An encounter with lions on Lauren’s dream trip turned out to be far too claws for comfort…
Opening the email, I clasped my hand to my mouth.
‘Mum, they’ve offered me a place!’ I squealed.
I’d been accepted for a volunteering trip to South Africa.
The three-week placement was at a wildlife rehabilitation centre out in the wilderness.
As an animal lover, it was the perfect way to spend the summer before I started university.
Months later, I caught a flight to Johannesburg, and from there, I took another small plane, followed by a three-hour car journey.
Finally, I arrived at the centre where a staff member introduced me to the other volunteers, as well as taking me on a tour of the grounds.
‘Those are two of our lions, Duma and Tree,’ she said, pointing towards one enclosure.
Inside, I could see the two majestic big cats stretched out in the shade.
Over the next couple of weeks, I helped care for cheetahs, honey badgers and lion cubs.
‘I’d love to work more with the big cats,’ I told Yan, who managed the volunteers.
The next morning I got my wish.
‘Lauren, how about you clean the lion’s feeding cage?’ he asked.
Eager to be helpful, I agreed.
As I walked over, I could see Duma, the five-year-old male lion, rubbing against the bars.
I couldn’t help but think of my pet cat back home.
The feeding cage was cramped and I had to crouch to get inside.
Duma was watching with interest as I began scrubbing the floor.
His huge head, framed by his shaggy mane, was right up against the chain-link fence.
Suddenly, another volunteer passed by.
‘Wow, Lauren, you’re so lucky!’ she said. ‘Look how close he is.’
She even snapped a picture of me with Duma.
'I'd love to work with the big cats'
Then I got back to mopping.
Though most of the fencing was sturdy, the gate to the lion’s enclosure was just metal bars, around four inches apart.
As I cleaned, I noticed Duma sliding one gigantic paw tentatively through the gap.
A jolt of fear ran through me and I was suddenly very aware of his size.
There’s still over a foot between us, I reasoned.
But something about the lion’s unwavering stare was making me uncomfortable.
I couldn’t help but look away.
A second later, I was on my back, staring at the wall.
Then, something yanked my leg hard and I slid across the floor.
Looking up, I was faced with a horrifying sight.
Duma had his leg stretched the whole way through the gap and his claw was hooked in my right calf.
I kicked out instinctively, but he immediately grabbed that leg too and pulled it through.
Half of me was in the lion’s den.
Instead of pain, I felt as though I’d been plunged underwater.
The staff are going to kill me, I thought, in disbelief.
Then a calm voice in my head told me that I needed to get someone’s attention.
There’s only a short time left until it starts hurting, the voice said.
I could hear screaming, and at first I was relieved that someone had spotted me… But then I realised that the howls were coming from me.
'I've been attacked by a lion'
I watched as Duma’s claw opened my leg up like a knife through butter.
The pink flesh of my thigh was completely exposed. It looked like something you’d see at the butcher’s.
That can’t be my leg, I thought.
Duma wasn’t looking at me, but he had my knee in his mouth.
I saw his tooth puncture the joint. My skin prickled and I flushed hot all over.
A moment later, someone grabbed me under my arms and I realised it was another volunteer.
She tried to back away while holding me, but it was clear Duma was too strong.
Next thing I knew, she’d dropped me and run off to get help.
Grabbing my legs, I tried to pull them out from between the bars, but they kept getting stuck at my knees.
I’ll probably have to break them, I thought.
But even using all my strength, I couldn’t pull them free.
Meanwhile, Duma’s claws were still raking at my flesh.
My eyelids fluttered and it took everything I had to keep from passing out.
A minute later the cage was flooded with people.
I could see their faces, but it started to feel as though I was watching them from the end of a long tunnel.
The sound of banging and shouting drifted down to me.
Then suddenly I was free and they were carrying me out on to the tarmac.
Looking down at my hands, they were coated with blood.
As the sun beat down, I felt as though it was burning me alive.
‘Please, block the sun,’ I begged.
Someone radioed for a nurse and a woman named Kate quickly arrived at the scene.
‘Am I going to lose my legs?’ I asked.
I couldn’t move them — I could only wiggle my toes.
‘No,’ she said, ‘But you need to get to hospital immediately.’
She had to cram her thumb into one of the wounds to try and stem the bleeding.
My right kneecap was hanging by a flap of skin.
Meanwhile all the other volunteers were talking frantically. They told me that Tree, the lioness, had joined Duma in the attack.
The staff had only managed to scare the two of them off by banging buckets and hitting the lions with brooms.
Someone passed me a phone to speak to my mum, but I could only cry.
An hour later, an emergency paramedic arrived.
‘I’ve been attacked by a lion!’ I said, grabbing his arm.
‘I know,’ he replied.
He told me it would be another two hours until the ambulance could reach us, so we’d better drive to meet them.
Though he’d given me some painkillers, the adrenaline was wearing off and I was in agony.
By the time they’d got me into the ambulance, I wished they’d knocked me out.
Paramedics cut away my grey tracksuit bottoms to get a better look at the wounds.
I could see a huge flap of flesh on the inside of my thigh, with white bubbles of fat beneath.
‘Oh my God,’ I wailed, horrified.
A paramedic soothed me and bandaged up the injury as best as possible.
The pain was excruciating.
After a three-hour drive, we arrived at hospital, and I was rushed into emergency surgery.
When I woke up in recovery, I was groggy from the anaesthetic.
My legs were entirely wrapped in bandages.
It wasn’t long before the surgeon came to see me.
‘You’ve been very lucky,’ she said gravely. ‘The lion’s incisor tooth punctured your knee cap and grazed your femoral artery. If he’d turned his head, you’d have lost the leg below the knee.’
Over the next couple of days, I waited in hospital for my mum to fly over.
I was bedbound and had no phone or internet connection.
One of the nurses brought me a book of Sudoku to keep me occupied.
When Mum finally arrived, she burst into tears.
‘I was so worried,’ she said, hugging me close.
My travel insurance provided physiotherapy for two weeks after the accident.
After that I was up and about, though I walked with a slight limp.
I flew back home to attend university that autumn, just as I’d planned.
To my frustration, newspapers at the time wrongly reported I’d been trying to kiss the lions.
But there wasn’t much I could do other than move on with my life.
Now, years later, my scars have mostly faded.
I don’t know if Duma and Tree are still at the sanctuary, but another volunteer told me the barred gate has been replaced.
I’m definitely still an animal lover, but I’m also more cautious.
Still, I don’t blame the lions — they’re wild animals and were only acting on instinct.
Lauren Fagan, 28