Impala runs through the thorny bush, ibises fly over the lake and lightning forks over the horizon as a storm comes from the Drakensberg mountains.
Visitors driven through 10,000 or more hectares of the Nambiti game reserve in South Africa’s KwaZulu-Natal province see what they think is an unchanged and unchanging natural landscape.
Njabulo Hodla, the assistant manager of the reserve, sees something else: thick undergrowth that someone must cut, trails that need to be cleared, fences to repair and animals that will have to be slaughtered eventually, each another victim of Covid. “It is difficult, very difficult. I’ve never seen a time like this, ”said the 31-year-old, who has worked at Nambiti since 2008.
Across the continent, Covid hit South Africa the hardest, with over a million confirmed cases and 29,000 deaths according to official figures. As in other parts of Africa, the pandemic caused enormous economic damage, with thousands of companies going bankrupt and tens of millions unable to make a living. The economy eliminated 2.2 million jobs in the second quarter of 2020.
Reserve Map Nambiti
The huge tourism industry – which employs about one in 20 workers and provides just under 3% of GDP – has been devastated.
In the past, the December holiday season meant tens of thousands of foreign visitors spending hundreds, even thousands, of dollars every day. Now, with the rate of new infections in the country skyrocketing as authorities struggle to contain a second wave, no one expects tourists to return soon.
South Africa’s nearly 500 private game reserves are generally in more remote and impoverished parts of the country. They spend considerable amounts each month to feed and care for the animals. Many were forced to shut down permanently, fire employees and sell, or even shoot animals. Others survived – only.
“Reserves like ours have gone from a good income, supporting 300 jobs and a major conservation project, to literally nothing. We fell off a wall, ”said Clarke Smith, president of Nambiti. “We are still in pain … and the impact on the region is very strong.”
Nambiti is a community-owned project, unlike many, so a substantial proportion of profits and an annual rent are paid to local villages. This year, these revenues are quite low and, with many reserve employees still working short hours or at home, the next few months will be very difficult.
“Instead of a holiday bonus, people are taking home only half a salary or nothing,” said Hodla, who grew up in one of the nearby villages. “The communities around here are just at stake. The reserve plays an important role. Everyone knows someone who works here. “
Many fear that if the crisis continues for many more months, hundreds of thousands of hectares across South Africa that have been converted into more profitable game reserves in recent decades will revert to livestock or cereal crops – with a massive loss of habitat for endangered animals and other species.
But if the wildlife conservation business was hit hard, so did the protection of other parts of the country’s heritage.
Like many parts of rural South Africa, northern KwaZulu province suffered from acute unemployment, massive health problems, including tuberculosis and HIV, and profound poverty, even before the pandemic. Industries have been destroyed in recent decades, with many mines and factories closing.
In some places, such losses have been partially offset by what has been a growing trade in tourism on the battlefield. Tens of thousands of British visitors began to tour the sites where British troops fought against the Zulu in the bloody war of 1879 that consolidated imperial rule in southern Africa.
The battlefields of Isandlwana and Rorke’s Drift are the main attraction for British tourists usually old enough to be fans of the 1964 film Zulu which dramatized the story of the catastrophic British defeat and the last trench in the locals.
This winter – or summer in the southern hemisphere – both battlegrounds are “empty”, memorials, tombs and museums deserted.
“There is no work. We are just sitting there. The situation is very bad. There is a drought and no crops in our fields, and a bag of corn [maize flour] it costs twice as much as it did in the spring, ”said Dalton Ngobese, a local guide, who has not worked since March.
As tourists left, street vendors also sold ethnic handicrafts, snacks and water. A portion of the battlefield entry fee goes to schools, so that source of revenue has also dried up.
The lodgings were closed for much of the summer and have only recently reopened, receiving far fewer guests. The accommodations provide jobs and also finance support programs for local students, charitable foundations, orphanages and other projects.
“If we are suffering, the whole community will suffer a blow,” said Shane Evans, manager of the Isandlwana Lodge, which hosted tour groups across the battlefield.
In the village of Isandlwana, there is resignation. With so few jobs in place, men traditionally travel to Johannesburg, six hours’ drive north, to work in mines or, more recently, in hotels. But both industries are also suffering, and most of the Isandlwana residents who had jobs lost them.
Government aid has been patchy and a huge burden for a country that is still struggling with the legacy of the racist and repressive apartheid regime. The ruling African National Congress, in power since 1994, is accused of incompetence and corruption, but it also has to deal with a decaying economy, tens of millions of people in poverty and huge debts. A job support program was guaranteed until the end of the year, but the money is taking time to come out.
One consequence in the villages around Isandlwana is that crime is on the rise, with livestock theft and theft getting worse, Ngobese said. A recent drought meant that local communities around the battlefield were unable to plant crops that traditionally supplement income and diet.
Nellie Buthelezi’s husband was one of those fired by the local government due to job cuts earlier this year, while the cottage where she works has been closed since March. The mother of four, 41, has lived in Isandlwana her entire life and cannot remember such bad times.
“The food is expensive and goes very fast. We don’t have money to rent, “she told Observer. “We hope in God for a better new year.”