In October I visited Rainforest Lodge Mabira with friends and made a note to self, to return and spend at least a night in one of their cabins tucked away inside the 306-square-kilometre Mabira forest.
Back then, we put the windows down once we branched off Jinja highway at Najjembe and inhaled the fresh air of damp tropical forest and shrubbery. Nothing beats that smell when one is used to Kampala’s chaos and sewerage mishaps.
At the lodge itself, the story was no different; towering trees making the cabins look so cool and intimate with nature. I just had to go back. Come Christmas day and the moment we were done with the church service, I hit the road with the family for our pre-booked adventure in the forest.
I could not wait to enjoy the fresh air starting at Najjembe, especially considering that the weeks running up to the festive season had been uncharacteristically hot all over the country. Christmas day in Kampala was a scorching affair.
So, once we branched off, I eagerly lowered the car windows again. Alas! A gust of hot air and cloud of dust swarmed inside the car and there, in the middle of a tropical rainforest, the car occupants begged for the air conditioner to come back on and to “please close the windows”.
I was worried about what lay ahead. This lodge run by Geolodges Uganda, is a marvel, allowing guests to be at one with nature while retaining a good dose of luxury too.
Once we had checked in, it did not take long to notice that the drought ravaging the rest of the country had not spared the rainforest, either. When I visited in October, one of the resort workers told me the rainforest truly works on its own clock and elements; so much so that it is not rare to find it raining heavily in one part of the forest, while the rest of it remains dry.
This time round, though, it was all dust and dry leaves in the rainforest, a cause for worry, especially when one retires to one’s wooden cabin and starts sweating even with the well-thought-out ventilation.
When we booked for Christmas, the ladies at the Geolodges office advised us to carry warm clothes as “it gets chilly in the night”.
Huh! We slept sans bed covers and if any monkeys peeped into the cabins through the big mesh windows, they also had interesting tales to tell their forest-mates about humans and their poor relationship with pyjamas.
Well, the heat and bad weather were nothing the resort could be blamed for. At least we had a great, peaceful time with lovely food and service. The heat could be mitigated with a dip in the swimming pool alternated by visits to the firewood-powered sauna.
All that was only ruined at one point by a big Indian family that refused to comprehend that people go to a forest to de-stress and seek peace and quiet, as opposed to partying all night. They shut down the tranquil forest with their singing and shouting in total disregard of other guests.
AND THAT TREE HYRAX…
Management had to intervene when, towards midnight, the other guests at the lodge decided they had had enough and needed to sleep. This family was worse than the tree hyrax!
Speaking of which, this tiny animal known as akayoga in Luganda, is the other reason you should probably go to Mabira. It is so loud that management warns intending guests in advance about it.
“There is the hyrax; I have to tell you about it now, because when people go there without knowing, they get so startled by the noise because it sounds like a woman is being strangled in the forest,” the lady at the Geolodges office in Kampala told me as she handed me my receipt.
An animal that screams like a woman being hurt in the middle of the night in a forest? I retained a brave face, but I was second-guessing my decision to spend the night in the forest.
But now, because of the tree hyrax, I am considering going back to Mabira to take a night forest walk, just to see this interesting creature. Kasozi, a forest guide, said they conduct night forest walks for $25 and patrons who do that have managed to see the elusive tree hyrax, said to be no bigger than a squirrel but with winged legs – kind of like a bat – that allow it to fly through the trees. It is a nocturnal animal that is blind during daylight and thus remains in hiding until nighttime falls.
As we sat down to Christmas dinner at around 8pm, the tree hyrax let out its first shriek.
First-timers in the forest at night like myself actually paused with forks mid-air. What was that?
Then it dawned on us; the hyrax! It starts on a low, bearable note, building up to a high screech that is truly eerie. I was scared to walk back to our cabins, in case it screeched in a tree above me. But once we were safely back to the cottages, the continuous hyrax call actually became a highlight of my stay. It had a strangely-soothing effect and was a different sound to fall asleep to…once our noisy friends went to sleep too.
