I lived in a little shanty-like neighbourhood called Kiwafu while in uni in Kampala, with a roommate, Gasirigwa, who was from Tanzania. A room. One window. A mango tree outside the window. The adjoining door – permanently locked – led to the living room of our landlady, a lovely Muslim woman with pretty-ish daughters that we made a pact never to touch because she was a darling to us, a mother to us, and that made them our sisters from another mother. The bathroom was outside. The toilets were outside. We lived on a shoestring budget; rolex, beans, chapos, groundnut sauce, sweet potatoes. Repeat. Drinking water was from kavera, water in branded polythene sachets.  We were having the time of our lives.

One evening, at about 7pm, I was going to… okay, I don’t know where I was going but I had left our little cave when a panicked lady suddenly ran into the street. She startled me. She had a leso around her wide hips. Actually she looked like one of those market women in those oil paintings you see in Java. Only that she was light-skinned, very light-skinned even in that semi-darkness. She anxiously curled her hand around my biceps (not all the way, though, I had big guns) and spoke Kiganda and I told her I didn’t understand. She then spoke terrible Kiswahili and from her accent I realised she was Congolese.

There was a snake in her house, she said.

My biceps tensed, making them appear bigger than they were. I think it is a natural protective instinct for a man when a woman is in danger. I was there to save her. It was going to be all right. Only there was one small problem. I was scared shitless. Okay, it wasn’t a small problem, it was a big problem. Bigger than my biceps.

I  absolutely fear snakes. I’d rather be eaten by a crocodile than by a snake. Put me in a cage with any animal but not a snake. The very sight of a snake makes me want to pee my pants. I cautiously approached her open door. Orange light spilled out. It was a small two-room hovel with cheap furniture in the sitting room,  a small television set on a stool, some boxes in the corner, a stove and utensils in another corner, and a doorway that led into a darkened bedroom. I didn’t see a snake.

Pengine ametoroka.” I told her hopefully. My throat was so dry I was surprised I could even get a word out without bruising my throat. She was cowering behind me and I was worried that she could hear my loud heartbeat.

“Hapana, bado bameingia ndani kule!”she said, pointing at the boxes in the corner with a multi-coloured finger. She seemed to have bleached her skin and somehow the knuckles hadn’t absorbed the bleach and so they remained black while the rest of the hand became light. Her hands looked like the hands of a colobus monkey. Ahh, Batoto ba, Brazzaville.

She said she couldn’t sleep in that house until she was sure the snake was gone. I wondered why I hadn’t left my house sooner, if I had I wouldn’t have walked into this madness. Now I had to find the damned serpent. I was shitting bricks. I fetched a long stick and standing very far, used it to part the debris at the corner of that house, ready to bolt at first sighting. Her house was a mess, strewn with things that didn’t make sense. She struck me as a hoarder. I saw an old iron metal box with a wooden handle that looked older than me. She had clothes all over, glittery clothes, a favourite of Ugandans, it seemed.

I asked her how big this snake was and she looked at her hand said “nusu ya mikono.” I stared at her hand. Did she mean the length or the width? It didn’t matter, it was a snake and I hate and fear all of them. I hate their vacant eyes and how flat their heads are and how they never blink. Anything that doesn’t blink is scary; like when a woman asks you, “Who did you say you were with yesterday again?” and then she just looks at you without blinking.

Anyway, you will be happy to learn that I managed to “arrest” that situation, saving that Congolese girl in the process. She was profuse in her gratitude. At the end of the ordeal I had so much adrenaline in my system all the hairs on my head seemed to standing straight at the roots. Have you ever been so fearful you feel all the H-pylori in your stomach actually move?

I don’t remember that incident with pride, I remember it with a great deal of embarrassment. Because I was so shamefully fearful, holding that stick with clammy hands, completely devoid of confidence or dignity. The only reason I did it was because she was a woman. Had she been a man I would have told him, “Chief, we both have sticks, use yours,”  and left him to it.

