February 2025, The Colossus of Colossi…!!

 

There was a part of this adventure’s organization that unfolded behind the scenes of my still-sound mind. With a bit of magic at times, some luck here and there, one stroke of bad luck, but always keeping a sober head and a watchful, vigilant eye, I willingly played the game of being open and available to the unexpected twists of the road.

I suspect our guide Christophe of telling us as little as possible just to build the suspense—or so I thought as I kept an eye on him. And oh boy, did he ever succeed.

Christophe has been coming to this part of the planet for over 15 years, and the Maasai welcome him with warm embraces. They affectionately call him “Papa Chris.” I thought to myself, what a life this Franco-Québéco-Kenyan man must have led and continues to lead, and what has he done with the Maasai to earn such deep respect? Maybe one day, he’ll tell me all those stories. But for now, let’s return to our elephantine mission: meeting the beast.

To my great surprise, we found ourselves outside the main gates of Amboseli National Park, deep in Maasai territory. We turned onto a dirt road and looked due south, towards Tanzania, with the nearly 6,000-meter majesty of Mount Kilimanjaro looming overhead. I already knew—felt—that something was brewing, and that I would remember this moment forever.

I put down my cameras and stuck my head out of the Land Cruiser to breathe in as much of the air as my lungs could take. I looked everywhere, trying to be the most absorbent sponge possible. On the left, the bush teemed with acacias, balaas, kigelias, and towering candelabra euphorbias. On the right, a more arid horizon stretched far into the distance. The landscape was fabulous—grandiose. In hindsight, I realized it was also tinged with the bittersweet knowledge that these were my last moments in this blessed land of wild nature.

This is the cradle of elephants, and I was there—I had to pinch myself to believe it.

I put my glasses back on to keep the dust out of my eyes, struggling to tear my gaze away from the imposing volcano. All this mysticism—how many legends and fables haunted the earliest communities that lived in these plains at the dawn of humanity? How many stories are unfolding here even now? Stories that have shaped us since the genesis of our existence.

The iconic imagery of these magnificent latitudes, which I had studied so many times over the years before this journey—all those photos taken by other photographers—were right there… right in front of me. Like something straight out of tales told by the most talented adventurers, I found myself drifting into a daydream, lost in this floating poetry when suddenly the Land Cruiser came to a sudden stop.

On the road, not antelopes, not zebras, not birds crossing our path—but him. The great, the one and only—Craig the elephant.

The largest of all the pachyderms in the region, in Kenya, in Africa… no, scratch that—the largest SUPER BIG TUSKER on the planet—was walking right in front of us.

At 4.2 meters (13.8 feet) at the shoulder and weighing around 7 tons, the one we had only dared hope to catch a glimpse of was right there before me. Chills ran down my spine—he was gigantic.

Time seemed to freeze and compress. Everyone stopped. We all just admired the beast, the colossus.

I took a few shots, and the faint sound of my shutter annoyed me. I stopped.

I looked. I contemplated. I swallowed hard. I closed my mouth.

I redefined the word awestruck in my head and savored the moment. Silence… he passed. He made no sound. This was his home. I was in his home.

And it only lasted a few seconds. I was floored. I even photographed his rear as he wandered back into the savanna.

I wanted to hit life’s rewind button.

Then Antony, our Maasai friend and Land Cruiser driver, turned to me and said the magic words:

“Not bad for a first time hey Vic!! Want to see some more??” He turned the vehicle around to intercept Craig farther along his usual path. We picked up Daniel, the tall and kind guardian, who joined us to guide this close encounter of the third kind. And the adventure resumed—because Craig does nothing but eat all day long. He drinks here and there, visits the same spots, all known by our Maasai friends. And if I got permission, I would leave the Cruiser to live my still-unrealized dream: to photograph Craig from the ground.

After several maneuvers, Antony found Craig again, far off in the distance, parked at a watering hole, refueling with nearly 200 liters.

He showered himself with fresh, protective mud, then continued his slow path through the grasses and bushes of this enchanting land.

Hours later, as my hopes faded into a daze between nap and hunger, Daniel said, ”…come, come, follow me…”

I jumped out of the Cruiser with my cameras and followed him like a SWAT team member—knees bent, quads flexed, ankles scraping against thorny bushes that opened up cuts on my skin. I followed my guide, who knew where the colossus was headed.

Behind a giant bush, Craig was scratching his back against a tree, walking calmly toward us. “Don’t worry Vic, he is a gentle giant, but please NO sudden gestures, ok!!” Daniel whispered behind me, careful not to block my view. I thought to myself—Christophe definitely trained him to guide photographers. And wow, he did a great job.

Craig posed.He dusted himself off with earth. He looked around like everything was just… fine.

Later I learned that Daniel and Julius, our elephant guardians, grew up with elephants—and Craig knew and recognized them, not only by sight but by their scent since they were children. Now 53 years old, Craig has become the darling and the legend of Amboseli.

Photographing this colossus is no easy feat. Beyond the permissions—which aren’t administrative, but based on human relationships—many other “conditions” must align to get a truly professional shot. You can’t just buy your way into the “line” to photograph Craig, and there’s no guarantee the Maasai will take you there.

In Kenya, elephant poaching is punishable by death. In Tanzania, however, “Big Game” hunting is still allowed—this includes the infamous Super Tusker Trophy Hunting, where hunting permits are sold at outrageous prices. I’ll spare you the details of the stories that make me sick and disgusted—tales of a pointless human thirst for bragging rights.

Continuing the adventure, Daniel gifted me a bracelet, a symbol of friendship, with the approval of Chief Mulanti. They asked me to speak, to share, to publish what these adventures have awakened in me. So here I am—sharing their part of the world, the beauty of this place and its people.

They encourage us to invite others to visit Amboseli and Kenya. To witness the forgotten beauty of this continent.

I’ll also tell you this: No one ever asked me for money. They treated me as one of their own. And despite the language barrier—since the Maasai speak Maa and few speak English—we laughed and shared absolutely unforgettable and unique moments that will stay with me forever.

This is just a simple (long) Facebook post where I have the pleasure of sharing some images from my photographer’s life.

Of course, I could go on—about the overwhelming emotion I felt during this encounter, or the deep sadness of witnessing the decline of big tuskers due to poaching.

I’ll end with a piece of important information: There are only about 20 to 25 Super Tuskers left on the planet. They are defined by tusks weighing over 45 kg (each). They play a vital role in the ecological balance of their environment.

The ATE, Amboseli Trust for Elephants, works to protect young elephants carrying the Super Tusker gene, to prevent the extinction of these extraordinary animals. Today, the elephant population is in much better shape than it was in the 1980s and 90s.

Park entrance fees help fund wildlife conservation, care for sick animals, and prevent the spread of disease. Many scientists are employed full-time to monitor and improve animal welfare and prevent poaching. Guides are also trained here to promote eco-tourism and cultural tourism.

So here are a few favorite shots—images that are the result of many years of effort to finally step foot on Kenyan soil and photograph a tiny piece of the animal kingdom.

A huge thank you to Christophe and Antony…

To my lion-obsessed photo buddy Damien…

And to the elephant guardians who dedicate their entire lives to protecting them—Julius, David, and Daniel.

This incredible odyssey is coming to an end, and with a lump in my throat, I head toward the Indian Ocean at Diani Beach, where I’ll give my camera a break and refresh myself in the warm equatorial waters of Africa.

 

See you at Les Francos…!!

Victor LAMICHE