Not only are these incidents unconscionable in their own right, but they also intensify local opposition to conservation. The Game Rangers Association of Africa has expressed concern about foreign soldiers, military veterans, and private security experts jetting in to train rangers without any understanding of the ecological or social context. The small towns surrounding Hluhluwe seem like bustling cities compared to the scattered traditional homesteads around Somkhanda. None of these households have electricity, and most have no running water.
Many people have little reason to speak much English, and after a couple of days I begin to curse my pathetic elementary-school isiZulu. This tiny reserve is trying to do things differently. The Gumbi community-owned reserve, run in partnership with the nonprofit Wildlands Conservation Trust, employs around people, offers training and internships, and runs education programs for local children, trying to cultivate a love for the bush.
When I arrive at Somkhanda, the young ranger guarding the gate shoots me a few stern questions. While I wait for him to phone park headquarters to confirm whether he should allow me in, I eye a large sign outside the reserve gate. IPSS, a private security company, offers a range of services around the province, including anti-poaching units and residential armed response. Within a few minutes of entering the park, I've seen giraffes, zebras, warthogs, and even a small herd of African buffalo. As I pass them, one wet-nosed bull watches me balefully, a calf sheltering behind him.
On this smaller, cozier reserve, I hope my rhino-spotting luck will improve. But the rhinos tantalize me, continually lurking just out of sight. The rhino tracks Myeni spots on patrol with his anti-poaching unit lead to nothing. During an early-morning drive with the wildlife-monitoring team, we hop out of the truck, breath misting as we squint into the bright sunrise, and follow more rhino tracks—nothing.
He chuckles at my trepidation. If she charges me, I ask, what should I do? My eagerness to see the rhino begins to override my sense of self-preservation, but when I mention the plan to the reserve manager, Meiring Prinsloo, he shuts it down immediately.
No rhino tracking for me—from the vantage point of a tree or otherwise. The young black rhino scheduled for dehorning will go through many throughout her life, all intended to protect her from her own dangerously precious cargo.
Since rhino horn is made of keratin, like fingernails and hair, horns grow back quickly. To protect a rhino from the poaching that could target even the tiniest stump, dehorning should ideally happen every year or two. Bigger parks, like Hluhluwe-iMfolozi and the Kruger National Park, have held off on the pricey and difficult venture of dehorning their huge rhino populations, although Kruger has recently started dehorning some of its female rhinos.
The supportive community is another line of defense: Local people, invested in the reserve and its benefits, are less inclined to harbor poachers, and a strong network of informants tips off the reserve if a syndicate is operating in the area. Informers told reserve staff about the poachers they apprehended last year. We join the small crowd that has descended on the reserve for the event: two wildlife vets, a helicopter pilot, a WWF representative, a gaggle of trainee vets from Canada, and a team of assorted staff, volunteers, and spectators.
The Canadian trainee vets pass around a bottle of sunscreen and solicit restaurant recommendations for their upcoming trip to Cape Town. Finally, after hours of waiting, the call comes: The trackers have temporarily given up on the rhino they were supposed to find—but they have her younger sister in sight, and the vet is primed with his dart gun in the helicopter, ready to pump her full of opioids and tranquilizers.
The decision is quickly made to dehorn this young rhino instead of her elusive big sister. The sleepy mood disappears abruptly. The crowd of staff and spectators sprints for the trucks, and I leap onto the back of a vehicle that is already moving. After a short, wild ride, we spot the helicopter hovering ahead. On foot, we hurtle through the bush to find the rhino already unconscious, the large dart sticking out of her rump.
She seems strangely fragile. Her skin is hot and leathery, but butter-soft near her mouth. She heaves six great sighs per minute. When her blindfold shifts, I see that her eyes are slightly open, and flickering. It feels like she is watching us, helplessly, while we attack her in a way she cannot possibly understand. Read: The last male northern white rhino is dead.
Dehorned rhinos never recover their characteristic silhouette: Regrown horns are lumpy and misshapen, too thick at the top.
In seconds, they are gone. As the vet uses the chainsaw, and then an angle grinder to shave down the remaining stump, a stream of white, fingernail-like shavings flies at me. While the vet is working, someone shoves the horns into my hands, asking me to pass them along to another staff member. They are smooth and surprisingly small, the weight of dense wood.
In this crowd, they have no value; they will be unceremoniously thrown into a backpack. Soon, Prinsloo tells me, they will leave Somkhanda and be taken to be stored indefinitely in an off-site vault.
Somewhere along the way, they will become valuable enough to kill for, and die for. T he would-be rhino poachers apprehended at Somkhanda in March were not from the area—one was from Mozambique, and the other was South African but not local, according to Prinsloo. But locals do hunt illegally on the reserve. On my patrol with Myeni and his anti-poaching unit, one of the rangers notices a snare, probably intended to catch bushmeat.
One afternoon, the unit calls in a gruesome discovery: a field of critically endangered white-backed vulture corpses, poisoned by feeding on a baited impala carcass.
Fifteen vultures are already dead when we arrive, and although the vets frantically try to save the four survivors, two more die within hours.
The goal was probably to harvest their heads for use in local traditional medicine , says the senior ranger Nkosinathi Mbhele. Use your social media accounts to create awareness. Looking for organizations that are dedicated to protecting these animals and supporting them such as with anti-rhino poaching donations, is another way to help. Created in , the International Anti-Poaching Foundation has taken an effective, comprehensive approach to conversation, including helping to prevent the poaching of rhinos.
Rather than taking an adversarial approach to end poaching, it has developed a model that is innovative and empowering for the women who participate in it. Our animal conservation organization works not only as a rhino anti-poaching organization to help stop this practice but to empower indigenous communities one woman at a time.
IAPF starts at the local level, working with local residents. The foundation trains, educates and empowers women to become rangers.
As women develop the necessary skills to support themselves and their children, they develop confidence. They become empowered. This affects the community in a variety of ways.
It encourages children to remain in school, improves health care, helps reduce poverty and disease, increases life expectancy and supports structured family planning. Our programs work and the money we raise is used to help support conservation efforts, protecting elephants and building communities. By empowering local communities to protect their land and the elephants that call it home, we not only reduce rhino poaching but enhance the communities that live alongside them.
We work to protect wildlife but develop and enhance these communities as we empower women and their families. There are many ways in which you can help protect rhinos and further our mission. Please contact us for more information or make a donation to our wildlife conservation charity. Shop NEW! February 4, What Is Rhino Poaching? Understanding Rhinos and Their Behavior There are five species of rhinos — the Sumatran rhino, the Java rhino, the black rhino, the greater one-horned rhino and the white rhino.
Why Do People Poach Rhinos? Sign up to get news straight from the field. You'll get insider updates on all our work to save Africa's most beautiful animals. By clicking 'Subscribe" I accept the terms and conditions of the privacy policy and consent to receive email updates and news from IAPF.
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We promise never to share your email address without your permission, and you can unsubscribe at any time — please view our privacy policy. Poching Statistics for South Africa. Rhino Poaching Numbers The poaching statistics for the last decade make for grim reading. Why are rhino being poached? What is the rhino horn used for? Other threats to rhino The other most significant threat to rhinos is habitat loss.
Another threat to rhino is war In areas where law enforcement is reduced or non-existent, particularly in war zones where there is political instability or corruption, protection for rhinos is usually reduced or non-existent. What can you do to help? Website Terms and Conditions Privacy Policy. First Name. Last Name. Thank you for your support. From the Helping Rhinos Team.
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