Elephant society is built on the back of female bonds. Following a matriarchal herd structure, females raise their families alongside their own mothers, grandmothers, aunts, sisters, and nannies. Bulls, oft regarded as the ‘lone rangers’ of the species, are deeply social in their own way. While they strike out on their own when searching for a mate, they otherwise spend their time in the company of other bulls. These bachelor herds may be more nebulous than female family herds, but they too are fiercely protective of their friends. (For proof, one need not look any further than the many times bulls have brought injured friends to our stockades for treatment.)

But what of female-bull friendships? In fact, it is these sibling-like bonds that are often the most formative amongst our orphan herds. These are the relationships that help young orphans overcome the tragedy of their past and grow into happy, well-adjusted you elephants.

In time, the call of nature leads bulls to become more independent, while females form their own family herds. But even so, we know of many adult male orphans who remain deeply bonded to important girls in their lives. Laikipia, who is very connected to Mweya and Edie, comes to mind; as does Challa, who shares a similar bond with Loijuk and Lualeni. Or course, there is Mwashoti, who remains so devoted to Murera (and now, her daughter) that he reports to the Umani stockades nearly every morning, so they can spend the day together.

This month, I would like to highlight a few brother-sister bonds currently unfolding amongst our youngest orphans — where they started, and where they are today.

One year ago, a little sprite landed in our midst. Korbessa was just a few days old when she was rescued from a well on the border Meru National Park. Even before she arrived at our Kaluku Neonate Nursery, we knew that we had a formidable character on our hands: Korbessa spent her rescue flight wedged between her new Keeper’s legs, calmly staring out the plane window at the landscape below.

I placed Korbessa in a stable next to Toto. Toto has always been an exceptionally gentle young bull, and although he was about 18 months older than Korbessa, I felt sure that he would be a nurturing ‘big brother’ to the new rescue. My instincts were correct — Toto welcomed her with an open heart — but no one was prepared for the little whirlwind that was Korbessa! She immediately established herself as the tiny queen of Kaluku.

One could easily forgive Toto for begrudging Korbessa’s new reign. After all, she dethroned him as the baby of Kaluku and derailed some of his Keepers’ undivided attention. But Toto took the new dynamics in stride. He treated his new little sister with unfaltering (if occasionally bemused) affection, taking in her antics with equal parts appreciation and amazement.

Korbessa is constantly plotting away, with Toto her willing accomplice. One of her favourite tricks is to ‘jailbreak’ Toto from his bedroom. Clad in her bright blanket — not exactly going incognito for her duplicitous acts — she toddles over to his stable and uses her trunk to deftly undo the latch. Toto ambles out for a few minutes of bonus playtime with his clever little sister, before the Keepers put them to bed once and for all. (It must be said that Korbessa’s trick works both ways: Just as she is fond of jailbreaking Toto, she is equally fond of shutting him inside his room, unceremoniously shutting his doors if she feels he is stealing the show!)

When Korbessa went through teething, we moved her to the ‘river stable block’ near my house. Teething is a fraught process for orphans, and we knew that Korbessa would benefit from the quieter atmosphere and bounty of greens to be found by the river. You might think that Toto enjoyed an unshared spotlight in her absence, but that was not the case: When she returned to the main compound, no one was happier than Toto. In fact, all the boys were visibly delighted to have their little sister back — these days, it is difficult to see the little elephant amidst Toto, Mwinzi, and Natibu sandwiching her!

Korbessa reminds us how deeply elephants revere the females in their lives. She may be the smallest and the youngest orphan at Kaluku, but she is universally adored and respected by her ‘big brothers.’ As she gets older, they will benefit from Korbessa’s wisdom and leadership. But now, at this formative, fragile age, Korbessa is the lucky one — lucky to be surrounded by so much love.

The 2021-2022 drought brought a deluge of orphans into our midst. Our Nursery took on the appearance of an emergency room, with weekly (sometimes, daily) new rescues arriving in the most dire state. These little elephants came from across the country. Some were starvation cases, others were abandoned after growing too weak to keep up with their herd, still others lost their mothers to human-wildlife conflict or some other misfortune.