Recently I did something fearful, once again because of a woman. Or women, rather.

I was in South Africa earlier this month, for the World Animal Week, where World Animal Protection was launching a campaign asking people to sign a new wildlife selfie code (see it here  ) to make people kinder to wild animals by ceasing to take selfies with them. Basically promising not to disrupt animals’ lives for the sake of Likes on social media. Because you and your cameras stress wild animals. Especially when you have to touch them to photograph them. They don’t say it but they feel violated. But one day they will say it. I’m sure. You wait.

Anyway, initially I was to fly down to the Amazon rainforest for the same thing on World Sloth Day (yes, there is such a thing), to see how sloths are stressed out by being held by tourists for selfies. I will now allow you a moment to Google a sloth. It’s okay. I will wait.

Did you see it?

I don’t know who would want to take a selfie with a sloth. That animal looks like a cobweb duster with bedroom eyes. But it’s all the rage in the Amazon, apparently. People pay money to carry a sloth and take selfies with it. It’s amazing the heights human beings will go to amuse themselves. Somehow (regrettably) I didn’t manage to go to the Amazon and meet a sloth, but I ended up in Johannesburg to experience walking with lions, which seems like a very romantic thing, that is, if the lion doesn’t change its mind and eat you.

The night before, I googled “lion eating humans” (1.7million results) and picked the one with graphic warning on it. In the video a lioness had held a man down by his neck and a male lion with a massive mane was standing over this (near) kill. The man was still struggling, but barely. There were bystander voices that sounded either punjabi or pashto or urdu. The comments on the video were morbid. Someone wrote, “throw in one more human, and get a better camera, can’t see shit.” Another said, “Mess with Israel and this is your fate, God bless the Lion of Judah.” I spent half hour reading the comments of people complaining about the quality of the camerawork. I should have given up on this darkness and stopped there, instead the devil egged me on and I searched for more videos of lions killing people; the darkest and the bleakest.

By the end of it, I was terrified. The very prospect of walking with the lions the next day filled me with horror.

So I did what you would have done, I went to this bar not too far from where we were staying in Sandton. There, I ordered whisky (Glenmorangie,no doubt) from a Zimbabwean barman whom I lied to that there are tons of very well-paying bartending jobs in Nairobi. When I told him that I would be walking with lions the next day he said in that accent of theirs, “Eeeei, my maaan! Err you white?”  I kept ordering doubles because, well, Glenmorangie pays for my drinks now. But no matter how much I drunk, the fear would not leave. It squatted in the basement of my stomach, right above my bikini line. [He-he.]

The next morning I woke up sure that this was a bad idea and I needed to withdraw. What business did I have going to walk with a wild animal? A lion at that. Wasn’t it enough to have saved a distressed woman from a snake many years ago? My only consolation was that in all the videos I watched of the lions eating people, there was not a single one of a lion eating a black person. I didn’t know if that was a good sign or not. This meant that lions either didn’t like black people’s meat – which would make them racist – or black people had better things to do with their lives than find themselves in a space where they are eaten by lions.

We got to the park. I was with four ladies. One of them was Ugandan. Two were South African. One was Kenyan, Lucy, from World Animal Protection. Before we paid (the irony! Paying for a possibility of death) I mentioned that I was changing my mind and the ladies said, Oh no, you can’t, it’s going to be alright, nothing will happen. We are already here.  I should have said, Oh sod it, I have two kids, I’m black, I won’t do this. Bite me. Instead I agreed, to save manly face. I then went to the washrooms to pee because fear provokes urination.

