At least a glimpse of the Sitatunga


  1. 12 June 2007, by Elly Wamari in Nairobi. The 22 kilometre journey from Kitale town to Saiwa Swamp National Park appears to have taken too long. It is already 6.40 am, and we will stand no chance of spotting the rare sitatunga antelope once the sun goes a little further up.

    We are not about to let that happen, so we quickly disembark from the Toyota Lancruiser vehicles as soon as they stop at the entry point, and leave one of our guides to sort out the usual administrative matters.
    Within seconds, we are through the gates that give entry into the marshy park. “You catch up with us!” we tell him almost in unison and disappear into the paths.
    A group of 11 journalists and five officials from the Kenya Tourist Board, we had just spent a night in Kitale town, which is about 400 kilometres to the Northwest of Nairobi, Kenya’s capital. Kitale is the closest biggest centre to the park.

    This little town, famed for the large tracks of maize plantations that cover nearly every piece of undeveloped land and pronounces its identity, has quite some thriving nightlife that had kept a number of us awake for a better part of the previous night. We had to sample some of the many clubs in town and get a feel of the taste of beer here. It is strange, but there is always this feeling that beer tastes differently somewhere else, even if it is the same brand.

    And so, it is with a bit of heavy eyes that some of us start searching for the Sitatunga, a crepuscular semi-aquatic antelope that happens to be very beautiful yet quite shy. You see it either at dawn or at dusk or never. You would have to be extremely lucky to catch a glimpse of it at any other hours during daytime.
    Saiwa Swamp National Park was gazetted in 1974 to conserve its rich flora and fauna, then threatened with encroachment. It is the smallest national park in Kenya, covering an area of about 15.5 square kilometres.
    The beautifully green marshland takes about three square kilometres of this, and it is around it that paths and wooden platforms are built to guide visitors who travel far to see the unique antelope.

    Although there are other animals in this park, such as the equally rare De Brazza’s monkey, the nocturnal potto, and a number of bird species, it is obvious that the favourite attraction here is the sitatunga antelope, scientifically referred to as Tragelaphus spekei.
    The presence of a wooden cottage, built high above the ground on one edge of the swamp asserts this fact. It was put up purposely for those who choose to spend the night (at a fee of course) here just to be sure they catch sight of the shy sitatunga during those odd hours. Being the only cottage here, it isn’t very cheap.

    We admire it momentarily and make a few remarks about saving some cash and coming back here to stay overnight should we fail to see the sitatunga. Nevertheless, we get back to our tracks in our determined mission to at least catch up with one latecomer sitatunga. The animals come out of the marsh to feed in the wooded lands as night beckons, and return when the day breaks. That’s why it is only possible to stumble into some at these hours.

    A game warden had informed us that they number just over 100 in this small park. We are halfway through the paths and we haven’t seen any. “How unlucky can we be,” a colleague curses. “Don’t blame circumstances. You simply overslept,” comes a quick answer to his remarks.
    Then suddenly, the leading group halts. One of them beckons us to maintain silence. We walk stealthily closer, cameras already drawn like guns and eye balls expanded. We squat and peek through the woods that border one side of the swamp.

    It is obvious a sitatunga has been spotted, so there is no asking questions. I peer through the thicket but see nothing. I move close to a colleague and whisper “where is it?” “We’ve only caught up with the latecomer’s butt, and there it is,” he whispers back and points at the brown rounded rare of the sitatunga. But that too, melts into the marsh at the first click of cameras. Even though, I have at least caught a glimpse of the animal that prefers to spend its days hidden in the papyrus and partially submerged in the wetlands.