Kafue National Park in Zambia is At 22,400 km², it’s Africa’s largest wild reserveWhy I love Africa? You still find those areas where you feel the land is still breathing in its own rhythm, untouched, raw— spaces so vast you could wander for days and never see another soul.Kafue National Park in Zambia is one of them. At 22,400 km², it’s Africa’s largest wild reserve.
Flying in with Wilderness Air, From above, the Busanga Plains looked like a stage set for Africa’s greatest drama, seeing the silver threads of water glinting in the sun and herds and noticeable splashes of red lechwe as we descended. I. The cliché “wild open spaces” came to my mind. I soon realise I have stepped into something rare and irreplaceable— and at the heart of all lays Shumba.
Arriving in August the soil was dry and barren, eagerly awaiting the first rains in October. Here the wilderness feels abundant, alive, as though it’s been stitched together with every shape and colour nature could imagine. 158 species of mammals roam Kafue, and more than 500 species of birds fill the air with movement and song. Yet there is a silence , a pregnancy that hovers- every second a reveal, a wonder.. I could not believe the herds of red lechwe and puco splashed everywhere, their copper coats catching the morning sun. Kafue is also home to the Kafue lechwe, a subspecies found nowhere else. Decades ago, their numbers fell from nearly 80,000 to around 23,000, but conservationists are working to bring them back.Not one but a herd of sable antelope also joined the show. The elusive sitatunga were missing but apparently they return when their is wet papyrus reed-beds
There were abundant lions everywhere—tawny-maned, powerful, and utterly at home in the dusty floodplains. At dawn, their roars roll across the grasslands, a reminder that this is still a kingdom where predators rule. I could not wonder if this was the real Africa before humans destroyed the essence of with greed and lust.It hasn’t always been an easy road for Kafue. Like so many African parks, it has faced poaching, encroachment, and years of underfunding. But standing here now, I can tell you there is hope. Since 2022, African Parks, in partnership with Zambia’s Department of National Parks and Wildlife, has taken the reins of management. With new ranger teams, aerial patrols, and strong community involvement, elephants, lions, and even lechwe are finding their footing again.On the fringes, life continues as it always has. Local communities still cast nets in Lake Itezhi-Tezhi, exercising fishing rights under strict seasonal permits. It’s a delicate balance—livelihoods and culture on one side, the fragile pulse of conservation on the other.
In places like Kafue, the wilderness still whispers its truth: reminds me of how insignificant we as human been is and how arrogant we have become. Shumba Camp…? The name itself means lion, and when you’re there, you understand why. After a 45 minute – stop- and- look drive we arrived at Sumba Camp, the heart of the Busanga Plains. Perched on a tree island in the middle of the Busanga floodplain, Shumba feels like the centre of the earth. Traditional hospitality with a continental flair awaits us. This was the African dream. We encountered our first lions on the way to the camp and their roars will still constantly in the background. Could this be to real, I asked myself. I have been doing this for 22 years. The constant roaring reminders played through the night and was some of the first sounds that registered in my senses every morning. There was no doubt about who owned this place.
Shumba Camp – It’s an intimate camp — just six tents in total — but each one is a world of its own. Raised high on wooden decks, the tents open out onto private verandas where the view stretches forever. Inside, it’s all thoughtful touches: wide beds draped in mosquito nets, soft linens, and en-suite bathrooms with both indoor and outdoor showers. There’s nothing quite like rinsing off beneath the open sky, listening to the sounds of the bush carry across the plains.Wooden walkways connect the tents to the heart of the camp. Under the shade of giant fig trees you find the lounge, dining deck, and a sunken fire pit where evenings gather into stories and laughter. There’s even a plunge pool, perfect for cooling off in the midday heat. Yet what stays with me most are those nights around the fire — stars scattered across the sky, lions calling in the distance, and that thrilling reminder that here, the wild still rules.Our days at Shumba were filled with adventure. What makes Shumba so special is how it blends seamlessly with its surroundings. The camp runs on hybrid and solar energy, water is carefully managed, and everything is designed with a light footprint. It feels indulgent without ever losing its sense of place — as if you are a privileged guest in the kingdom of lions. The moment you step onto Shumba’s wooden deck, with wilderness stretching out in every direction, you know you’ve arrived somewhere rare. A place where Africa still beats to its original rhythm, wild and untamed. On the second day I discovered that Shumba wasn’t just surrounded by lions—it was shared with them. A big lioness had stretched herself out on the wooden deck right before my tent, basking in the warmth of the early sun. She lay there as though the camp was hers alone, her golden coat blending with the light. I stood quietly, grateful to have had this experience. I surrendered and from the main Later, deck, sipped a good filter coffee watching colour returning to the stretched out plains. Below, red lechwe splashed through the shallows, crowned cranes lifted into the sky, and somewhere close by, that same lioness melted back into the grasses. At Shumba, you don’t just see wildlife—you live beside it.That’s the essence of Busanga: here the wilderness isn’t outside the camp, it is the camp. Raised walkways and thatched tents may be built for us, but the lions remind you—gently and firmly—that we are only visitors in their kingdom.
Who Owns this Paradise?This land belongs to Zambia, held in trust by the government through the Department of National Parks and Wildlife. Since 2022, African Parks has co-managed Kafue with the government, bringing conservation muscle and long-term vision.Shumba Camp, meanwhile, is operated by Wilderness Safaris under a concession agreement. They don’t own the land—they are guests here too, licensed to run this lodge in partnership with the park authorities. And perhaps that’s how it should be. The wilderness belongs to no single person, but to all of us who fight for its survival.
Why Kafue Matters? Kafue is not the easiest park to reach, nor the most famous. But that’s what makes it extraordinary. It’s authentic, untamed, and immense. When you stand on the deck at Shumba, watching lions appear from the dawn mist and lechwe scatter through floodwaters, you know you are witnessing Africa as it was meant to be—wild, fierce, and heartbreakingly beautiful. In places like Kafue, the wilderness still whispers its truth: reminds me of how insignificant we as human been is and how arrogant we have become.
Arrival on the Busanga Plains Flying in with Wilderness Air, the Busanga Plains opened up below me. The sun caught on silver threads of water, and herds of red lechwe broke the surface into copper splashes as we came in low. The phrase “wide open spaces” came to mind, but this was something far bigger. Something rare.
