I was driving slowly along the road when I spotted a tawny eagle flying low, almost hovering above a carcass. As I drew closer, I saw what had caught its attention – a dead honey badger (Nyegere in Swahili) lying by the roadside, evidently the victim of a speeding vehicle. It was a disheartening sight. I couldn’t help but wonder why people are in such a hurry, missing out on the beauty that surrounds them.
I stopped the car and got out, hoping for a better vantage point. Suddenly, a Maasai woman appeared out of nowhere, curious about my presence. Upon seeing the dead honey badger, she smiled and said she was glad it was dead.
She told me she disliked the animal, as it kills goats and raids beehives for sweet treats like honey — unfazed by angry, stinging bees.
She described the honey badger as a formidable predator — difficult to deter because of its strength and persistence. The one lying dead by the road was a male with a fairly long body, tough and covered in loose, impenetrable skin, making it nearly impossible to trap or be caught by dogs. She then told me about her duties as a Maasai woman and mentioned that it was time to return home to milk her beloved cow.
The honey badger is a solitary and primarily carnivorous animal. While it is known for eating honey, it is also a skilled hunter. Its fearlessness and determination mean it will do whatever it takes to secure a meal, no matter the risk. These animals have been known to stand their ground against lions, cobras, porcupines, and — on occasion — even elephants and buffalo when threatened.
Once again, I turned my attention to the birdlife. I observed a Pringle’s puffback, a northern white-eyed shrike and watched white-browed sparrow-weavers at work on an acacia tree — a true warrior of the savannah, resilient and enduring. A small group of birds had built large nests using sticks and grass, forming a little colony in the tree. They were chunky, weaver-like birds with bold white eyebrows and white rump and wing bars. The dominant males sang a mating call — a loud series of warbles from a perch in the nest tree. Others were foraging on the ground below. It was joy to witness such social interaction and hear the lively chatter, as they bounced energetically along the ground.
Soon, five Maasai adolescent boys with painted faces emerged from the bush. They had recently undergone circumcision, marking their transition into manhood, and were proud to pose with me. They seemed confident, dignified, and, with their red shukas, almost hapless at the sight of the dead honey badger. I told them the animal deserved to live, as it plays an important role in the ecosystem maintaining balance by killing venomous snakes such as cobras, black mambas, and pythons — creatures far more dangerous and lethal to both livestock and humans.
In the end, we agreed: the honey badger — one of the toughest animals in the bush — should be allowed to survive.
