Instead of office work, the group of 19 women fans out around the national park daily, driving, educating, and safeguarding lodge guests from around the world.

Mangwegape, dressed in crisp green khakis with a red, elephant print scarf tied around her neck, is acutely attuned to the surrounding wildlife. She gracefully navigates narrow dirt roads little more than the width of the truck, weaving around spindly branches while stopping to examine old leopard tracks, point out a tiny dung beetle, or make way for a flock of helmeted guinea fowl, affectionately known as Chobe chickens, that cross our path.

One moment we were surrounded by elephants gently flapping their massive ears, trunks snapping up grasses and pungent wild basil. “This is Chobe for you,” she tells my fellow guests and me. “You’ll never be close to an elephant like this elsewhere.”

Unflappable and empathetic, Mangwegape observes the herd closely, and when one juvenile gets a little too bold, stepping close to our truck, the guide starts the engine so the sound deters him instantly. “Being in the bush, you listen, you smell,” she says. “Animals clue you in to what’s happening.”

The all-female guide team didn’t happen by accident. The driving force behind the Chobe Angels initiative was Johan Bruwer, the lodge’s general manager. When Bruwer took the role in 2004, the lodge employed just one female guide. Noting guests’ overwhelmingly positive reactions to her expertise and approach, the manager sought to hire more women—and was surprised to encounter stark cultural resistance and widespread skepticism.