The Elephant That Came For Lunch

There are many challenges when building a safari bush camp in the heart of Kafue National Park: logistics, weather and the wildlife. There are days that remind you, very clearly, that we are guests in their home. Time may wait for no man, but work will wait for elephants!

Saturday, the 1st of November 2025, delivered one of those moments we will be talking about for years to come at MAWIMBI: the day the elephant came for lunch.

Our regal lunch visitor 1st November 2025

This is where our lunch visitor started

Elephant browsing by the Guest WC

It was around 1pm on a very hot, dry day. Temperatures had been reaching 39 degrees and my computer fan couldn't keep up. The sun sat high in a cloudless sky, baking the dusty ground and slowing the pace of work across camp.

Construction had been progressing steadily that morning, and the constant whine of the wood saw continued. By lunchtime the team was ready for a well-earned break.

An elephant who'd been eating trees near the new Guest WC, calm and unhurried, drawn not by curiosity but by appetite strolled into the middle of our camp. A simple table had been set beneath a shady tree—our temporary “dining room” during the build phase. Plates had been laid out, glasses set up, cold water on the ready, and our chef Pearson was about to bring out his delicious food from the newly built kitchen.

Then everything stopped...

Erik, Malapa designer, watching the elephant

I retreated to a safe distance as our lunchtime visitor curiously came towards me!

The tree above our lunch table happened to be one of its favourites. There was no hesitation, no uncertainty. The elephant approached with quiet confidence, as if it had an appointment—and we were merely inconveniences standing in the way of a good meal.

Our bull's favourite luncheon tree

We all moved away, slowly and respectfully and tools were laid down. We picked up our phones and from various vantage points got the most wonderful shots of our regal visitor. Work was officially suspended, not by management, but by the largest site supervisor imaginable!

The elephant reached the tree and began feeding, stripping branches with effortless strength and trunk dexterity. Leaves disappeared into its mouth as it stood exactly where our lunch was meant to happen. The table beneath the tree suddenly seemed like a comical afterthought, a human plan completely overruled by nature. We simply had to wait, our tummies rumbling with hunger whilst our elephant rumbled with delight at his snack. Not a glass was broken nor the tablecloth disturbed!

In the midst of all this, a lovely self-drive Argentinian couple had come to see what MAWIMBI Bush Camp was all about and if they could lodge with us overnight. I strolled over to their 4x4 leaving our elephant to his lunch under the watchful eyes of our enthralled team. Unfortunately we were in the middle of the build phase and not yet open to guests, but I managed to find them accommodation with a nearby camp.

As we stood at a safe distance by their car, chatting, the bush reminded us that it never operates in isolation. What happened next unfolded quickly and dramatically, as if the day had decided one wildlife encounter simply wasn’t enough.

Just across the wetland (less than 500 metres away from camp) a lioness made her move.

Hidden in the grass, she targeted a puku, timing her approach with precision. For a brief moment, the bush held its breath. Then the chase erupted. Dust flew as the puku bolted, legs pumping, survival instincts fully engaged. The lioness tried—but missed - not surprising as apparently the stats for a lioness hunting alone and in the daytime comes with a 75-80% failure rate.

Triggered by the lioness' attempts on one of the herd, the fleeing puku took off through the bush, and its sudden movement triggered a chain reaction. Birds took flight from the water's edge, warthogs popped their tails in the air and ran off to a safe distance.

 Our Argentinian visitors were about to drive off but the puku ran between the dambo (wetland) and the camp, closely followed by the herd of elephant - ground vibrating beneath their feet, trunks raised, ears flapping.

Video of the elephants on the run following a failed lioness hunting attempt

From where we stood, it was a breathtaking sight. The same animals that moments earlier had been feeding peacefully now moved with urgency and power, a reminder of how quickly the bush can change. And just like that, the moment passed... The lioness disappeared back into the grass, the puku had escaped, and the elephants settled, their alarm fading as quickly as it had begun. Our lunchtime visitor brought up the rear, strolling by, leaving behind a few broken branches and a story far more satisfying than the meal we eventually ate.

Saturday 1st November reminded us that there is truly never a dull moment out here. One minute you are planning lunch, the next you are watching an elephant enjoy its favourite tree, followed by a front-row seat to a predator-prey drama that sends an entire herd running.

Days like this perfectly capture what it means to build a safari camp in the middle of Kafue National Park. Progress is measured not only in structures and timelines, but in patience and respect. Nature does not pause for construction schedules. Instead, it invites you to slow down, pay attention, and accept that you are the guest in their home.

These are the special moments that are shaping MAWIMBI, long before our first guests arrive - they become part of our story, woven into the foundations of our lapa, alongside the canvas of our elegant Malapa-built tents and beautiful timber tabletops.

When you walk beneath the shade of the elephant's favourite tree by the studio, you will know that once upon a time, an elephant came to lunch here!

This is MAWIMBI where plans are flexible, the food is delicious, and every day comes with the potential for the extraordinary. Please come and join us (and the ellies) for lunch!