I thought I’d put together a bit of an update on the Ndzanzeni Female, as she’s been on my mind more and more lately.
With the reserve drying out again after the heavy February floods, we’ve finally been able to start pushing back into the Deep South, venturing onto roads that, for a while, were simply out of reach. And with that, renewed access has come a familiar question that seems to resurface every so often:
Where is the Ndzanzeni Female?
For those of you who have followed her story over the years, you’ll know that she has never been the easiest leopard to find. She moves through some of the thickest, most difficult terrain in the south, and it’s not unusual to go for extended periods without so much as a track or distant alarm call to hint at her presence.
But for those lucky enough to have spent time with her, you’ll also know just how special she is. She’s one of those leopards that feels like a real privilege to encounter—never taken for granted, always a gift. And for me personally, she remains my favourite leopard of the Deep South.
Every time I head down there, there’s always that quiet sense of anticipation…
Maybe today’s the day.
Maybe I’ll round a corner and find her walking down the road—that familiar, slightly uneven gait from her old injury still visible, a reminder of the incredible resilience she showed in making such a recovery. It’s something that has always made her stand out.
But despite a fair number of drives through her territory recently, we’ve had no luck.
No sightings.
No tracks.
Not even the faintest sign.
And so, naturally, it leads to a bit of wondering.
What’s going on in her world at the moment?
Could she be denning somewhere deep within that thick vegetation, or around boulders close to the Sand River, raising another litter out of sight? It wouldn’t be the first time she’s disappeared like this, only to re-emerge weeks—or even months—later with cubs in tow.
Or perhaps there’s been some pressure from surrounding females. With individuals like the Tinxiya Female Leopard pushing in from the north, the Kharula Female Leopard from the south, and the Ximungwe Female Leopard to the west, it’s entirely possible that her territory has been squeezed, forcing her to shift into a different area altogether.
At this stage, all we really know is that our last recorded sighting of her was back in November last year.
Of course, there’s also the very real possibility that she hasn’t gone anywhere at all.
The area she occupies is incredibly dense and difficult to traverse, one of those places where a leopard could quite easily be watching you without you ever knowing. It’s not hard to imagine her lying up on a hidden termite mound or tucked into a thicket, quietly observing as we drive straight past.
Sometimes, the bush reminds you just how much goes unseen.
For now, we wait. And we keep exploring.
I think that’s part of what makes a leopard like the Ndzanzeni Female so compelling. There’s an element of mystery that never quite leaves her. You don’t get regular, predictable sightings; you get moments. Hopefully, we will get another special moment with her soon.
So I’ll keep heading south, holding onto that small bit of hope that one day soon I’ll crest a rise or pull up at a waterhole and find her there again, resting effortlessly on the bank, or moving through the grass, pausing to scent-mark as she goes.
Until then, we can only be patient and trust that wherever she is, she’s continuing to navigate her world in the same quiet, resilient way she always has.
Hey Mega, what a lovely story – unlike most blogs not a fa tual report but a story tinged with a veil of mysterious excitement about a personality who chooses her own path. I have never seen her. Maybe, just maybe …. in a few weeks when I will be there? You never know!