets, or rundown thrift stores I always seemed to manage to discover them amongst the rubble of newspapers, fashion magazines and discarded trinkets.

Until my adult years, I had no interest in finding these stories anywhere outside the safe coloured pages of these faraway worlds.

I like to think that somewhere in the middle of the Kruger, completely out of my element, with my bare feet on the dashboard and large sunglasses on, I managed to discover yet another one of these superhero stories.

This one went by the name of 'Safari Leigh', and should you be able to afford the opportunity, I would recommend you pay the Safari-man a visit, and have him take you along on one of his quiet African adventures way beyond the surface of your sidewalks and city pavements.

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