There are some people whose lives seem quietly, almost inevitably, drawn toward Africa, as though something in them recognised its rhythm long before they ever set foot on its soil. Kim Colson is one of those people.
We learned during her wedding ceremony that Kim’s love affair with Africa began as early as memory allows, from the moment she could tell the difference between a lion and a rhino. It is the sort of detail that feels small at first, until you realise it has shaped the course of an entire life. Today, she is the founder of Spotted, a boutique French tour company, and for nearly a decade she has been guiding small, curious groups of travellers through this landscape, returning again and again to Khaya Ndlovu Safari Manor, a place that, over time, became something more than just a destination.
And so, it felt only fitting that she chose to be married here.
On a warm Lowveld afternoon, beneath the mottled shade of a Marula tree just below the lodge, Kim arrived in a simple, elegant dress, unpretentious and entirely in keeping with the wild beauty around her. As if Africa itself had received the invitation, a small gathering of zebra and wildebeest wandered into the open ground near the waterhole moments before the ceremony began, grazing quietly. They had every right to be there.
Two of Kim’s closest friends told the story of her and François, their early lives, the chance meeting, and the steady unfolding of an eight-year love affair that had led them here, to this exact patch of earth. As their voices carried through the trees, a group of giraffes appeared at through the trees, their long-necked silhouettes moving with that slow, deliberate grace. They paused, watching. It was almost too perfect. Spotted, after all, was Kim’s creation, and here stood her namesake audience, cloaked in their dappled coats, quietly bearing witness.
And yet, language hardly mattered in the end. The emotion carried it all. By the time the vows were spoken and the final words delivered, there was not a dry eye among the guests, a quiet, collective surrender to a moment that felt both deeply personal and somehow shared by everyone present.
And then, just as gracefully as it had begun, the formality slipped away.
To the unmistakable, joyful notes of Hakuna Matata, Kim and François came bounding down the bushveld aisle, laughter replacing ceremony, tears of joy giving way to broad, carefree smiles, and setting the tone for the evening ahead. What followed was a celebration that managed to be both exuberant and effortlessly stylish. Cape Town–based DJ and saxophonist Ravien Hunter wove jazz into familiar rhythms, his saxophone lifting the music into something richer, warmer. Floating candles shimmered across the infinity pool, and beneath the vast African sky, guests danced. At times it felt as though the night had drifted somewhere far beyond the bushveld, perhaps onto a yacht in the Caribbean, carried there by music and mood alone.
Dinner, prepared by the Khaya chefs, was a feast in its own right, generous, thoughtful, and quietly grounding amidst the revelry.
The following afternoon, Africa delivered one final flourish. A game drive that seemed almost scripted in its abundance; leopard, cheetah, lions, wild dogs, and both black and white rhino all revealed within the span of a few remarkable hours. It was the kind of drive that reminds even the most seasoned traveller why they came.
But, as ever, Africa reserves the right to change the plan.
As the vehicles made their way home, the heavens opened. The guests, elegant just moments before, returned delightfully bedraggled, rain-soaked and laughing. The carefully planned boma dinner was swiftly abandoned in favour of a rapid relocation to the sky deck. It was, for a moment, controlled chaos, but handled with the quiet competence of a team well used to the unexpected. By the time the guests had dried off and changed, the evening had been entirely reborn.
And so, the celebration continued.
Durban-based musician and Instagram favourite Tanner Wareham closed the weekend with his own rendition of Hakuna Matata, a familiar refrain now, one that seemed to echo the spirit of the days that had passed.
Because in the end, Kim’s wedding was more than just a beautiful event. It was a reflection of the life she has built, one that moves fluidly between worlds, between languages, between the wild and the refined. A life shaped by Africa but never trying to tame it.
And perhaps that is the secret.
Not to control the experience, nor to expect it to unfold in any particular way but to allow it to move, as it will, from stillness to celebration, from tears to laughter because here, the magic is never staged.
It simply appears.
