Rewilding - Remember we are wild…

Human Rewilding

Rewilding is a word we often associate with the natural world. The pioneering return of critically-endangered black rhinos to Segera in Kenya perhaps, or even the restoration of Segera’s land, from a parched dust bowl to a thriving oasis. In essence, it’s a restoration, a rehabilitation… a return to a natural state – and something that we as humans seem to have lost as we try desperately to keep up with the demands of our overstimulated life. We spend on average 90% of our time indoors, in urban environments, surrounded by noise, tethered to screens and disconnected from the natural world, and, by extension, from ourselves. We forget and ignore the very things that nourish our souls.

Science shows that our cognitive fatigue, the mental overload of modern life, is reversed dramatically when we spend time in nature. After just three days in a wilderness setting, studies reveal a notable drop in activity in the brain’s prefrontal cortex, the area responsible for decision-making and self-control. At the same time, creativity, memory and emotional clarity begin to rise. It’s as though the mind is physically exhaling.

When you immerse in the vast, unspoiled spaces of Africa, there is a rhythm our body remembers… A pace, a pulse, a presence. Imagine breathing in the cool, morning air of the bush, the hush broken only by birdsong; the distant sound of elephants rumbling through the tall grass or a leopard coughing nearby. It is in these wild places that the endangered species of our time – space, stillness and silence – are most powerfully felt.

I have long believed that nature is our nurture, that there is an innate intelligence in wild spaces and a memory of how we’re meant to feel. It’s why we meticulously design our journeys in a very singular way, not simply to showcase Africa’s extraordinary beauty, but to create the space and stillness for you to rewild and reconnect.

There’s a moment on safari that happens for of our guests. Sometimes it’s in the early morning, stepping barefoot onto the dew-soaked grass, sometimes it’s later, sitting beside the fire as the last embers glow. Whenever that moment happens, something softens… something returns. The human scaffolding dissolves and we gently drop back into ourselves.