The Battle of the Baboon verses the Little Girl.

29 10 2012

I wish I could tell you her name. She lives south of Serge, Tanzania on a hilly stretch of road that is weary to drive. At least on my plastic motor cycle. I try to pull over about once every hundred kilometers and stretch and drink water.

On one such break last week, I noticed a small hut about 200 meters away far below me off the road. Obviously the people that lived there were at the bottom of the economic scale even for Africa. I could see two little girls playing in and around a little tree. There was a primitive fence but no animals in it next to the house. I was distracted by a group of young boys walking my way out of no where obviously wanting to engage and talk to a Mzungu. (White guy) About the time we started to talk screaming and yelling erupted from the little hut. At first I glanced over and only noticed that the little girls were no longer playing in the yard. But the screaming persisted. About the time I was about to resume my conversation with the boys thinking the kids were playing inside, things got interesting.

I took one more glance and could not believe my eyes. A huge Baboon came running out of the house with an ear of corn. Oh no, I thought, he had injured the little girls and perhaps attacked them over the corn. No worries. He was running for his life. The littlest girl was hard after him. She ran and yelled at him the same words over and over. I could not make them out but the Baboon would run about 30 meters and stop and turn to face the girl and take a swipe at shucking the corn. But the little girl never stopped charging. Perhaps the Baboon was trouble for the family food supplies and this little girl had enough. The Baboon could get no peace to deal with the corn as the little girl no more than 6 years old and barely 3′ tall, she probably weighed, 40lbs, was constantly bearing down on he, she, or it. The Baboon was obviously full grown and that means his torso is as big as mine. He looks like a grown man sitting on the ground. Only his canine like face, fangs and short legs give him away as a Baboon.

She must have run him for a quarter of a mile through the bush. Fearlessly defending her home against this invader. Finally they were so deep in the bush that I could no longer hear her voice nor see the Baboon. The entertainment was over for me. I could not help but think I would not want to mess with her when she grew up. But if I was ever in trouble she just might be an able ally. I don’t know who won the battle. But I know one thing. If persistence was to win the day, the Baboon did not have a chance.

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