Whilst travelling from Nairobi to Cape Town with Dragoman we ventured into the Serengeti and observing some elephants one of our party, a school teacher, commented “A Frikin Elephant” then explained:
From the diary of a Pre-School Teacher
My five-year old students are learning to read.
Yesterday one of them pointed at a picture in a zoo book and said,
“Look at this! It’s a frickin elephant!”
I took a deep breath, then asked…”What did you call it?”“
“It’s a frickin elephant! It says so on the picture!”
And so it does… ”A f r i c a n Elephant”
‘Hooked On Phonics’ strikes again.
If you wish to see a Frikin Elephant in its natural environment contact Often in Africa who can help you achieve your goal.
Not everyone will believe what you tell them when you get home.
The shrill sound of the whistle cut through the humid tropical night as the wheels of the tandem Beyer Garratt locomotives began to turn hauling the night train out of Mombasa station.
These powerful engines were needed to take the carriages up from the coast to the savannah.
There was a party of five travelling in one of the compartments and by daylight they were passing through Tsavo.
Four of the group settled down to a game of bridge whilst the fifth gazed across the savannah glimpsing the snow covered dome of Kibo and the jagged tooth of Mwenzie through the Acacia.
Suddenly, right by the track was an enormous elephant with tusks so long they crosses near the tips.
“Wow, did you see that elephant!” exclaimed the exited traveller but by the time his companions looked up from the card game all they saw was the bush.
Even if they had stopped the train and gone back the elephant would have already melted into the surrounding landscape.
That evening they were in the bar of the Norfolk and the group who had been playing cards were ribbing their companion doubting that he had actually seen an enormous elephant with tusks so long they crosses near the tips and the others in the bar joined in with comments such as “Don’t be daft man. An elephant with tusks like that could not survive in the bush” and other such remarks.
At the end of bar sat a lean figure, his skin tanned by the African sun and his slouch hat stained with his own sweat and red dust of Africa.
He downed the last drop of his Tusker Larger and the room fell silent as he stood up and walked towards the door.
All the eyes in the room watched as the tall figure traversed the room.
As he reached the door he turned and spoke to the silent audience with a quiet but strong voice “I don’t know why you don’t believe him. My colleague saw such an elephant in Amboseli a year or two back and I saw one in Samburu a couple of months ago.”
He turned and walked out into the starlit African night to the chorus of the cicadas.
People all over the world have ‘experience’ which they cannot prove and are unable to replicate, but they know what they have experienced.
There are people who do not believe them and dismiss these ‘experiences’ as fantasies or the results of a fertile imagination and use arguments such as “Why do only some people have these ‘experiences’?”
Well, why can only some people play musical instruments, why can only some people sing beautifully, why are only some people good at mathematics or dancing or sports, ad infinitum?