The Ithemba Scarf

The Leopards from the Okavango
(A Folktale from the Heart of the Delta)

Once upon a time, in the golden light of the Okavango Delta, where the water dances with reeds and the wind whispers to the trees, there lived a secretive group of leopards. They were not ordinary leopards, for their eyes glowed like moonlight on water, and their paws left no trace in the mud. The villagers who lived nearby called them "Bana ba Pula" — Children of the Rain — because they were only ever seen when the rains had just fallen and the land sang with life.

These leopards lived deep within the thickest part of the delta, where even the crocodiles dared not go. It was said they were the keepers of balance — guardians of the animals and the waters. Elders told stories around fires that the leopards could speak, but only to those who respected the land and walked with quiet hearts.

One year, the rains did not come. The delta began to shrink, the fish swam slower, and the birds grew silent. The villagers grew worried, for without the rains, nothing could thrive.

A young girl named Thato, brave and full of questions, decided to venture into the delta alone. She had heard her grandmother’s stories about the Leopards from the Okavango and believed they might know why the rains had stopped. She carried with her a calabash of water, a necklace made of baobab seeds, and a promise in her heart to harm nothing along the way.

For three days and three nights, Thato walked, listening to the sounds of frogs, reeds, and far-off lions. On the fourth night, under a sky full of stars, she found herself surrounded by glowing eyes. The leopards had come.

The largest of them, his coat dappled like a reflection on water, stepped forward and spoke.

"Why have you come, little one, walking alone through the land of spirits?"

Thato knelt and placed the calabash on the earth. “I have come to ask why the rains have abandoned us. The land thirsts, and the balance is breaking.”

The leopards circled her, silent and thoughtful. Finally, the eldest among them — an old female with fur the color of smoke — spoke.

"The rains listen only to those who listen to the land. The trees have been cut too quickly. The waterholes have been fouled. The hippos cry, and no one hears. The rains will not come where they are not honored."

With a heavy heart, Thato asked, “What can we do?”

The leopards gave her a single feather from a crowned crane and a message: “Plant, protect, and remember. If the land heals, the rains will return.”

Thato returned to her village and told her story. Many laughed, but others — especially the old ones — listened. Together, they began planting trees, clearing trash from the riverbanks, and holding songs for the rain. Word spread to other villages, and soon the delta began to breathe again.

And when the first rains finally came, they came with a roar and a dance. That night, some say they saw shadows slipping through the reeds, eyes glowing like the stars.

To this day, the children of the Okavango are taught to listen to the land and respect its rhythms — for the Leopards from the Okavango are always watching, and they only reveal themselves when the world is ready to hear.