Personal Journeys

A Memorable Place

A baby rhino means hope in Zimbabwe

By Gina Rumore

SPECIAL TO THE SUN

Through the 10-foot-tall pens made of scrawny mopane tree trunks, I catch a glimpse of a massive baby. Though less than a year old, it is already larger than the biggest pig I have ever seen -- though its body shape doesn't appear to be all that different.

With a guard's permission, I wriggle my arm between two of the tree trunks and hold out my hand for the rhino to inspect. With its muscular upper lip, the baby probes the palm of my hand. Its lip feels like a cool finger. When it wraps its lip around my fingers and pulls them toward its mouth, I resist just enough to avoid losing an appendage. Freeing my fingers, I run them up along the rhino's horn. It feels cool and firm, yet alive.

On a cool July morning -- mid-winter in Zimbabwe -- our group boated across a bay of Lake Kariba to walk with the black rhinoceroses of Matusadona National Park.

Shortly after sunrise every morning, the rhinos leave their pens and walk into the Matusadona bush flanked by armed guards. Matusadona is one of several heavily guarded refuges set up to protect the nearly extinct black rhinos of southern Africa.

Like their relatives, the white and Asian rhinos, black rhinos have been poached to near extinction for their horns, which are more valuable than gold in some parts of Asia.

Leaving the pens, we follow the guards into the bush toward three older rhinos. The youngest of the three, 2-year-old Mvura -- which means "water" or "life" in the local tongue -- allows us to pet her. Her skin feels like the concrete on a sidewalk, and the few hairs on her body feel like strands of wire.

Despite this, I find myself stroking her the way I would a kitten. Mvura also allows us to feed her. With her prehensile upper lip she ensnares the branches we offer and pulls them sloppily into her mouth, not seeming to mind the leaves and twigs that fall to the ground. She grinds the wood to a pulp like a cow chewing its cud.

It seems odd and sad that she must live guarded by armed men who adhere to a strict shoot-to-kill policy with respect to poachers. Yet in this madness, I can't help but feel hopeful.

The Zimbabweans we meet at Matusadona feel very strongly about saving the rhinos from extinction. The animals represent hope to these people, and the guards take pride in their work. In a country struggling under the oppression of a tyrannical dictator, hope is everything.

Gina Rumore lives in Towson.

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