Wind ruffles the knee-high grass on the savannah where a lion is wavering between the half-eaten buffalo at his feet and a lioness a few hundred metres away. Perched on a tree nearby, vultures wait for a chance to steal his meal. Food or girl? From the safety of a jeep, we watch the lion and the dilemmas of his life.
The lion wants both. He tries dragging his meal with his mouth to where the lioness is but the carcass is too heavy. Panting, he decides to take a risk. He heads for the lioness. The vultures swoop down to the carcass the minute he turns his back. But the big cat chases the birds away with a roar. The game is repeated, until the lion realises he can't have both. He picks the lioness. But it is too late. By the time he reaches her she is resting after mating with another male. Looking desolate and forlorn, the lion crouches under a tree, gazing from afar at the vultures devouring his prey.
This is a slice of life in Kenya, the inspirational country famous for its colours, creatures and culture. Our expedition to the East African nation begins with a drive across the 'cradle of humanity' - the Great Rift Valley - where traces of humans dating back six million years have been found.
I feel lost in the vastness of the open plains. The compass in my watch is no help but it does break down the linguistic wall with the locals. We meet three men from the Masai - one of 70 tribal groups in Kenya - on our way to the grassland of the Masai Mara in southwestern Kenya. Our guide Alex Walker, a white Kenyan, stops the four-wheel drive to say jambo, hello in Swahili. The Masai men in their traditional blood-red dress see my watch and gesture to take a look. I then notice all of them wear a digital watch, along with their traditional colourful bead bangles - their identity cards, which tell their age and the clan they belong to.
Walker says Masai men are fascinated by watches because the wearers are considered educated. He suddenly removes the watch of one of the men and utters something in Swahili as he helps him put it on again. 'He had it on upside down,' Walker says. I chuckle, as do the three Masai. While watches are important to the Masai men, time is not. The tribe, which is estimated to have 300,000 to 400,000 people, is divided into 12 clans. Each clan is ruled by their own elders - men aged 28 and above. When the elders hold a meeting, it doesn't end until each has had a turn to speak.
The tribe still upholds traditional values and beliefs that reflect their intimacy with nature, but are probably considered controversial in the modern world: Masai men can have as many wives as they can afford and believe all the cattle in the world belong to them. It is said they still occasionally go on cattle raids to reclaim animals from other tribes. They drink mainly milk and cattle blood and have little to worry about except cattle and children.
Every year the Masai Mara witnesses a wonder of the world: 1.5 million wildebeests migrate between the Serengeti in Tanzania and the open plains of Kenya in search of lush grassland. Stories of the Masai and the migration are among the tales Walker tells around the campfire in the evening at Orobille Hill, Masai Mara. The camp site allows us a good view of the wildlife away from the main tourist sites.
