The Gombe Chimpanzee War

Leakey’s death set in to motion a chain of events none of us had foreseen but which were, in retrospect, inevitable.

We were milling around in the canopy, playing and grooming. Humphrey, Leakey’s eldest son, was hanging out with him when Leakey fell. One moment he was there swinging, full of life; the next: gone from view. He fell one hundred feet from the tree tops to the forest floor, crashing through every branch along the way.

Leakey had been our leader for seven years and he left an awful gap in our lives. He was a natural alpha. Strong, brave, and charismatic, he led the Kasekela troupe to rule over the whole of the Gombe valley. Everyone liked him, except perhaps for Hugh and Charlie, his younger brothers, though even they had enough respect for him not to put forth a challenge. He was our protector. Our king. There was something about him that made you want to follow him, to fight for him, to love him. And I did. Love him, that is.

After he died, I fell in to a daze. I don’t know if I ate or slept or dreamt. I just sat there, up in the high canopy, staring down at where he had fallen, imagining that I could see his body. Humphrey and Hugh went down to check on him, and a few others followed to prove to themselves that he was gone. They returned, sad and quiet. I couldn’t face it myself. I wanted to remember him as he had been: proud and strong, swinging through the trees as though he owned the whole forest.

It was days before I snapped out of it and found that Humphrey had taken control of the Kasekela. As Leakey’s first-born it was his right, but we all knew there was going to be trouble. Humphrey had Leakey’s strength, and his smarts, but even so it was hard to see much of his father in him. Not one of us could truly say that we liked him. Perhaps he was too cunning. Too fickle. Too ready with the girls. Not that he ever tried that with me.

I had been Leakey’s favourite and Humphrey thought this meant I was off-limits.  Perhaps I should have been grateful for that respect, but I hated him for it. Every day it reminded me I was the girl of a dead chimp. Every day his disinterest made me wish Leakey was still alive when all I wanted was to forget. To be normal. To be wanted. 

A few weeks in to Humphrey’s rule, I was off on my own, looking for fruit-grubs on a rotting mango tree when Hugh and Charlie materialised out of the forest. It was obvious what they wanted, but it seemed so wrong. I had known them forever. I had lain with their father. Humphrey was the alpha. They didn’t care. As they circled in and I resigned myself to my fate, and realised, I didn’t care either. I wanted to feel alive again, and they were certainly able to help with that.

When Humphrey found out he was livid. He screamed. He bellowed. He shook trees so violently they snapped, but he did not do the one thing he needed to: he did not fight. 

The troupe broke up overnight. Hugh, Charlie and their friends split off from the main group, along with a few females, their young ones and myself. Maybe we were stupid to think we could leave so easily, but there was really no choice.

We called ourselves Kahama. The Kings. Away from the confines of the old troupe, we felt freedom upon us and everything we did was with a care-free intensity I had never known. We hunted often, more so than necessary, swinging through the forest as one, feeding off each other’s hunger and desire in a maelstrom of dangerous energy, tearing apart our prey with our hands and fucking like the end of the world was upon us. 

But it was all over before it had begun. Humphrey couldn’t let us go. Maybe it was his pride; he was supposed to be the alpha and we had taken that from him. Maybe he was jealous. Sometimes I would catch sight of him, watching me from the tall trees across the river. It set my teeth on edge.

Gobi was the first casualty. He was a sweet thing. Kind, thoughtful, and pretty, we all loved our little Gobi. He was off on his own eating mangoes when Humphrey and his murderous band descended upon him and tore him limb from limb. They left… bits. Scattered across the forest floor. 

Hugh and Charlie tried to fight back, but they didn’t stand a chance. Over the next few years, our numbers were reduced until it was obvious that one more concerted attack from Humphrey would be the end of us all.

I knew what I had to do. 

I didn’t want to say goodbye. I didn’t think I would be able to. So, one day when we were all sun-bathing together in a clearing, I just got up and headed north. They watched me in silence, somehow all knowing exactly what I was doing. When I reached the tree-line, I turned, and waited.

One by one, the remnants of the Kahama followed me, each of them disappearing in to the forest until only Hugh & Charlie remained. 

Finally, Hugh gave a little nod. I stepped back, in to the undergrowth, and was gone.