African Honey Bees
Disturb Them if You Dare!

A colleague of mine had the mis-fortune of disturbing a colony of African Honey Bees! I am very grateful to him for sharing this with us.

During 2001, I used to do aqua geometrical sampling for the coal mines around the Witbank area in South Africa. A huge part of aqua geometric sampling requires you to take a water sample from ground water via borehole access.

I would drop a sampling tube into a 25cm (app 10 inch) diameter borehole drilled for that specific purpose and collect a water sample to be analysed for pollution etc.

In an effort to keep contamination and vandalism from above to a minimum, the metal casings would be covered by a lid and fitted with a pin and lock.

These lids were never meant to be airtight but actually left a 5-10mm gap… just enough space for an African honey bee to fit through. Some of the boreholes were consequently invaded by these Bees.

The boreholes that my Zulu assistant Solomon and I had to access, were in very remote areas and only accessible with an off-road 4x4 vehicle. I soon learned to take my bee-keeping equipment and a cardboard box with me on these trips.

On one particular trip, we had to travel far into difficult terrain to sample a borehole. A very aggressive swarm had settled in the cap of this borehole.

In situations similar to this, we would wait until late afternoon so that the swarm could settle down and we would have a bit of cover in darkness.

Plan B was to allow one person to stay in the vehicle (this would be parked at least 50 yards from the hive) in case things turn ugly. Solomon insisted that we open the lid as he was of the opinion that the African Honey Bees would not attack. Plan B deployed.

The lid was approximately a foot off the ground. It needed to be lifted another foot to clear the casing of the borehole. Solomon unlocked and pulled out the pin that held down the lid.

He started lifting the lid. As the cones, which were covered with angry Bees got exposed to the sunlight, he realised that he would have to lift it higher to clear the top of the casing.

Dropping the pieces of the cone into the borehole was going to complicate the sampling process a lot. As he lifted it out further and further, we both realised that this swarm had built themselves a palace for their queen!

Solomon ended up looking like a cowboy that had lost a gun fight. He had his arms stretched upwards to their limits and was starting to tiptoe like a ballerina, giving the African Honey Bees a clear and well advertised target to vent their anger.

He managed to clear the borehole by mere luck. That is where his luck ended. From the pick-up, I saw him slowly disappearing in a haze of flying bees.

He started to run towards me. His ability to take such large steps with his knees bent was very impressive. He charged towards the passenger door with a loud ‘shweeeee!!’ that has a clear informal meaning in many languages and when I realised that he was still covered with African Honey Bees.

Just as he reached for the door I managed to lock it. I knew that it would be impossible for any person to reason with a man in his current predicament and reverted to gestures that he had to jump on the back of the pick-up.

I started the vehicle and pulled off as soon as I saw his waistband in the mirror. The only way to outrun the African Honey Bees was to go as fast as possible through a very rough terrain. I knew he would be able to hold on to the roll-bar.

Looking over my shoulder, I could see him brave the bucking vehicle under his feet and let go with one hand to swat at the African Honey Bees stinging him all over. I concentrated more on not driving into a warthog hole or hitting a tree.

Eventually I stopped after a more than adequate distance, looked back and saw the poor old man still very much under attack.

Off we went again, bobbing and weaving through the bush. After stopping the third time, I realised that these African Honey Bees have to be super-turbine-driven for keeping up, or there had to be a more logical explanation.

In his haste to get away from the borehole, poor Solomon had accidently thrown the lid on the back of the pick-up. The majority of the swarm was happily taking part in the bundu-bashing while taking sweet revenge for being evicted.

A couple of gestures and pointing later, the lid with African Honey Bees was left behind and our escape effort started again.

Three hours later, Solomon had swollen up to the point where he had to open his eyes by using his fingers to pry open the lids. The doctor declared him well enough to go home but not left alone. One could be mistaken to think that this would be the end of the excitement, but it wasn’t.

Solomon, we assumed, was born in 1940. He was from the Sekukukune rural area in South Africa where sangomas and traditional doctors are the alpha and omega of medicine.

Later that same evening, we noticed a huge gash on Solomon’s head. He had tried to relieve the swelling on his head by cutting himself! He explained that he ‘knows’ that this is what the traditional doctor would have recommended.

We kept an eagle eye on him from then on, keeping him far away from sharp objects ……and African Honey Bees.