North Serengeti, March 2026

Our recent trip to Tanzania marked exactly seven years since my first safari (how life has changed since!). Through all these years and countless game drives, I have been blessed with incredible sightings of animals old and young, big and small, timid and brazen. But I had one dream that was yet to come true - spotting a baby leopard…

You know how in recent years the belief in the power of manifestation has become rather fashionable? And while I myself had never been much of a fan of such “magical thinking” (too cynical for my own good), I have been warming up to the idea lately. When we arrived in Tanzania, I found myself quickly intoxicated by the experience in Ngorongoro and a peculiar ethereal feeling took over. “So why not,” I thought to myself, “try and manifest a baby leopard sighting?” Yes, they are almost impossible to spot since leopard mums are great at hiding their cubs. But let’s give it a try!

Days passed one after the other. No baby leopard in sight. It was the very last morning in North Serengeti, just a few hours before our flight back. I was sitting on the deck of my tent, sipping my morning tea, gazing out into the plains and contemplating how magic had let me down. Then just as I was mulling over my disappointment, my trained safari eyes saw something move in the bush a few meters to my right. “It can’t be! I bet it’s just a hyrax!” I sat down and remained quiet. A few minutes passed. I was so still, I might have forgotten to breathe. And then, having regained courage, she reappeared - the sweetest, smallest leopard cub! Looking straight at me with her curious big eyes. My heart skipped a beat. Here she was, coming to say farewell. Just for me. Magic must be real after all! We stood like that for a while, breathless, still, getting to know each other. Then she made a few playful jumps and disappeared.

Once I had finally regained my composure, I immediately texted Gabi and Satya, who were staying at the tent next door to me. All caps, “YOU WON’T BELIEVE IT” kind of message. And since they indeed did not believe it, I sent over the leopard baby photo. 

So naturally, they immediately called one of the Maasai guards to walk them over to my tent. Why call a guard? Well, simple - if there is a baby leopard somewhere, the mum won’t be too far away, and she will be very alert. Mums normally leave the cubs overnight as they hunt and come back to check on them with prey in the early morning hours - right about this time of day…

We had all wondered the previous day why guards were sent to accompany us during daylight hours - normally, you only get guards coming along with you during the night (mostly to avoid hippos and occasionally lions). But given the camp’s remote location and rocky surroundings, it makes perfect sense that it is prime leopard territory! I took a quick mental note - Kuria Hills is the ideal spot in North Serengeti for anyone looking to find the most elusive of the big cats.

Gabi and Satya arrived, very excited - neither of them had seen a cub this small either. But after the little show she put out for me, she had become shy and was now hiding deep inside the bushes. The commotion must have put her off, too. So I hid inside the tent and let Gabi and Satya sink into the couch. We must have waited like this for about 20-30 minutes, as still as can be. Then she finally regained courage and came to say hi! She showed her face, looked around, made a little jump, then hid back again. That was it for today.

We headed over to breakfast, realising time had very much slipped away from us and we had to rush to make it to our flight. As we walked towards the main tent, we saw fresh leopard prints - the mum must have just passed through! The camp staff was as excited as us to hear about the baby - not a common occurrence, especially right inside the camp. We sat down for breakfast, hearts still racing, wondering when the mum will make an appearance. And then we heard the baboons calling - loud, shrieking alarm calls, a mere 10 meters away from us. There she was! Heading back to her little one.

What a morning. Were we close to missing our flight? Oh yes. But we somehow made it, adrenaline still pumping. The plane took off, gently grazing the Serengeti plains, flying low above rivers and gorges, all the way from North to South Serengeti, then over Ngorongoro in all its glory. I sat quietly, looking out of the window, and I could not shake the thought that magic must be, indeed, real. And that wishes do come true, especially in this enchanted place.