modjaji - her legacy lives on...
Modjaji was born in Limpopo, South Africa in 1988. Named after the legendary African Rain Queen, Mojadji, she was special in her own right. In her little brother Tswale’s story, their journey is documented from rescue to being trained for educational human interactions. Their handler, Amos Jivendava lived beside Modjaji and Tswale for almost 2 decades, and this is how he remembers Modjaji…
AMOS – (As told to LM)
Amos is not a tall man, but as we spoke about Modjaji under the blue African sky, with Tswale splashing happily in the dam he has claimed as his own, I realized that Amos is a giant in stature. This is what he shared with me…
‘Growing up, we had always heard stories of elephants – especially from my grandmother. Later, I realized that some of the legends weren’t entirely true,’ he confesses with a laugh. “That took nothing away from the legends though and they had cultivated a deep love of elephants within me from a young age. Then, in 2004 I volunteered at an elephant training center for 3 months. Those 3 months changed the course of my life.
I loved working with the elephants from the beginning, but I soon fell in love with one elephant in particular. Her name was Modjaji. It quickly became evident to everyone that Modjaji and I shared a deep connection, and inevitably, she and her little brother, Tswale, stole my heart. Modjaji was always fiercely protective of Tswale, and she would also correct his naughty behavior when needed. Soon, my intial 3 months was up, and I was offered a permanent position,’ he explains. ‘But, the highest praise was that Modjaji had given me her trust, and that was something very precious’.
PLEASE NOTE: The images on this website showing elephant back riding are archival photos from Tswale and Modjaji’s previous life at KwaMadwala Game Reserve. In his new life at LowHills, Tswale has not, nor will he EVER be ridden by ANYONE. We do not condone this practice, and do not offer elephant back safaris.
‘Over the next 2 years at the training center, we learned together – the elephants learned how to interact with people, and I was trained and educated with the skills and knowledge of not just the complexities of elephants, their needs, care and behavior, but also of the vast bush they live in, and how all these aspects of the African bush could impact the elephants.
The elephant training model used at the center was ‘ask and reward’. The system makes learning fun for everyone, and creates an atmosphere where elephants are not exposed to cruelty and fear, but are rewarded for performing tasks. I can say,
Modjaji was one of the most intelligent elephants I have ever met. In addition to that, she had an extraordinary gift for reading people and interacting with them. She was may favorite,’ he says with a shy smile, and a quick glance in Tswale’s direction, to make sure the admission didn’t hurt his feelings.
“We once had a guest who was being treated for cancer,’ Amos recalls. “It was the most amazing thing to see – every morning when our guest came to meet Modjaji, it was as if Modjaji was scanning her body, to see if she was okay! Our guest later shared that she felt certain Modjaji’s love and energy had boosted her healing.”
‘Modjaji, Tswale and I, lived at KwaMadwala Reserve for 16 years. In that time, Modjaji and I shared her role as Tswale’s protector and he eventually respected me as an authority figure too – which is crucial, because it makes it possible for an elephant handler to keep his elephants safe from potentially reckless behaviour. Modjaji had chosen me in those early months and they became my family.’ He says softly.
Amos draws a deep breath before continuing, with Tswale happily conducting a dust bath as we talk – ‘In August 2022, tragedy came.’ Amos casts a furtive glance at Tswale, as if wanting to spare him the pain of hearing the story again. ‘3 Nomadic rogue elephant bulls from Mozambique landed up at KwaMadwala. A horrific attack ensued, and Modjaji, in her self-appointed role as protector, positioned herself in a way that led to her bearing the worst of the onslaught. She and Tswale were both injured badly, and that night I kept the 3 aggressors at bay by standing between them and ‘my elephants’, and making a loud noise with my pots and pans. It was a terrible night! I was frantic over the injuries Modjaji and Tswale had already sustained and terrified about what would happen if the rogue bulls managed to engage in further contact.’ Amos’s words are quiet and sad on the African breeze as he recounts the ordeal – the pain and sorrow clearly still fresh.
‘The next day, Modjaji had limited mobility, but I just remember her circling me, as if to comfort me in my distress, and I just felt so utterly helpless! She was euthenized as a result of her injuries, and you know what, I feel like I failed her.’
The admission spills out of a place that is still broken in his heart, and Amos lovingly places his hand on Tswale’s outstretched trunk. The notion that Amos failed Modjaji is inconceivable – without his intervention that night, the attack would likely have been even more vicious. But love and loss are a powerful combination, and when a loved one is taken too soon, self-blame all too often finds fertile ground in a broken heart.
We stop talking for a bit – the moment as heavy as Amos’s revelation. Tswale happily scoops up the pellets Amos gives him, and the deep bonds of love and trust between man and elephant are tangible. This is a love forged in the fires of adversity and sacrifice. I ask Amos how he and Tswale came to be at Lowhills.
‘Tswale just decided to leave KwaMadwala. I think he understood the mortal danger that staying would put us in, and I couldn’t just let him leave alone. I had no control over the situation – I had to stay with him to try and keep him safe. At that point, I couldn’t do anything immediately for Modjaji, and though it broke my heart, I had to walk away with Tswale, to keep track of where he went and to protect him as best I could. I didn’t know where we would land up, or what dangers lay ahead, but I couldn’t abandon him,’ he declares with conviction.
Hearing his heartfelt, raw account, I watch Tswale with tears streaming down my face. I reach into my backpack and pull out a tissue, and let out a surprised laugh as Tswale reaches out his trunk to investigate what I have in my hand.
In that moment, I realize several things – Tswale misses nothing. I have no doubt that he knows what Amos has been sharing with me, and recognizes the name of his beloved Modjaji – this huge loss is his too. But this massive elephant who has lived up to the predictions of him growing into the size of a mountain, has the sweetest, gentlest heart, and he is choosing to live in honor of Modjaji. He has refused to be a victim, and has chosen to make a new home with his human, at Lowhills.
Amos smiles at Tswale’s antics and there is no doubt in my mind that he didn’t fail Modjaji. Just as he did all those years ago when she first chose him, he has honored her trust, and continues to do all he can to keep Tswale safe, loved and happy.
This beautiful, tragic story is unfinished, and collectively, we have the opportunity to make sure that it has a happy ending – in honor of these two survivors, and in memory of the beautiful Modjaji, who was willing to protect Tswale and Amos at all costs.
Find out how you can help, here.