By Adam Hedges Unveiling The Source: A Journey to the origin of the Okavango

A Michelin map of Africa adorned my father’s office wall in Kenya, 42 years ago. I remember being mesmerized by the faint traces of blue against the sea of yellow, depicting the hydrological miracle that is the Okavango Delta. This fascination led me here, to a life filled with adventure and happiness in this wonderous place I get to call home, yet, until recently its origin remained a mystery. The “Angolan highlands” were, in my mind, like Tolkien’s enchanted forests, shrouded in mist and inaccessible to ordinary hobbits.

Then, the National Geographic Okavango Wilderness Project invited me to fly them to the Okavango’s source lakes in Angola. This country had always seemed off-limits to me, but this, my first exploration of this enigmatic place would change that. Our 1979 Cessna 210, affectionately known as “Six Alpha,” had recently returned from an eight-month hiatus due to Covid disruptions. The new engine was finally installed, and we took off for Angola (fully loaded for this expedition) on a crisp and clear morning. It felt good to be flying Six Alpha again, embarking on a new adventure.

After a long day flying and border crossings in remote places, we landed in Tempue, Angola shortly before sunset, having filled up with Avgas in Namibia.  We were introduced to the village, and shown to our accommodation in the main research camp. The following morning while Kai was hard at work mapping the forest, I explored my surroundings, meeting the wonderful people of Tempue. Social workers teaching the local villagers health care, sustainable farming, and beekeeping (among other topics), mechanics and builders busy constructing the project base camp for community development work, and of course the researchers, studying the forest and the peat beds that filter the water in these critically important source lakes.

I learned that the runway I had landed on had only just been refurbished after lying dormant since the civil war, and at the southernmost boundary of the village, beyond the old administrative offices, red painted skull and cross bone signs served as grim reminders of landmines lurking in the vicinity.

On our final day, a group of researchers joined us on a two-hour drive up to one of the nineteen source lakes that feed the Kavango River along a heavily rutted sandy track. The entire region, 50,000 square miles in size, is a vital water source not only for the Okavango to the south, but also for the Cassai River, which flows north into the DRC and joins the Congo River, and the Zambezi River to the east. If the Congo rainforest is Africa’s “lungs,” this must be its “kidneys!” The water in the small lake was so crystalline clear that I could discern the white sandy bottom several meters below.

The morning of departure dawned with mist covering the river, a sign that winter had arrived in this remote corner of Africa. After a thorough pre-flight, we were on our way to Ondjiva. We stayed at the Aguila Verde, or Green Eagle Hotel. The beer was cold, and while the steak was tough as boot leather, given the circumstances, the rooms were satisfactory.

The following day, we still had to wait for clearance to land in Ondangwa, Namibia, but we were soon on our way. It was a huge relief to have the main tanks full of Avgas 20 minutes after we landed, and a further three-hour, rather bumpy flight eventually brought us back home to Maun.

Angola is impoverished after 27 years of war. Tempue has a population of around 1200 people. There is no running water, no electricity, no bus service, no cars, no internet, and only a basic health clinic and two small shops. The people survive by farming or hunting. There aren’t many wild animals or birds. There are few domestically farmed animals. I was surprised at how few insects and birds I heard. Nonetheless, this location is at the heart of Southern Africa’s most important watershed. What happens here in the next ten years is critical to the survival of the Okavango, and possibly the Cassai and Zambezi rivers as well.

What the National Geographic Okavango Wilderness Project is doing is crucial in terms of creating sustainable livelihoods and preventing irreversible changes to the flow of three rivers that support the lives of countless animals, birds, and people downstream.

In conclusion, our journey to the heart of Africa revealed an awe inspiring tapestry of breathtakingly beautiful landscapes and critical conservation efforts. The Okavango Delta, a source of livelihood and wonder for many, is a testament to our natural world’s limitless beauty and ecological significance.

As we look ahead, we need to keep in mind that our actions today will echo through the rivers, forests, and communities that rely on this remarkable ecosystem.