David Mascall’s 12 years in the lions’ den

His arm was so badly mauled it looked like “shreds of meat”. The hand was crushed; its tendons hanging off. One finger was dislocated, another broken, a third functionless. Miraculously, no artery was severed.

Although Mr Mascall didn’t lose consciousness, he did lose his glasses in the attack and couldn’t see clearly. A Kenya Wildlife Service warden guided him into a waiting car. He was taken to Nairobi hospital and three operations, 583 stitches and Sh1 million later, Mr Mascall was back at work among the lions he loved.

For many people, an attack like this would be enough to turn them off lions for life, but not Mr Mascall. If anything, he is grateful it happened to him.

Firstly, had a child been attacked, the consequences would surely have been catastrophic. Secondly, the Animal Orphanage now knew it needed to build a modern, more secure enclosure, which they did.

And in his 12 years of entering the lions’ den the only time Mr Mascall was attacked was when he was chatting with females. Was Girlie jealous or just playing catty?

Then the urgency in Mr Mascall’s voice. The number of wild lions in Kenya has plummeted from 15,000 in the 1980s to less than 2,000 today. Kenya’s most densely populated wildlife area, the Maasai Mara, has lost 70 per cent of its wildlife in the last 10 years.

“This is a frightening loss, a massive bite out of our heritage. Unless the trend is reversed, there will be nothing left in 50 years,” he warned.

As he passes his sixth decade, Mr Mascall is embarking on his toughest task to date – convincing his countrymen that lions are a microcosm for Kenya: allow the prides to die and Kenya’s pride as the safari destination of the world dies with them.