There’s a hush that settles over the bush in the early morning—the soft chorus of doves, the first light filtering through the last remaining Knobthorn leaves, and the distinct feeling that something new has arrived. It was during one such morning game drive that fresh tracks, large and deliberate, were found winding their way across a dusty road in the northern reaches of the reserve. The gait was confident, the stride purposeful. These weren’t the tracks of a leopard we knew.

In the days and weeks that followed, the mystery began to unfold.

The initial sighting of this young male, spotted by Kate and Equalizer.

Not so long ago, a new male leopard was seen in the deep south. We put word out among the rangers in the Sabi Sands Nature Reserve, and still his identity remained a mystery, deepening the intrigue. Here was a nomadic male leopard, completely relaxed in the presence of the vehicle, making it highly unlikely that he had come from the Kruger National Park; he had to be from an area where there were regular encounters with game drive vehicles and had become habituated to them.

Through the incredible network of communication between lodges and the work being done by Panthera’s big cat research, we spread the word further afield and eventually were able to confirm this young male was not entirely unknown. In fact, he had been seen in multiple reserves along his journey, and thanks to this shared knowledge, his identity came to light.

Born in December 2022 to the Sungula Female in the Thornybush Game Reserve, this young male has already covered over 75 kilometres of wild terrain, crossing from his natal home into the leopard-rich territories of the Sabi Sand Nature Reserve. Though still early in his independent life, he’s now arrived at Londolozi—another chapter in a young male leopard’s perilous and often nomadic story.

What’s particularly fascinating is that this leopard has already had more than one name attributed to him. He is believed to have been known first as the Ndhambi Male when he was just a year old, and then later referred to as the Siviti Male. This is slightly unusual—young males typically receive a name when they become fully independent, usually around two years of age. It’s at this point that they start to disperse, and their identity becomes more widely tracked.

For clarity, and because we know who his mother is, we’ll refer to him as the Sungula Young Male for now. Once there is more consensus and clarity on his name, we’ll be sure to update everyone.

The Nomadic Chapter

Independence for a young male leopard is not a clear-cut line in the sand, but rather a slow unravelling. It begins with subtle separations from the mother, short solitary missions that evolve into days, then weeks spent alone. Eventually, an innate drive pushes him to move further and further away from his natal range. It is nature’s way of ensuring genetic diversity and reducing competition with dominant males already holding established territories.

This new male, still wearing the lean build and light rosettes of youth, is now deep in this nomadic phase. At just over two and a half years old, his life has shifted from maternal dependency to instinct-driven solitude. And with solitude comes uncertainty. Nomadic males roam vast distances, often moving under the cover of darkness, weaving their way through the territories of dominant males, always one step away from conflict. It’s a life of careful navigation—of seeking, learning, and surviving.

But it is also a time of immense growth. Every scent-marked tree, every distant call, every shadowed thicket teaches him more about the world he’s entered. For now, he avoids confrontation, slips past dominant males, and explores margins and frontiers. But eventually, he’ll grow stronger, more confident, and begin to carve out a space of his own. Will he remain on Londolozi, or is he continuing his nomadic journey and seeking territorial sanctuary elsewhere?

Seeking Territory: What Males Look For

As a nomadic male matures and strengthens, he will begin to assess the landscape for a potential territory of his own. This is not a random process. He will seek out areas that provide key essentials: abundant prey, reliable water sources, and suitable cover for hunting and resting. Equally important is the absence or weakening of another dominant male.

A gap in the territorial map, or signs that an older male is beginning to decline, could provide the young nomad with an opening. Establishing a territory involves more than just occupying space—it requires the male to patrol, scent-mark, and vocalise regularly. He must make his presence known and be prepared to defend it.

The Sungula Connection

His lineage adds another thread to this unfolding story. The Sungula Female, his mother, is well-known in the Thornybush area. Her instincts and resilience have no doubt shaped this young male, equipping him with the skills he’ll need in these critical first years.

Although still too young to claim a territory of his own, his dispersal is right on schedule. Most young males leave their maternal ranges between 18 and 24 months. Where they go—and whether they survive—depends on a combination of strength, stealth, and luck. The fact that he has reached the Sabi Sand, moving through territories with a high density of dominant males, speaks to his determination and adaptability.

Signs and Shadows

We’ve only had a handful of sightings so far. The first, brief and fleeting, was a silhouette slipping through the grass at twilight. Another came in the form of a low rasp heard near the Tugwaan riverbed—tentative, yet unmistakably leopard. And then a clear visual: the young male resting atop a grass-covered termite mound, golden eyes alert, coat gleaming in the morning light. He stayed just long enough to etch himself into memory before melting back into the bush.

What lies ahead for this young male is uncertain. He may remain in the area for a few weeks or months, eventually pushed further by dominant males like the Flat Rock or Maxim’s males. Or he may find a temporary refuge in a less contested section of the reserve. Regardless, his journey has now become part of ours—another story unfolding in the great, dynamic tapestry of Londolozi’s wilderness.

Final Thoughts

The arrival of this young male is a poignant reminder of the fluidity of wild spaces. Though borders exist on maps, the animals move freely, guided by instinct and necessity rather than lines and fences. Londolozi is not only a home, but a crossroads—a place where paths converge, stories begin, and futures are shaped.

We will watch with interest and quiet hope as this young male continues to explore the wild margins of independence. For now, he remains a visitor, a whisper of potential, padding softly through the thickets and into the unknown.