Baraka the blind rhino at Ol Pejeta Conservancy.
My name is Baraka. I am 30 years old. I live on 100 acres of land, where I spend my days eating, basking in the sun, and receiving visitors.
I was born on November 20, 1994, the firstborn of huge black wild parents in a wild land. You can say I am dark and handsome.
Because I was a firstborn, I was named Baraka, a Swahili name meaning Blessing. I was very playful when young and ran a lot to release energy. I was also inquisitive to discover my natural environment.
My teenage years were wild but fun, and when it was time to find a girlfriend, I went out to look for one. If I had known what that would result in, I would have kept my feet stuck in my parents' land.
You see, the rule here is that if you want a girl, you must fight intensely with the other boys and win. Most of the time, we sustain serious injuries, but we take it like champs. If you lose, you try again another day.
However, sometimes the loser can die, literally.
The joy of winning cannot be compared to anything else. Once a boy establishes himself as a worthy suitor, the girl takes charge of the pursuit, and they begin a courtship.
Our way is interesting. She will vocalise her desire and approval by whistling at the winner. Then she will start to follow him everywhere, occasionally marking her territory and signalling other girls to back off.
Baraka the blind rhino at Ol Pejeta Conservancy.
As the romantic connection solidifies, she will actively pursue the suitor, initiating a "bluff and bluster" ritual that can last for hours. This play can get intense, with the male aggressively thrashing his head against his girl.
Sometimes, they may end up fighting, biting and butting each other. The entire courtship is perilous and draining. However, when you move past it, you become a couple and may even make some babies.
When I came of age, I sought out a girl, wanting to prove myself capable. It was a long time ago. She was very beautiful and had dark skin. It turned out that I was not the only one who was attracted to her.
Another male who also wanted her spotted me and dared me to fight or give up. I was not a coward, so I told him to bring it on. His big size didn't scare me; I was strong, young and agile, with raging testosterone, and I was sure I would win the fight and then win my girl.
I am embarrassed to say that I lost the fight and even sadder to report that I lost my right eye to my competitor, who, after injuring my ego by beating me thoroughly, thought it would be an excellent joke to pluck my eye out.
They would follow each other for days, mating for over half an hour each time. I cried for days and swore to get back at him after recovery.
Unfortunately, I developed a cataract in my other eye soon after that, making me totally blind. I was now vulnerable to petty fights among the boys, so I was isolated.
It is blissful here; I get to eat all day and receive and interact with my daily visitors, who are eager to learn the story of my life and the embarrassing story of how I lost my right eye.
The only thing I dislike is deworming, which I receive every five months. They are disgusting. Thank God I don't get them daily.
The most unfortunate fact of my life is that I will never become a father and pass down the beautiful genes that my parents handed over to me.
But I guess that is what the heavens ordained for me when I was born. I, however, find joy in being a global ambassador for the rest of my kind. How else would they know our way of life if they do not meet me?
