A River, A Village, A Lion, and a Mustang

The Songwe River Basin divides the countries of Malawi and Tanzania. It is the target of a collaborative project between these two countries to contribute to economic growth, reduced poverty, improved health, better living conditions, and enhanced food and energy security for the people in the Songwe Basin as well as economic development of the two countries.

Songwe is also the name of a village located on 300 acres of private land, 5km downstream from  Victoria Falls on the Zambia side of the Zambezi River, perched 300 feet above the deeply incised and rugged Batoka gorge. This village is built to resemble a traditional Zambian village and the atmosphere is just as peaceful, calm and relaxed as that of the local villages.

Playing with Songwe with a stick and string

And Songwe is the name of my favorite male lion cub at Lion Encounter/Livingstone, Zambia (not far from Songwe Village). I lived onsite at Lion Encounter, inside the Mosi Oa Tunya Game Preserve, for 2 weeks in August, learning about lions and lion conservation as part of the African Lion Environmental Research Trust.


Songwe. A beautiful African word, representing three inspiring stories of Africa, the land of my dreams, still wild and untamed, inspiring, breathtaking, and heartbreaking all at once.

So I guess it isn't surprising that I chose this word as the name of my horse. I chose it for him only hours after returning to North Carolina from Africa, the red-brown dust of Zambia still stuck to my boots. And like the other Songwes, he represents something special, unique, and ambitious, because he's a 2 year old mustang that I adopted, sight-unseen, except for some photos, from the Bureau of Land Management's (BLM) Wild Horse and Burro Internet Adoption Program. 

Songwe arrived in North Carolina the same day I did, the travel dust still stuck to his coat after his long journey from Colorado where he had been living for many months in a BLM holding facility. His birthplace was the Great Divide Basin in Wyoming; a drainage basin that adjoins the Continental Divide in southern Wyoming, with mostly flat to slightly rolling foothills, and a dry, grassy landscape not unlike what I found in southern Africa. He was captured when he was just a few months old, in November of 2011. It must have been traumatic.

And so we came together, from opposite ends of the earth, both tired from our long journeys to begin a new journey together. My choice more than his. If it were his choice, he'd still be running free on the plains of the Great Divide. 



I credit my decision to adopt a mustang to my friend, Chelsea, who recently started up The Appalachian Center for Wild Horses, a non-profit designed to advocate and promote wild horse preservation and encourage mustang adoptions in the eastern U.S.. After nearly 30 years of owning domestic horses, I had been horseless, by choice, for a few years. And at age 52, quite honestly, I was okay with the path I had taken. I was done. But then Chelsea introduced me to her mustang rescue, Shiloh, which planted the seed in my head about me adopting a mustang. A crazy idea, probably...but then I had harbored a long time love affair with mustangs since childhood. I first learned of their plight when I read Marguerite Henry's "Mustang, Wild Spirit of the West" at age 10. The story of Velma Johnston ("Wild Horse Annie") inspired me to write my congressman, Rep. Jack Kemp (R), about voting to protect wild horses and burros and ending the cruel roundups that would result in maimed and tortured horses being mercilessly captured and taken to slaughter for dog food and other animal feed. The efforts of thousands of kids like me paid off, and The Wild-Free Roaming Horse and Burro Act was passed in 1971. It was a huge victory for the mustangs. (Read more about the problems facing mustangs today by visiting the American Wild Horse Preservation website.)

And so here I am, beginning a new chapter in my equine story. I don't expect this will be easy. Not by a long shot. And I have no idea how it will all turn out. I guess you could say that I have high hopes and an open mind. No matter what happens, I know that it will be an experience like no other. So I invite you to check back each week to see how the story of Songwe unfolds.

Just think...in the last few weeks, I went from walking with lions in the grasslands of Africa to walking beside a wild horse born in the grasslands of Wyoming.

Songwe. I whisper your name into the wind as your mane blows softly against my cheek.