Three Generations, One Kill: A Rare Leopard Encounter
on Jul 15, 2025There are moments in the wild that defy all expectations. You go out on a game drive hoping for a glimpse of a big cat, and sometimes, just sometimes, you get gifted a story that will stay with you for a lifetime. That’s what happened when we witnessed three generations of leopards in a single sighting, locked in a struggle over a single kill.
It began like any other early morning in the bush - mist clinging low to the ground, birdsong echoing through the trees, and fresh tracks in the dust. Our tracker, Mike, had picked up the spoor of a leopard, still fresh, winding away from a nearby waterhole - a sign that a kill may have been made during the night.
We followed slowly, hearts pounding with anticipation, each step filled with quiet hope for a sighting. What we discovered was beyond anything we could have imagined.
High in the fork of a Bushwillow tree hung the carcass of a young impala - its lifeless body draped across the branches. Beneath it, half-concealed in the grass, lay a younger, sleeker leopard, her body taut with energy and intent. It was the Golonyi female, renowned for her calm demeanour around safari vehicles.
But she wasn’t alone.
Beside her, peering up at the tree with wide, curious eyes, was her little cub - tentative, watching, wondering if he could climb up before his mother did.
Before we could settle into observation, movement stirred nearby; another leopard approached, a mature female leopard. She watched us, wary but calm. We recognised her instantly: a known matriarch of the area, aged but powerful – Ntsumi – Golonyi’s mother. She was here to steal the kill.
After feeding their fill, the Golonyi female and her cub dropped the impala carcass from the tree and moved off to rest beneath a nearby thicket, unaware that they were being watched.
Concealed in the shadows, the Ntsumi female had been silently eyeing the prize. Seizing her moment, she moved with swift precision, dragging the carcass away without a sound. With practised ease, she hoisted it into the branches of a different tree, claiming it as her own.
Satisfied and unseen, she retreated to a dry riverbed nearby - close enough to keep watch over her stolen meal.
Out from the thicket padded a small figure. Less than a year old, wide-eyed and unsure of what was going on – Ntsumi’s grandson, Golonyi’s cub - watched from a distance as his mother went on a trail of the drag marks and the scent of Ntsumi to locate the stolen kill. It was extraordinary to watch a matriarch defending the kill, a daughter fighting for dominance, and the future quietly observing from the sidelines.
Eventually, the Ntsumi female backed off upon seeing that her daughter was resilient and found her and the kill. She was panting, eyes still blazing with anger and defiance. Golonyi returned to the base of the tree, reclaiming her ground, watching the kill from a thicket. Her cub sat with her for a while before getting to feed on their reclaimed kill.
In the end, it wasn’t strength or rank that won, it was innocence. Three generations met at one moment of survival, and the youngest, unchallenged by the rules of dominance, fed in peace while his elders watched, nursing their defeat and pride.
Seeing leopards in the wild is always special. But witnessing a multi-generational encounter - layered with history, hierarchy, and raw emotion - was something else entirely. It was a reminder that even in nature, families are complex. That love, rivalry, and legacy play out not only in human dramas but in the very heart of the wilderness.
This wasn’t just a sighting. It was a story - and we were lucky enough to be there for its telling.
Blog by Ronald Mutero (Selati Camp Ranger)
