For centuries, indigenous communities such as the Tsonga (Shangaan) and Mapulana have lived in harmony with the land that is now Kruger National Park. Their deep-rooted connection to nature was woven into their daily lives through traditional hunting, farming, and spiritual practices.
In our pursuit to uncover the legacy of these self-taught safari legends, we visited one of the region’s most revered retired guides—fondly known as ‘Dixon.’ Living in a village near the northern reaches of Sabi Sands Nature Reserve, Dixon has spent a lifetime immersed in the wilderness, honing his tracking skills and passing down his wisdom to aspiring guides and trackers.
We were welcomed warmly into his home and sat under the shade of an old tree, sharing stories over countless cups of water. His journey is nothing short of remarkable—without formal training, he relied on keen observational skills, deep intuition, and a natural gift for hospitality to carve out a name for himself in the Greater Kruger safari circuit. Through years of dedication, he transformed his passion into a lifelong career, earning respect as one of the region’s finest guides.
As he eloquently spoke, his words painted vivid pictures of a time when tracking was an art passed down through experience rather than certification. He recalled how he earned opportunities by impressing rangers and visitors alike, using his knowledge of the bush to create unforgettable safari experiences.
His story is a testament to the resilience and ingenuity of many local guides who have shaped Kruger’s tourism landscape. Though formal training has become the norm today, the legacy of self-taught Guides like Dixon continue to inspire a new generation of conservationists and safari professionals.
By honouring these pioneers, we recognise that the Greater Kruger experience is not just about wildlife—it’s also about the local people who have dedicated their lives to interpreting its secrets, ensuring that future generations can appreciate the land as they have for centuries.
“I learned to track animals as a child, herding cattle in the village. We would study the footprints left in the sand, following them to understand which direction the animals had gone. This was not a hobby—it was survival. We had to protect our livestock from predators, just as young boys in other African villages did. The ability to track was a necessity, passed down from our elders, never considered a talent but rather an expected skill.”
“Originally, tracking was about protecting livestock from predators. Today, it has become an essential part of the safari experience, blending traditional knowledge with modern conservation efforts. However, despite advancements in technology, the foundation remains the same—an intimate understanding of the land honed by years of experience.”
“To be a great tracker, you must have an real love for the bush. It’s not just about following footprints; it’s about reading the environment, feeling the changes in the wind, listening to the subtle shifts in bird calls. A tracker learns this from the elders, trains extensively, and understands that conservation is at the heart of it all.”
“Some animals are far more challenging to track than others. Leopards are among the most challenging! They move silently, blending into the shadows. They walk along rocky terrain, where their footprints disappear. Despite their size, elephants can also be tricky, especially when they move through thick vegetation. A skilled tracker must be able to read the smallest signs—disturbed leaves, faint imprints, even the reaction of other animals to their presence. But tracking isn’t just about following animals—it can also save lives. These final tuned skills can also prevent danger such as detecting a lion nearby of guiding lost travellers back to safety”.
While GPS devices and camera traps have changed how researchers monitor wildlife, traditional tracking remains unmatched in its depth of knowledge. Technology can tell you where an animal wasbut only a tracker can tell you where it will be!
“Before, we tracked to survive—to protect cattle, hunt, and coexist with the wild. But when tourists arrived, tracking became more about storytelling. We were no longer just following animals; we were interpreting their movements, explaining their behaviour, bringing people closer to the magic of the bush.”
“It has brought awareness and funding to an economically challenged region of the countrybut has also created a few challenges. Conservation efforts must benefit the people as much as the animals; otherwise, resentment builds, and conflicts arise.”
Kruger’s expansion over the years has profoundly impacted local communities. While conservation efforts have been prioritised, many families have been displaced. This has led to long-standing conflicts over land, resources, and access to traditional hunting grounds.
“Wildlife does not recognise fences. Cattle roam, predators follow, and villagers struggle to protect their livelihood. When an elephant destroys a field of crops or a lion kills a cow, the loss is deeply personal. This is why conflicts exist between the park and the people who live around it.
“Our people have always been connected to wildlife. Our ancestral stories, our spiritual practices, our very identity—they all include animals. The presence of wildlife is not just important; it is essential to who we are. We cannot lose this connection.”
“We do not just track animals; we tell the stories of our ancestors. Every game drive is a lesson in history, culture, and identity. Our traditions live through the stories we share with visitors.”
Modern conservation and guiding may rely on education but are deeply rooted in Indigenouswisdom. Tracking itself is a traditional practice. It has been modernised into what we now call ‘safari guiding.’ But at its core, it remains the same—an understanding of nature that must be protected for future generations. Nature is our home. If we lose it, we lose ourselves.”
Dixon’s story is one of resilience, wisdom, and dedication. The art of tracking, and becoming a Guide is more than just a skill—it is a legacy passed down through generations and one of upskilling, educating yourself and earning your stripes. As we move forward in conservation, it is crucial that we not only protect the wildlife but also honour and uplift the communities that have lived alongside them for centuries.
Some legacies are written in history books, and others—like that of Dixon Mkansi—are woven into the very fabric of the communities they touch. Together with Thornybush Community, we are honoured to support the continuation of his impact through the launch of Magoveni Bee-Hive, a venture buzzing with purpose. Founded by Dixon and his son, Clifford Mkansi, Magoveni Bee-Hive is more than just a business, it’s a shared dream built on hard work, tradition, and the pursuit of excellence. Clifford, who is currently pursuing his LLB at the University of Witwatersrand, carries forward his father’s deep-rooted passion for sustainability, ensuring that their bee-farming enterprise thrives with ethical, organic practices at its core.
With seed funding provided to the father-son duo, Magoveni Bee-Hive has made great strides in producing high-quality, raw organic honey. This golden nectar is more than just honey—it’s a symbol of community and dedicated craftsmanship, cultivated with care and destined to grace the breakfast tables of Thornybush lodges and local communities, where people can savour its pure, natural flavours.
The journey has only begun for Dixon and Clifford, and we can’t wait for the next harvest of Magoveni Bee-Hive honey!
To get involved with Dixon’s new journey, contact Busisiwe Chauke (GM at Thornybush Community)
Email: busisiwe@thornybush.com
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