Little Mzinga arrived in February 2022. Found alone along the Voi River Circuit, she was just a few weeks old and held the distinction of being the Nursery’s youngest new rescue. Three months later, Nyambeni joined the creche class. Another infant female, she had fallen into a ditch outside the Imenti Forest. The girls bonded immediately.

And then, the following month, a little boy joined the mix. Mageno was a tragic drought victim; a pilot made a lucky sighting, spotting the young calf collapsed in the parched Tsavo landscape. Mageno came to us in a very precarious state, starving yet unable to keep anything down, and riddled with parasites.

Mageno was far too weak to join the bigger orphan herd, so we put him in the ‘blanket brigade’ with Mzinga and Nyambeni. He was several months older than both girls, but he slipped right into their mini group. It was deeply touching to witness how immediately and completely Mageno devoted himself to his ‘little sisters,’ despite his own health struggles. Edwin, Head Keeper at the Nursery, often remarked that he behaved more like a mini matriarch than a young bull. The girls hero worshipped their big brother, jostling around him in a patchwork of colourful blankets.

Nyambeni and Mzinga were pivotal to Mageno’s recovery. They gave him a purpose; a reason to fight. Today, Mageno is thriving as one of the bigger bulls at the Nursery, while Nyambeni and Mzinga are blossoming into nannies-in-waiting to the older mini matriarchs.

It may have evolved, but their friendship is still going strong. Even as one of the ‘bachelor boys,’ Mageno still has a soft spot for his little sisters. Perhaps the nurturing and kindness he was shown in his own hour of need, he also continues to look after those younger than him: One day, Mageno and Nyambeni spent an entire afternoon babysitting Talek. During Olomunyak’s first day out with the herd, Mageno chased everyone else away, so he could look after his new baby brother by himself.

So much is still unwritten, but we feel certain that Mageno would not be here today were it not for two little girls who helped pull him through his darkest times. And now, his entire future lies before him — one that, we feel sure, will be peppered with even more special female friendships.

A studious elder sister, a quirky middle sibling, and a mischievous (not to mention hopelessly spoiled) little brother — in a nutshell, that is the Kaluku Trio. In all our years of rescuing orphaned elephants, I don’t believe that any orphans have had such a strong, steadfast bond as Kindani, Kinyei, and Bondeni.

I have charted their origin story in a previous Field Notes, but suffice it to say, highly unusual circumstances brought these orphans together. Kindani and Kinyei struggled mightily with their health — hardly surprising, as they were rescued at such young, vulnerable ages. Seven months to the day after Kinyei arrived, Bondeni was rescued. We felt sure that he would give the girls a purpose, which was critical as they navigated their own health sagas.

Needless to say, the bond was instantaneous: Bondeni was a hopeless imp from the outset, but he respected his ‘big sisters’ implicitly and looked to them for guidance and structure. For their part, Kindani and Kinyei were entirely devoted and fiercely protective of their ‘little brother,’ treating him with the no-nonsense yet resolute loyalty that only a big sister can understand.

These little elephants had already travelled far together — from our Kaluku Neonate Unit as tiny, new rescues; to our Nairobi Nursery as toddlers; and more recently to our Ithumba Reintegration Unit, where they will ultimately reclaim their place in the wild. When they graduated to Ithumba last May, we wondered how the Kaluku Trio’s friendship would evolve.

The answer has been heartwarmingly anticlimactic: It hasn’t evolved at all! Kindani, Bondeni, and Kinyei have become beloved members of the Ithumba herd, forging solid friendships with their fellow orphans. But at the end of the day, the original club remains: The Kaluku Trio remain roommates, honorary siblings, and the very best of friends. They often split off from the main herd to enjoy private browsing sessions together.

It is very possible — in fact, highly likely — that Kindani and Kinyei will go through life together, raising their families and navigating their adulthoods side by side. As he gets older, Bondeni will become more independent, as bulls do. But even so, we suspect that this special bond will transcend time.

And to think, it all began with three little orphans clad in matching, cherry red blankets, brought together by fate and bonded together for a lifetime.