We signed Liability Waiver forms. You only sign Liability Waiver forms when there is a chance you might die.Nobody signs Liability Waiver forms in restaurants. Or when buying a phone. Or when buying a shawarma. We then drove into the park and shared the tour van with an American lady who, naturally, was excited. White people seem to live for the promise of death. We passed a giraffe on our way. The white lady leaned in to take a picture of the giraffe. I would never take a picture of a giraffe. I always wonder what people do with all the pictures they take of some things, like giraffes or tortoises. Do you on a hot Wednesday afternoon in the office, take a break from studying your spreadsheets to look at a picture of a giraffe you took on a safari?

The lions were two.

Someone named them Rialda and Naledi. They were 10 months old but were those lions that don’t look their age. They looked 10 years old. They were in a cage drawn by a vehicle. The lions looked restless, like they had ants in their pants. I asked when they were last fed and the handler said a few months ago and laughed. I bet he tells everyone that joke. I bet he thought he was a real comedian. Even worse, I bet some people laugh at that joke. I didn’t. I found it sad. And inappropriate. Like fat people jokes.

What happens when they lose their minds and decide to attack us? I asked the big warden guy.

They won’t.

No, but what happens if they do?

We have done this for many years, they won’t. Trust me.

I was even more worried because the last person who asked to to trust them was this tattooist who I wanted to do a my son’s footprint on my arm and he said, trust me, it will come out the way you want it. Well, it didn’t. It doesn’t look anything like a footprint. It looks like a root. I look like a herbalist.

The warden had a bucketful of pieces of horse meat. Lions love textured meat because they don’t have toothpicks. They prowled the cage, staring at us. I avoided eye contact. I figured that when they are finally let loose and they want something to eat, they would start with the white lady because, well, white meat is healthier.

“Don’t touch their head or their tails.” The burly warden warned us and I wanted to ask, “What about their nipples?”

Their cage was opened.

They jumped out.

I could feel their weight as they landed on the ground soundlessly. Paws like cotton. A heaviness that displaced air. Their muscular shoulders heaved. The atmosphere changed; a lion charges the air molecules around you. Your body, your organs, recoil instinctively in their presence. You hold your breath because you are afraid they will hear you breathe and realise kumbe you are alive and eat you. Mostly you feel their energy, it’s primitive energy, one that can’t be governed. Look, I can’t explain it. Some things defy description, like the sun, or a lion. A lion is just a lion, it’s too visceral for words.

The man with horse meat threw some at our feet and they ran and gulped the meat and miraculously ignored our feet. I was just about ready to pee on my shoes. They rubbed themselves against our legs like cats, I could feel how muscular they were. And they smelled. Lions smell. It’s not a bad smell. It’s their fur. Their fur smelled like old carpet in the sun. A wild smell. A smell with texture.

My stomach churned.  

Because I’m writing this they obviously didn’t eat us. Or the white lady, miraculously. Which means they weren’t real lions. You have to experience it yourself, but something happens to those lions when they keep getting touched and stroked and told that they are cute, which is what the white lady kept saying, “Oh these girls are so cute!” People shouldn’t tell lions that they are cute, it turns their temperaments into that of house dogs. I wanted to tell her that first, they are not girls, girls don’t smell of old carpets in the sun…at least not the girls I know. Secondly, they are not cute. Domestic cats are cute. Mickey Mouse is cute. A baby with a splotch of ice cream on the tip of the nose is cute. A lion is a killer. It’s not cute.  

I once watched a very old and weak lioness at Meru National Park (you have to visit that park, it’s amazing). She had a million fleas on her body and she was lying under a shrub by a river, hungry, emaciated and with most of her teeth fallen off from old age. She was waiting for small animals to come to water so that she could kill and eat them. I was with some white folks from Brighton, England (read that with a posh British accent) and they wanted to go closer to it because it seemed harmless in it’s half dying state. Our tour guide warned us that should we dare step out of the van, that weak and almost dying lion would be on us in a flash and it would maul us even in its last desperate dance of death. “Because there is no such thing as a weak, sick, young or old lion, they are all killers,” he said.

