Rivers of Fear Run Through Malawi as Crocodiles Stage a Big Comeback

Dipping his arms into the murky river, Collins Skiper expected to grasp a healthy bunch of water lilies. Instead, he found both hands in the clutches of a crocodile’s ravenous jaws.

The predator dragged Skiper out of his shallow dug-out canoe and into the water. Memories of what followed that day in early January are sketchy. But Skiper does recall the terror, the pain and the violent struggle as six fellow fishermen clobbered the crocodile with their paddles.

Miraculously, they managed to free Skiper from the reptile’s grip and drag him to safety--his hands ripped and bloody.

“I thought I was going to die,” said Skiper, 21, whose wounds took almost a month to heal. “I shiver now each time I see a crocodile.”

The young fisherman was lucky. Few victims of the numerous crocodile attacks in this southern region of Malawi survive to tell their tale--much less with all their limbs intact.

Crocodiles “are a big problem,” said Dennis Chokolo, chief of the village where Skiper lives along the Shire River, an outlet of Lake Malawi. “Nobody can go and even take a bath in the river; not even the animals can go near. When they go to the river to drink, they are killed.”

Nile crocodiles are terrorizing communities along the Shire. Two people in Skiper’s village have been killed since January, and nearby settlements have experienced at least a dozen attacks since the beginning of the year. Depletion of the crocodiles’ natural prey, primarily caused by overfishing, has led to the surge in attacks.

Humans who fish, wash in and draw water from the crocodile- infested river, along with livestock grazing along its shoreline, are easy prey, wildlife specialists said. Some local fishermen have been literally plucked out of their makeshift canoes, many of which have less than six inches of clearance from the water.

Paul Taylor, chairman of the Blantyre branch of the Wildlife and Environmental Society of Malawi, said attacks are “more a problem of the human population than the crocodile population. As the [human] population gets bigger, more and more people are moving into areas where the crocodiles exist. So the chances of a crocodile encounter are larger.”

Figures on crocodile attacks here are unavailable. But some hunters believe that at least one Malawian is killed or maimed by a crocodile every day and that as many as two victims fall prey daily during the warm season from October to April.

“Most of the cases are not reported; people just go missing,” said Wisdom Mwanza, director of planning and development for the District Assembly in Chikwawa, one of the areas hit hardest by crocodile attacks.

Rall Schmidt, a surgeon, treated more than 60 patients with crocodile-caused injuries between 1998 and mid-2001, when he worked at a remote hospital near Nsanje district’s swamps and elephant marshes. But that figure, he said, represents a fraction of attacks.

“If you have 20 victims coming to the hospital, you have to estimate that 4 or 5 others have died,” said Schmidt. Among his patients, 80% had lost a limb and 25% had both a leg and an arm missing. All suffered extensive bites and fractures.

Nile crocodiles, which can grow to more than 14 feet and weigh up to a ton, were declared endangered in 1976 by the Convention on International Trade in Endangered Species, an agreement designed to protect threatened wildlife. Ruthless hunting for its skin in the early 20th century had pushed the reptile to the verge of extinction in Malawi.

Although it appears to have greatly recovered in recent years, the Nile crocodile was among the species recommended for additional protection during a review in 2000.

Malawi is officially allowed to cull only 200 crocodiles a year, even though the government estimates the population to be between 5,000 and 8,000.

“It’s made things worse, naturally,” said commercial hunter Khalid Hassen, who used to kill about 800 crocodiles a year.

The increasing rate of attacks has led the government to defy the treaty and hire commercial hunters. Lenard Sefu, director of Malawi’s Ministry of Tourism, Parks and Wildlife, said 20 to 25 additional crocodiles are killed each year by hired hands.

Hassen, who now runs a tannery and exports his skins to fashion houses in Europe, estimates that at least 500 crocodiles would need to be culled each year in Malawi to keep the population under control.

Many villagers believe that witchcraft is behind the proliferation of attacks and that only certain unfortunate souls are targeted.

In an attempt to reduce the number of attacks, local conservation groups backed by the government and foreign donors have launched a public awareness campaign aimed at promoting “sensible behavior” among riverside communities.

People are being asked to use larger fishing boats with high water clearance. Upland irrigation is being encouraged to keep people from planting crops in wetlands, which are crocodile havens, and bore holes have been dug in several settlements to deter people from drawing water from the river.

Some wildlife lovers are keen to enhance the reputation of crocodiles while exploiting the reptile’s assets for economic gain.

Reg Carvalho, a local businessman, is developing a crocodile ranch on the shores of Lake Malawi, primarily to farm the tail meat, considered a delicacy by some Malawians, and to export the skins for the manufacture of shoes and handbags.

“Everything that has been put on earth at some time or the other is of benefit to us,” said Carvalho, who bought an existing crocodile farm two years ago and hopes to farm between 6,000 and 10,000 animals a year.

Today, he owns 2,500 reptiles, including dozens of 8-inch hatchlings along with 8-foot breeders. The best size for culling crocodiles is between 2 and 3 feet, Carvalho said. The lucrative belly skin, if stripped without piercing and correctly tanned, can fetch $140 to $210.

Once construction of several new crocodile pens, an egg incubator and a fish dam are complete by year’s end, Carvalho hopes to turn the farm into a tourist attraction that will create jobs and help teach residents about the animals.

Sefu, the wildlife official, said the government supports the idea of community-based crocodile farms that would allow villagers to help rear crocodiles and make a profit from the sale of their meat and skins.

“The challenge is to demonstrate to people that crocodiles are not only a problem, [they] are an asset,” he added. “That would change the community’s perception of them.”

But one would be hard pressed these days to find villagers living along the Shire River who believe that crocodiles should be reared for any reason--even money. Many argue that looking after crocodiles in a community setting would be like welcoming serial killers into a neighborhood to play with the kids.

Sukweya Douglas Donkeya, 56, whose bandaged, mangled right hand and torn foot and thigh are a reminder of an attack he survived last month while bathing in the river, said, “It’s a dangerous [animal], and we should make sure we kill all of them.”