Each year, during the last full moon of the dry season, teams gather across Hwange National Park to take part in the annual wildlife census organized by Wildlife and Environment Zimbabwe (WEZ). Running continuously since 1972, it is the longest-standing game count in Southern Africa.
When Tony Park, Australian author, settled into position at Nantwich Lodge this September, he was participating in something truly special: the longest continuously running game census in Southern Africa. Since 1972, the WEZ Wildlife and Environment Zimbabwe Hwange game census has brought together teams from across Zimbabwe, South Africa, and around the world for a singular purpose: to count every mammal that approaches the waterholes during one critical 24-hour period.
A Tradition Born from the Dry Season
The timing of the census is no accident. Held on the last full moon of the dry season, typically in late September or early October, the count capitalizes on a simple ecological truth: when water is scarce, animals congregate. “The theory is that all mammals will drink at least once in twenty-four hours,” Tony explains, “and it’s held at the end of the dry season, obviously, because that’s when animals are congregating at the remaining water points, so it’s a good snapshot of the animal population.”
Starting at midday and running through to midday the following day, counters meticulously record not just species and numbers, but sex, age, and whether the animals actually drink. This data has become invaluable for Zimbabwe’s National Parks and, perhaps more critically, for researchers monitoring endangered species like lions, cheetahs, leopards, and wild dogs.
Elephants: The Thirty-Year Trend
One of the most dramatic trends the census has revealed is the explosion in elephant numbers since culling ceased in 1980. Between 30,000 and 50,000 elephants now roam Hwange National Park, part of a transient population that moves freely between Hwange, Kazuma, and into Botswana’s Chobe region.
Tony’s team experienced this firsthand when approximately 70 elephants approached the waterhole around 12:30 in the morning. The massive herd seemed relaxed, comfortable drinking right up at the camp waterhole, until something changed. “Something spooked them, and they ran off very quickly. We didn’t see them again,” Tony recalls. He suspects it may have been the presence of lions in the area.
The Nantwich Count: Two Teams, Two Perspectives
This year, two teams covered the Nantwich concession. Tony’s team at the main lodge tallied 243 animals over their 24-hour vigil, while a second team positioned at the natural springs, visible from the lodge’s swimming pool, counted an impressive 343 animals.
The springs team had their own brush with Africa’s most iconic predator. Two big male lions spent the night roaring nearby before approaching to within a couple of meters of the counting vehicle. Tony describes it as “giving the counters quite a thrill”, though one imagines “thrill” might be an understatement for those sitting in the dark with two massive males practically breathing on their vehicle.
A Changing Landscape: The Gift of Habituation
After thirty years of visiting the Nantwich area, Tony has observed a profound shift in animal behavior. “The presence of Nantwich Lodge and regular guests coming through on a regular basis and game drives being done, have resulted in the game around Nantwich becoming much more relaxed,” he notes.
In the past, animals would flee at the sight of vehicles, perhaps mistaking them for hunters. Now, kudus and warthogs wander right up to camp. Even the elephants, before they were spooked, were remarkably calm. This habituation hasn’t domesticated the wildlife—they remain wild animals—but it has created what Tony describes as “excellent gaming” opportunities for visitors.
Rare Sightings and Biodiversity Riches
Among the 243 animals counted at the main lodge, several sightings stood out. The resident honey badgers made an appearance, one of two that live around the lodge. An African wildcat was spotted, along with spotted hyena and plenty of jackals, both black-backed and side-striped varieties. Plains game were abundant: kudu, zebra, impala, and reedbuck.
But perhaps the most exciting sighting for Tony personally was a porcupine. “Something that I haven’t seen in thirty years of visiting Nantwich,” he says, “so that was quite interesting.”
The springs team added to the species list with a sighting of roan antelope, always a welcome observation, along with reedbuck. They also recorded two ground hornbills, one of the rarest species that researchers particularly like to monitor.
The birdlife didn’t disappoint either, with Tony’s team ticking off 42 different bird species, a remarkable total that speaks to the area’s ecological health.
A Biodiversity Hotspot
The diversity of species at Nantwich is no fluke. In previous counts, this concession has recorded the highest species diversity in the entire national park. Not the largest number of individual animals, but the greatest variety. Tony recalls one count where they documented around 18 different species, cementing Nantwich’s reputation as “a really rich area for biodiversity.”
This year’s count reinforced that status, with giraffe spotted on the vlei alongside abundant zebra populations. The presence of everything from tiny honey badgers to massive elephant herds, from secretive porcupines to roaring lions, tells a story of an ecosystem in balance.
The Bottom Line
After 24 hours of counting, recording, and occasionally holding their breath as predators prowled past, Tony’s assessment is clear: there’s a healthy population of animals in the Nantwich concession. More importantly, after decades of conservation efforts and responsible tourism, the wildlife here has learned that vehicles don’t mean danger.
“The biggest takeaway,” Tony reflects, “is that the game is relaxed. They’re not scared of humans anymore up there.”
It’s a testament to what can happen when conservation, tourism, and scientific research work hand in hand, creating not just a census, but a living laboratory where both animals and humans can coexist, if only for one magical night under the full moon each year.