But Rialda and Naledi? I don’t know. They were changed. If they went to a party in the wild with real lions they would not be let in. The bouncer lion with his massive mohawked mane, standing at the door of the jungle, legs apart, would say, “Sorry, ladies, you are not one of us; you have been touched by humans, you smell of them and of Bvlgari. Plus we hear you are cute. Now, beat it.”  


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    1. Biko you’re amazing
      I can’t get enough of this
      Your ideas always sparkle me to write more like this recent one I did . It’s called the story of daisy

  1. Lol…when was like 5 yrs I stepped on a snake one early morning. You know the rock was so big and I was so short I had to move over it so slowly and I hanged my leg and finally stepped on it. I felt the softness of the snake as I did so and quickly jumped. Called my mum who told me she saw it and it was not dangerous. The snake looked at me and just went into the bushes. I fear snakes since that day…we still have unfinished business with them as I meet them more often in my village. Some poisonous some fresh and ready when the Chinese come calling…..but you need to meet an annoying Chameleon too….


  2. That’s some shade Biko, eti she forgot to bleach em knuckles. LOL!! And that ‘Bikini line’ allusion, woi!! Iamdead.
    Awesome read as always.

      1. On the contrary Pat, I think they are. When Jaguar sang about kigeugeu, he left out knuckles. They don’t change for anything.

        I think myself macho but when a snake comes calling, I whimper and scamper.

  3. Biko, yaani I have laughed and felt like I took the trip with you-ati white meat is healthier……thanks for not disappointing.

  4. You know why no Africans are ever eaten alive by lions? It is because they have more appetite for non-life threatening things (like drowning dogogios and goat eating at Kwa Njuguna or Kikopey) than jumping inside cages with lions. I think its a self preserving lifestyle.
    But probably once in a while we should live for the promises of death.

    1. I think Africans don’t go around doing dumb stuff. You have folks in the west romanticizing the wild animals of Africa, thinking they are pets that we live with…methinks they push the Tarzan story too far..but it’s one thing to imagine us being in a feral co-existence with our animals and asking us if we understand ‘animal-speak’, it’s quite another to ignore signs such as “Draw your windows up”..and lean closer out of an open window to get a ‘perfect-shot’ of a lioness; or “Don’t swim here this lake is infested with crocodiles”…then jumping in butt-naked for a midnight swim. In both scenarios, there were fatalities and people turned up dead. Then there was this story of some tourists in their tiny car slowly trailing a male elephant (who was on heat and thoroughly pissed off),.and ended up goring the driver with it’s tusk as it overturned their little car. Africans know to keep their distance when it comes to an animal in the wild. Period.

      1. well, excuse the both of you, but this African right here (pointing at self) is down for near death like thrilling experiences like threatening an elephant in the tsavo and having to run for your life. I will have you know, Elephants are extremely fast. Thank God for rescue teams and cars. That’s a very very dumb idea that I prolly won’t try again but that I really do not regret. you can’t buy such thrill

  5. Hahahahaha! This piece is hilarious Biko. And no, i would not have gone to a bar to contemplate my walking with Lions the next day. Though i felt your fear….wah!

  6. Oh I have laughed!

    I have a short assignment in Uganda and only recently discovered what that Kavera and rolex means!

    On the snake though…hahahaha…. good use of stick!

    thanks for making me laugh.

  7. Hahaha, Biko, that snake story is even more hilarious. I once saw a tail disappear into our room in campus, I incited my roommate that it was that of a snake. To cut the story short, the entire hostel came searched the room, unconvinced, we didn’t sleep there all week.

    Very few people can stand snakes ooooh…

  8. “My only consolation was that in all the videos I watched of the lions eating people, there was not a single one of a lion eating a black person. I didn’t know if that was a good sign or not. This meant that lions either didn’t like black people’s meat – which would make them racist….” ha ha ha

  9. Hehehe. This one is damn right hilarious.

    Anything that doesn’t blink is scary; like when a woman asks you, “Who did you say you were with yesterday again?”

