Rediscovering Hwange

This year has been all about rediscovering Zimbabwe—one wild corner at a time. After exploring the floodplains and forests of Mana Pools, we headed south to Hwange National Park, a place that never fails to surprise..

Hwange is Zimbabwe’s biggest reserve and, in many ways, the wild heart of the country: a landscape full of dust and drama, where elephants gather at waterholes, lions own the night, and every game drive feels like stepping into a story still unfolding. Coming back to Hwange felt like opening an old book and finding new chapters—familiar faces, unexpected moments, and scenes that left us completely spellbound.

The Landscape and History of Hwange

Hwange covers 14,650 square kilometres of savannah, teak, and mopane woodland. Four of the Big Five roam freely here—lion, leopard, elephant, and buffalo—along with rarer sights like sable, cheetah, and serval. We visited in October, right in the dry season, when every waterhole is a vital lifeline and every sighting a lesson in survival.

The park’s history adds another layer to its wildness. Once a royal hunting ground for the Ndebele Kingdom and home to the San people, Hwange still holds traces of ancient life: the Bumbusi and Mtoa ruins, dating back to AD 400, and pottery shards sometimes spotted along safari trails. The past here isn’t buried—it walks alongside the present.

Life at the Waterholes

Conservation beats at the heart of Hwange. A network of waterholes and pumps scattered across the park keeps tens of thousands of animals alive through the dry months. Water defines the dry season. Without these man-made lifelines, Hwange’s wildlife would scatter or face starvation, vulnerable to drought and poaching. Watching elephants, buffalo, and antelope gather and interact at the waterholes is a lesson in resilience and the intimate rhythm of bush life.

The park is also a key part of the Kavango–Zambezi Transfrontier Conservation Area, protecting its elephants and other wildlife for the future.

Wildlife Encounters

Our days blended into golden dust and rumbling herds. Hours spent in hides by waterholes revealed elephants of all sizes—tiny calves wobbling beside matriarchs, adults nudging and lining up to drink. At one point, I got splattered with mud as a trunk swung close to my head. Chaos, power, and presence—the herd’s energy was unforgettable.

One morning, a serval mother weaving through long grass with her two kittens took our breath away. Their oversized ears twitched at every sound, guiding the youngsters as they learned to hunt and play. In the soft morning light, it was intimate, quiet, and perfect.

Lions were never far off. Some prides rested under trees, cubs curled up in the shade; others moved with purpose, hunting or feeding on a fresh elephant carcass. We watched lions unbothered by our presence, while others slipped silently back into the grass, reminding us how unpredictable this wilderness is.

We thought cheetahs would stay elusive. Yet near the end of our trip, two brothers appeared in deep shade beneath a tree. Their sleek bodies glowed softly—so still and serene it felt like time had paused.

Just when we thought the wild had given all it could, the final surprise arrived. On our last morning, a pack of wild dogs teased a herd of buffalo, dust and energy crackling through the air. It was chaotic and unforgettable—a perfect farewell from Hwange.

Looking Ahead to the Green Season

After the harsh, dusty intensity of the dry season, I’m eager to explore Hwange again in the Green Season. From November to March, the rains transform the bush into a lush, vibrant paradise. Migratory birds fill the skies, newborn animals take their first steps, and wildlife appears in the most unexpected places. With fewer visitors, it’s more intimate and immersive. And the light—oh, the light—turns every moment into a photographer’s dream.