Malawi's man-eaters meet their match
by Ed Stoddard and Shafiek Tassiem
THE ELEPHANT MARSH, Malawi, (Reuters) - Khalid Hassen
slows his boat and glides toward his quarry, a headlamp his only guide
through the African night.
Khalid Hassen, (R), whose energy and agility belie his 69 years,
looks for crocodiles into the fly-infested wetland in southern
Malawi known as the Elephant Marsh in this undated photo. REUTERS |
Suddenly his target is caught in the glare: a four-metre
(13 foot) brute of a crocodile crouching in the mud.
With split-second timing, Hassen shoulders his rifle and
a red flash bursts from the barrel.
It is a perfect shot to the head, laying to rest a
potentially lethal menace to local villagers terrorised by crocodiles.
"That's a good one," said Hassen, whose energy and
agility belie his 69 years, as he and his assistant began the task of
loading the 400 kg (1,000 lb) croc onto the boat - which at five metres
is not much longer than the dead animal.
It's all in a night's work for Hassen, a real-life
reptile stalker who makes the Australian movie character "Crocodile
Dundee" look like a boy scout.
Malawi's man-eaters have met their match in Hassen who
has bagged more than 17,000 in the past four decades.
For poor local people in growing conflict with
crocodiles, his nocturnal hunting forays into the fly-infested wetland
in southern Malawi known as the Elephant Marsh are most welcome.
Malawi, with its tropical climate, fish-rich waters and
abundant game is crocodile heaven.
The result can be hell for humans as the animals'
regular sources of protein come under growing pressure.
Local villagers remove crocodile skins, which are salted and
preserved and the meat smoked to be eaten or to be sold at nearby
markets after a night hunt by Khalid Hassen in the fly-infested
wetland in southern Malawi known as the Elephant Marsh in this
undated photo. REUTERS |
Rising numbers of rural dwellers also present tempting
opportunities for old crocodiles, which like all animals tend to get
lazy with age and prefer to seek easy prey. Stanford Chitsulo, a
26-year-old fisherman from just across the Ruo river in neighbouring
Mozambique, was viewed as such. He lost his left leg but not his life.
Chitsulo had gone for a morning bath when the animal
struck - a frequent occurrence in Malawi and Mozambique, where poor
villagers are forced to go to rivers to bathe or wash clothes because
they have no running water.
At the same hospital where Chitsulo sat listlessly in
his wheelchair, two other young men hobbled on crutches, also victims of
savaging by crocodiles.
Hassen's arrival in the area spread swiftly through the
"bush telegraph" and Lettuce Chandilembe, a local fisheries officer
asked him to shoot a killer croc which had taken an 11-year-old girl
just days before.
Attacks increase early in the year when female
crocodiles, who are have been guarding their nests, are famished.
Crocodiles killed 18 people in the area last year,
Chandilembe said.
Hassen has heard it all before.
He was once called in to hunt a croc that had eaten a
young boy.
He shot a large one and when it was cut open, the
child's head was found inside.
Hassen, like many hunters, considers himself a
conservationist. In his long career he has not shot during the nesting
season and only takes animals that are over five feet long.
"You can't kill off your source," he says.
Dead crocodiles are pulled out from a boat after being hunted by
Khalid Hassen, bagged 11 crocodiles — a good night’s hunt into the
fly-infested wetland in southern Malawi known as the Elephant Marsh
in this undated photo. REUTERS |
Now a successful Blantyre businessman with interests in
construction, Hassen says he can get about $200 a skin although he no
longer needs the money.
He now has a permit for only 25 crocodiles a year. Under
the Convention on International Trade in Endangered Species (CITES),
Malawi's annual export quota of the reptile's skins is capped at 200.
"They are not letting us remove enough of the animals,"
Hassan said - adding that poor villagers are suffering the consequences.
On this particular night, Hassen wraps up well after
midnight after bagging 11 crocodiles - a good night's hunt.
The next morning local villagers busily remove the
skins, which are salted and preserved for a German buyer. They also
smoke the meat to eat and sell at nearby markets.
"They have a saying here," Hassen said as chunks of
crocodile meat sizzled over an open fire. "The crocs eat the people, so
the people eat the crocs." |