    Good read Biko.

  10. ” I always wonder what people do with all the pictures they take of some things, like giraffes ” Wonder no more. I do that stuff because family is everything. Hanging out with family is always very precious for me.

    Biko, why would you want to touch a lioness nipples though? Oops, forgot you are a boobs man.

    Nice read. Very funny.

    1. Super hilarious!! An awesome read as always. It made my morning… If I start highlighting,I’ll highlight the whole article,coz it’s that good!

  11. Hahaha…Anto ka aluor…to manage diep…OK lach. Aseluor bendo. Ka adhi execution proceedings e court. Kawuono. Highciurt Uganda.

  12. Have you ever been so fearful you feel all the H-pylori in your stomach actually move?

    Can those with Helicobacter-pylori answer the man? Mine is undiagnosed 🙂


  13. Walking with and petting lions is a white people thing.Plus who names a lion Rialda and Naledi sounds like a Barby’s name that’s why you survived they were probably like
    Rialda: Omg nals these humans think we are cute told you we are a catch
    Naledi:Hell yeah we are…..look at our flawless bodies(not knowing they smell like old carpet)

  14. hahahaha, fear does provoke urination……. how did you not pee while the lions were gulping down the meat at your feet? or what are you not telling us chocolate man? mmmhhhhhhh

  15. Nice read Biko; your description of the lions did them justice. “Paws like cotton. A heaviness that displaced air.” I hope Rialda and Naledi somehow, someday, will find their lion-ness again.

  16. Aki so Leo ume digress deadly clearly u hate snakes . Mimi nilitaka kujua what happened with the snake n the bleached ,hippious(lol) Congolese Lady,and how ur biceps saves the day , ama how she kataad to sleep in her room, and u had to be the knight in shinning armour(lol) took her back to ur roommate, who thought u had brought back dinner .hahhaahahhahahaha

  17. when i read about snakes i get tensed too not only when i see one..hehe Biko those lions why are they always given weird funny names.

  18. I was so convinced the lions had eaten you up just before you said it! Thank you so much for the clarification. Lol

    Great read!

  19. Who would want to take a selfie with a sloth? I´d Freak out! Those animals are too lazy to groom their fur and are therefore Habitats of moths, beetles, coackroaches, fungi, algae etc. (I´m not a zoologist, just watched a documentary the other day. He he he) Great read though, as always.

  20. I figured that when they are finally let loose and they want something to eat, they would start with the white lady because, well, white meat is healthier. I am grinning in a mat and some lady is craning her neck.

  21. I think I will stick to Nat Geo wild for now…thank God you made it because lions ain’t cute and African meat might not be well seasoned and Africans are never taken hostage

  22. “I always wonder what people do with all the pictures they take of some things, like giraffes or tortoises. Do you on a hot Wednesday afternoon in the office, take a break from studying your spreadsheets to look at a picture of a giraffe you took on a safari?” The answer is yes. I have so many pictures of animals that my phone has automatically grouped them under “safari”.

  23. My first time to hear of a Sloth was from the Zootopia animation; as much as it looks like a cobweb duster with bedroom eyes, that thing is daaaamn slow. It would take a century to read a single blog from Biko Zulu… but afterall, we all loved Zootopia and love Biko Zulu

  24. Nothing ..i repeat NOTHING is tamed ,Ever since i watched a couple of shows on Nat Geo or was it discovery called”when good pets go bad”(check it out.kinda hilarious..if Ur a bit of a sadist)i don’t trust animals no matter how cute and fuzzy they seem.You are lucky to be alive.

  25. Don’t touch their head or their tails.” The burly warden warned us and I wanted to ask, “What about their nipples?” Ha ha ha…..

  26. “They rubbed themselves against our legs like cats, I could feel how muscular they were. ”
    The cute kitties kicked it up a notch higher, they claimed ‘their human.’