FOREST TREASURES
On Boxing day as soon as we finished with breakfast, we went for a forest walk with Kasozi. I have done a four-hour forest walk in Kibaale forest reserve before and while I enjoyed that trek, it was so draining physically, because Kibaale is not only an extremely hilly forest, it is also rocky; I did much of my trek on all fours or on my butt.
Mabira is different. Depending on which trail you choose, it is a gently- sloping terrain for most parts, allowing for a more leisurely walk as the guide talks about this natural wonder, whose 7,000 hectares were almost bizarrely parcelled off by President Museveni to Sugar Corporation of Uganda (Scoul) for sugarcane growing!
Activists and public outrage that even cost some innocent people their lives saw government reconsider its decision, although there is still a high level of encroachment on the forest.
Kasozi, a retired forester with National Forestry Authority, was our guide for the day. His lithe form and energy do not betray any signs of him being close to 60 years. I guess that is what a lifetime with nature does.
He pointed out trees, some estimated to be hundreds of years old to us, noting: “They could be older; unlike the West where they can tell the actual age of a tree by counting the rings left by different seasons, here we estimate using the trunk size, height and other factors because the lack of four seasons means the trees have no rings.”
A haven to herbalists and birders, Kasozi showed me my first mahogany that was not a door or piece of furniture. Standing tall in the forest, this and other tree species are protected by government and locals are only allowed to fetch firewood but not cut down trees.
In fact, even the Rainforest Lodge that stands inside Mabira and is largely constructed from wooden materials, reportedly only cleared areas that had shrubbery and young trees for their cabins and other facilities. According to Kasozi, the wood for construction was sourced from other places.
Kasozi told of the forest’s ancient history when pygmies and elephants lived in it; the pygmies were made extinct by the plague. Elephants, whose one-time existence is proven by the presence of a fig tree (muyovu) that only germinates from seeds planted through elephant dung, were exterminated by humans guarding their gardens from the huge beasts.
“Even the tree hyrax is only found in forests inhabited by elephants. Because no one hunts the hyraxes, they are still here long after the elephants’ extinction,” Kasozi said.
He was now standing next to a tree whose trunk had evidence of years of chopping away pieces off its bark.
“This is called the mukuza nyana tree, medicine for all tribes of diseases, especially respiratory and stomach-related ones,” Kasozi said.
We eagerly stepped up to share tiny pieces of the fresh bark and chew like him. Immediately, two of my walk mates spat theirs out because its bitterness cannot be compared to anything else.
I chewed on, goading them about being such chicken. By the time we returned to the lodge, however, I could not feel my tongue and my throat felt shredded.
Note to self: boil the tree bark first, if there ever is a next time.
Kasozi showed us the pronus africana, or ntasesa in Luganda, said to be a wonder drug in treating cancer of the prostate, as well as for reproductive health issues.
The most interesting tree, however, was the macaranga (omweganza), a thoroughly anti-social tree that scatters its lower trunk and branches with close-knit menacing thorns, to ensure no one dares climb it. Beyond the human height, though, the tree trunk and branches are smoother than smooth.
According to Kasozi, for all omweganza’s anti-social characteristics, traditional healers who use it to make love portions and “cure unfortunate people of rejection” revere the tree.
Now, if you fear crawlies, the forest may not be your perfect escape, after all. For there, I saw a caterpillar that should really be called something else, because of its size.
I was blessed to find all reported 10 species of snakes away for Christmas, but Kasozi’s tales of what usually lurks in the green were enough to leave some of us shuddering.
He said while the snakes are harmless unless provoked, there is a spitting cobra said to accurately aim its lethal venom at an adversary’s eyes even from eight metres away. He said on a recent trek with three tourists, they found a python crossing their path and had to wait for it to slither away.
“But we had to time it and skip over its tail at the right time, because if you wait too long a python can have its tail in front of you while the rest of it arcs around to trap you in its circle before attacking,” he said.
Thankfully this he said as the lodge cabins came back into view. When we left for Kampala later that day, it was with sore mouths (thanks to that mukuza nyana), clear heads and dread for the Kampala pandemonium ahead…
carol@observer.ug