On a wet January morning at Somalisa Camp, in Zimbabwe‘s Hwange National Park, a tall, rangy paramedic named Elvis Tavengwa is instructing about three dozen bush guides on the finer points of first aid. “Come on,” he shouts at them, so animated he’s almost hovering above the floor. “Your guest is in cardiac arrest. What are you going to do?” The guides, dressed in every imaginable shade of khaki and olive, look at one another, uncertain. “He’s dying!” Elvis screams. “Chest compressions! I need chest compressions!” Several guides lurch forward to demonstrate on a dummy.
Each January during the rainy season, African Bush Camps (ABC), perhaps the continent’s premier Black-owned safari company, closes all of its lodges in Zimbabwe, Zambia, and Botswana, and convenes its guides for a two-week retraining program, the most rigorous in the business. In addition to first aid, this gathering of the Zimbabwe guides will include refresher courses in shooting, tracking, stargazing, photography, and more. During my visit, in addition to Elvis’s frantic pedagogy, I witness a workshop on the ABC values (authenticity, empowerment, conservation, collaboration, and care), a candid discussion among leadership about how to encourage more junior “learner” guides to take the steps to earn pro certification, and a team-building exercise during which the guides are given 20 pieces of spaghetti, 10 Band-Aids, a piece of string, and a marshmallow and charged with building a free-standing structure in under 20 minutes.
It’s really not so different from a Western corporate retreat. Only instead of taking place in a suburban convention center, it’s held in a delightfully classic, very remote tented camp in an acacia grove overlooking a water hole with a resident hippo. And as Elvis demonstrates the proper application of a tourniquet, things are happening out there. A waterbuck bounds by, the white circle on its rump bouncing up and down like a toilet seat that got stuck. Beks Ndlovu, the 47-year-old entrepreneur and former guide who founded ABC 18 years ago, summons me over to point out two lionesses prowling the ridgeline above an ancient dry riverbank.