  27. If anything i’d rather be poisoned by a snake than be mauled by a lion.ouch…i can already feel my skin under it’s clutches

  28. The warden had a bucketful of pieces of horse meat. Lions love textured meat because they don’t have toothpicks. They prowled the cage, staring at us. I avoided eye contact. I figured that when they are finally let loose and they want something to eat, they would start with the white lady because, well, white meat is healthier.

  29. ………………of “Meru National Park (you have to visit that park, it’s amazing)”.
    To say that it’s amazing is an understatement. Tembea Kenya ujionee

  30. Well, I have been fascinated by Sloths since I watched Ice age, then watched some documentary about sloths back in 2014. I googled all about them. Then….Zootopia happened and there was Flash and Priscilla. I would have a sloth for a pet

  31. Aye Biko, what do you say you talk to the good people at the Tourism board about this. I am sure we have two lionesses at the Mara who can fit the bill. We can even hold auditons and the winner and runners up get the slot. That plus perfect Maasai name like Ntimama (it is the only maasai name I know) and we are good to go. I want to piss my pants and there is no need of flying my ass all the way to South Africa for this. Cheers!

  32. Hilarious, allow me to say ROTFLMFAO! Il sure visit Meru National park. I live in Meru and I’ve never been there.

  33. Great Read –
    Biko is Back! I laughed out aloud, all the way to the last line. (My colleagues must think I’m nuts)

    “ROLEX, beans chapo…”
    ” a multi-coloured finger..”
    “hands of a colobus monkey”
    “Did she mean the length or width.. ” (of her hand)
    “H-pylori in the stomach”……..

    Biko, May you be forgiven!

  34. I wish it was possible to upload a picture in these comments. I have a picture of Biko, extremely terrified (he didn’t lie about that part), walking the lions. I got the picture from some South African Facebook bigwig who also saw the idea of black people walking lions as a “degradation of our culture” as Africans.

    Meru National Park is a place to visit btw. And the old lady lion passed on btw.

  35. “That animal looks like a cobweb duster with bedroom eyes…”, hate speech! on behalf of my fellows, i demand an apology.

    1. hahahaha….I apologise on his behalf and mine too because I think that’s a fair description for you guys. Lol

  36. Hey Biko, or Linda …. Well whoever is receiving this message, (AND I HOPE YOU DO).
    Am only half of 40, but i do greatly love, treasure,… the 40’s posts. All the rest are great but I do favour those ones in particular.
    The reasons behind it,endless list so lets me just sum it up to… I NEED IT, WE NEED IT (in hope that someone else is also out there, always going through every sentence of your post in hope that it’s on the 40’s to read and learn from those posts). Sure there are books on people’s experience, but I…..I mean WE prefer it when you post it.

    No pressure or anything(obviously am in no position to put you under one) at least put up one up once in a while ama every day! Your call.
    Ama finding people in their 40’s with a genuine story is hard to find??? Ama you’re looking for a particular kind of story?Ama you’re still waiting on that mother who is raising a set of 4 or more girls hers or not! If not, most mama mboga women have one, that shoe shiner opposite the bankrupt Nakumatt Lifestyle has one. I also have one but let’s just postpone to… the future. Even if it’s tomorrow!
    Ama you’re also waiting for ‘After election’ if there is still one (like most Kenyans). Either way please please please please.
    Tell me you’ll respond to my cry (message). Or maybe you already gave your reasons to pause the 40’s I just didn’t get the memo. If so, do send a copy.
    “Am just a girl typing on my friend’s laptop, asking for a response”

  37. First of all,
    It is Luganda not Kiganda or rather be sure to address a person as Kiganda next time.
    Naledi and her comrade did not bite, but that lucky human may just bite.

