I’ve been in Azhibai for a couple of days now and have hooked up with another saiga called Nancy. She lives in the village as she was left behind during the last migration.

Nancy suggested that I wait with her until the herd pass by and we follow them.

While we waited we’ve got to know the locals a little more and tried to immerse ourselves into village life, the goats here seem to have it easy as they go everywhere in wheelbarrows!

We learnt that about 60 children had attended a ‘Saiga Day’ party in May to find out more about our plight and to have fun painting pictures and writing stories about my species. The teachers and parents thought that it was real success and the children have been raving about it since then. They want to know when the next ‘Saiga Day’ will be. They have great ideas to involve teenagers and spread the word. Carlyn, who has been visiting the schools, is hearing some great feedback about the day and the awareness campaign that the ACBK /SCA lead in each village. She is hoping to help by compiling the feedback and suggesting what worked best and how we can improve things in the future.
Yesterday, we were interviewing a lovely old couple who remember when the saiga used to wander the steppe in their thousands, and used to wander into the village to drink from the cattle’s water troughs.

While we were there their granddaughter, who had been picking flowers on the steppe ran in to tell us that about 50 saiga had turned up and were grazing nearby. Excited, Nancy and I ran out to meet them, however before we could reach them a new pick-up truck roared to a stop close to them and jumped out firing shots randomly into the herd. We were stunned and watched horrified hidden behind the children as several men then approached the males and cut their heads off.

A couple of children had run back to the village, and fearing for our lives we ran with them to the police station. However, the poachers have a brand new jeep and the police don’t have anything so efficient on the steppe and so couldn’t catch them up.

10 of my kindred were killed that afternoon. The females dispersed scared and shaken straight afterwards, leaving Nancy and I behind.

When I told Hen and Carlyn they were distraught, but even more inspired to get to the bottom of the situation.

We headed out in the direction they had taken, hoping to catch them up.