On the topic of her work, she is effusive. Her profile indicates that any negative feelings have been transmuted into action, in the forms of training the women of her anti-poaching unit and the web of drone-based surveillance she has organized to oversee their operations. She seems more affected by the tragedies she witnessed on the reserve – comparing land mines to snares, and mentally turning the the reserve into a warzone. I tried approaching the topic from the angle of latent survivor’s guilt, but she brushed off my attempts. From the reports it’s clear the operation was a harrowing ordeal from which she was lucky to escape. Ndlovu refuses to speak about the ambush that decimated her unit. In the end, their divergent paths create a complementary partnership. It’s interesting that one focused on prevention, and the other on triage. Ndlovu's stoic comparison between the wounded of the battlefield and the cries of poisoned elephants is in stark contrast to Elna’s compassion. It wasn’t always an easy friendship, but their shared adoration for the animals of the game reserve and propensity for exploring where they absolutely should not have been saw them through a lot of challenges. Her relationship with Elna began the day they discovered that their names meant the same thing: “beloved”. When I asked if she thought we would ever be rid of it, she smiled and said, “It’s good to dream, Doctor.” Specialist Thandiwe “Melusi” Ndlovu strikes me as someone uniquely suited to carrying out South Africa’s ongoing conservation efforts – she is efficient, precise, and accepts that greed remains one of humanity’s greatest challenges. Together, they are the heart of the Inkaba Task Force Anti-Poaching Unit. When Gardiner, who had become an accomplished veterinarian, asked for help defending Hluhluwe–Imfolozi Park, Ndlovu resigned from the military and began training local women in tracking, interception, and surveillance at the Southern African Wildlife College.

Her persistence and dedication brought her to the attention of the 1 Parachute Battalion, until an ambush in the Central African Republic left her badly wounded. Ndlovu signed up with the South African National Defense Force to broaden her skillset and fund her field ranger training. The threat from poachers fueled their determination, and though haunted they focused on the lives they could save, rather than past casualties. As they grew, so did their appreciation of and sense of responsibility for the animals on the reserve.

Being out of shape doesn't completely disqualify you from being in Special Forces.Born in the small town of Louwsburg near the Ithala Game Reserve, Ndlovu spent many years exploring with her friend, Elna Gardiner. If they had a wheelchair operator, you'd be ok with it? No? She's fat but honestly it doesn't bother me? I've seen plenty of out of shape special forces (One time I saw this SWAT officer that looks like he can barely run a mile), hell I even have some friends who's not fit at all but they've been in the military. It's expected for them to be fit and mobile. Where do you draw the line before it gets too ridiculous? These are special forces. Not really immersion breaking too, it's equivalent to a fat cop. If you're playing against her, you're gonna see her for a sec dealing if you kill her or she kills you. IF you're playing as her, you're just gonna see her arms. Originally posted by JackMango ๑ﭥ:I don't get why this is a problem.

Fat gridlock r6