In Conversation with Angus Sholto-Douglas from Kwandwe Private Game Reserve

‘First up we had to remove all signs of organised agriculture on the land,’ the jovial South African tells me. In an area the size of a city, that was no mean feat. Think about all the manmade things that make up a farm – the fences, buildings, signage, vehicles and more – and then think about removing every trace of them so that the natural custodians of the land can do their thing. As for those natural custodians, that was another mission.

‘There were some primates and antelope but everything else we had to bring in.’ Angus and the team began to do that in the latter part of 2000, transporting big game across the country to their new home. If you think that sounds like a bit of a process, you’d be right – sort of. ‘It is a process but it’s actually something we’re really good at in South Africa,’ Angus says, ‘at that time we could get a complete group of 9 elephants from the ground into the truck in 2 hours.’ Then, they bussed them across the country for a day in a truck that ‘looked a lot like a furniture removals van,’ Angus says with a chuckle.

To keep the animals calm, they would be sedated; not so much that they wouldn’t stand, but so they would remain calm on their cross-country odyssey. ‘It was an incredibly sensitive process, one that has the animal’s welfare at its heart. It did make refuelling interesting though, as the lack of movement would produce a few rumbles from the herd.’ Once at Kwandwe, the animals would be released into an enclosure, allowed to acclimatise to their new surroundings, before heading off into the wild.

That’s the reason the reserve didn’t open its doors to the public until 2001. The timing, though, was far from ideal. ‘We opened a few days before 9/11, which made things very tricky at the start,’ Angus tells me. They weathered the storm, beginning life as a 2-lodge reserve with Great Fish River Lodge and Uplands Homestead on the books. Uplands in particular is an interesting place, a historic farmstead in the corner of the property that has been sold by Kwandwe as a sole-use villa for its entire existence: ‘I can always tell when it’s going well when guests come to dinner in their pyjamas,’ Angus says with a wide grin.

Over the years – and with a change of ownership in 2012 – Kwandwe has grown. ‘Not organically, really, but as and when stuff came on the market.’ From 25,000 at the start, the plot has tripled in size to 75,000 acres of pristine wilderness. Despite its size, at capacity the reserve has the ability to accommodate 52 guests across a handful of lodges and villas on the entire property, a remarkable fact and testament to the team’s commitment to the animals. ‘The animals were here first, so it’s only right that they’re the priority.’ It’s true, too, as Angus points to a number of 18^th century sources that document in pretty fine detail the abundance of wildlife that existed in Kwandwe. ‘The reason it’s so well documented is because this was a hunting area,’ he explains, ‘with ivory being shipped from here to all corners of the globe.’

There were rhinos back then, too. The meticulousness of the record-keeping documents exactly how many of these magnificent beasts were shot and killed and it fell to Angus and the team to re-establish a population ravaged by hunting and poaching. ‘We brought in 3 white rhinos at the start, I can still remember the nerves and the adrenaline. Then we got braver and brought in a black rhino from one of the most poached game reserves in the country.’ Kwandwe, though, are now sitting on a healthy population of rhinos, monitored and overseen around the clock by a dedicated team. ‘Moving these animals around the country is actually very important for their conservation,’ Angus says, ‘so that heavily poached areas can be relieved.’ And with African budgets so squeezed, it’s largely down to private sector outfits like Kwandwe to make that happen.

For those lucky enough to visit the reserve, you’ll notice conservation at the forefront of all operations. ‘People obviously gain a greater understanding of the natural world through any sort of stay they have with us,’ explains Angus, ‘but we also give people the opportunity to rehabilitate the landscape by planting carbon-storing bushes called Spekboom, as well as, when possible, getting them involved in rhino conservation.’ Guests can shadow monitoring teams, see how thermal drones work, observe and track behaviour. ‘The ultimate is to get involved in a rhino-darting experience, when an animal has to be tranquilised for some reason. We only allow guests to join in when intervention is a must, though, we would never engineer an experience.’ That may be for an AI-collar to be fitted, a remarkable piece of tech that learns the individual’s behaviour, sets its own parameters, and alerts the team if the animal deviates from them. It might also be to sift through their dung: ‘s**t tells a story.’

It’s perfectly clear that Kwandwe is a professional, purpose-driven outfit. Away from the animals, the team established the Ubunye Foundation in 2002, an acorn that has since grown into a mighty oak. ‘It’s become an independent non-profit organisation that helps nearly 5,000 people across the area,’ Angus proudly explains, ‘and we provide it with a quarter of its budget. The rest comes from corporate South Africa and it funds mainly healthcare, early development and economic empowerment.’ The foundation clearly means a lot to Angus: he’s still involved with it and his wife is a trustee. In fact, on the day we chat, Ubunye are meeting King Charles as part of a royal programme.