    Anyway, you have successfully expelled traces of personal fear regarding lions with this post.
    I be sure to try the trick with the warden(placing horse meat at my feet)

    Yeah, in my wildest dreams.aki i am getting good at this dry joke thing.
    Lions and wildest…Get it

    *returns to my little corner on the internet*

  38. Kampala was an interesting time, we had no fear, loved adventure and expected the world. Rolex, Monday’s drinking batunda, club silk, tripple Decker beds…memories galore.

  39. Wait, You wanted to touch a Lions Nipples? I think touching a porcupine’s booty could be way more catastrophic. Do you go around collecting Euphoria in dangerous endeavors like touching a crocodiles Adams Apple? Did this audacity build up after you did “I don’t know what” to that Ugandan snake?

      1. I have a feeling when i write something, anything, anywhere you are immediately notified of the mischief i am orchestrating therein.

  40. 1. So you went to school. Makerere, but obvious.
    2. Comparatively a better piece since we had Njeri.
    3. Food wasn’t involved yet it came out good. Or the food was white meat.

  41. Very funny read, from start to end.

    I know 2 people that fear snakes more than they fear hell, one a friend that won’t read beyond the word snake because he fears to pronounce the word and mama who made me kill a tiny house snake. I was 8, she was 35. She can’t look at one or attempt to hit it. If she’s ever faced with that big problem, she’d rather close her eyes till it gets bored and leaves her alone.

    First time I saw a sloth was in zootopia, the animation. Extremely slow and ugly thing but then, beauty lies in the hands….seeing some people have to be held to stop taking pictures with them.

    And the walk with lions! I have questions. 1. Who comes up with such ideas, walk with the lions? 2.Who named those lions? Chocolate man pissed himself when the lions got to his feet, I can bet on that. Who wants to bet?

  42. Gosh!!…just recently i took a picture with a girraffe and a colombus monkay…..i already feel white, but my knuckles and earlobes are still black..

  43. You got a great command of English man, you described the place until I felt I was part of your team in S.A. At least today I learnt what a Sloth is. Now Glenmorangie can pay for my drinks

  44. The liability waiver forms.. Mmh.. Reminds me of this time I had gone to Kereita for zip lining and we had to sign those forms. Kinda brought me back from all the excitement of having fun to actually placing my life in my own hands! Literally. Because if your straps happen to get lose, your arms will have to save you as you hang on for dear life, 200-300m above trees with pointy branches and thorns.

    Nice read Biko.

  45. Biko thank you for overfeeding my funny bone .I am an adrenaline junkie and I’ve done things that make me smh later .In Durban I gleefully signed a liability waiver form and went into a shark cage,where humans become the attraction that sharks come to watch.We were three in this cage that was immersed in the ocean and it was all good and fun until one guy started shaking the cage frantically because he was not having enough fun with the sharks.Mind you the cage is open at the top and by now there are 7 sharks circling the cage.It was scary as hell .Did I learn my lesson?yes yes.Would I do it again?Yaaas..

  46. Hahahahahahahaha. still laughing it away. Biko i thought men were supposed to be Macho 🙂 “my bad” and nothing scares them away (apart from a angry woman) hahahaha.. Anyway a great travel read… next time smile and stroke Naledi and Rialda, from your piece they sound polite hiihihi..

  47. Ophidiophobia – thats the name for an insane fear of snakes. You & i share that. Have you seen those pics people take in snake parks with damn pythons on their necks? Just the thought of it gives me the shivers, ive never even been into a snake park.
    Once when i was about 10 & a tiny (depends who is telling the story but i swear it was massive) snake slipped into our house; embarrassed to say that i took to my heels & left my mom & siz “eating my dust” – not my proudest moments.

  48. waaahhh I fear snakes I can imagine Biko trembling with that stick in his hands just to prove to the lady that he is a man

  49. HAha……“Oh these girls are so cute!”……..But in reality these were lions.With mane.
    U’ve got one of the most envied command in humour.Keep this stuff comming.Since i ran into your hiding place, i never will come out of it, but i must tell on you.