Unfortunately, the solution to these problems is invariably multifactorial. They involve predicting an outcome that will only be able to be proven after it has been committed to and is impossible to undo. Get it wrong, and you are faced with a new problem, which may be worse, perhaps catastrophically so, than the first.
So is legalizing the trade of rhino horn the answer? Three years on, I was more sceptical. In 2001, three rhinos were poached in the whole of South Africa, in 2016 nearly three rhinos were being poached every day, an unsustainable increase that will see the species extinct in twenty-five years if something dramatic isn’t done to stop it. So what has led to this exponential increase? For hundreds of years the horn of this exotic creature from lands far away has been believed to possess medicinal properties, ranging from curing rheumatism, gout and typhoid, to snakebites, food poisoning and even cancer. With the increase of wealth in Asia, more and more people purchase rhino horn as a status symbol, simply to show that they can, and thus the demand has increased dramatically. The current annual global demand for rhino horn is estimated at around 16 million tonnes, and it is thought that there are around 40 million tonnes stockpiled in vaults from animals that have been legally dehorned for their protection. If the trade were legalized, this stockpile could be used to supply the market and thus reduce the poaching demand. But there are two possible fallouts from this. Poaching would indeed be reduced as this stockpile replaced it, but it would be used up more quickly than it could be replenished. The current stockpile has taken fifteen years to accumulate, and once used, at present levels of demand, poaching would return to the same level as before. Alternatively, poaching levels might remain high as legal horn hit the market, the sale price of it would then fall, making it affordable to a wider population, thus increasing the demand from 16 million tonnes a year to maybe 20 million or even more. It takes about eighteen months for 1 kilogram of horn to grow on an adult rhino, and it is estimated that there are 29,000 rhinos left in the wild, so the current demand is impossible to match sustainably with these numbers. Two things need to be achieved: the current demand needs to decrease, and the birth rate of rhino calves needs to exceed the rate at which they are being killed.
Legalizing the trade of rhino horn may be one component of the answer, but education and awareness have to penetrate the heart of these communities too.
When we arrived at the farm, we parked some distance from the bomas (enclosures) where the rhinos were kept at night. Lisa, who ran the sanctuary, greeted us. She had obviously been crying, and composed herself as she politely met us, but as soon as she made eye contact with Derik the tears started flowing again. There was a deep, raw, emotional grief shared between the two of them, almost like that of bereaved parents. As they hugged, the grief turned to anger as Lisa exploded in a burst of Afrikaans that we didn’t need translating to comprehend. Lisa had been heading up this secure, highly confidential sanctuary for nearly ten years. The sanctuary served two purposes: as a safe house that rhinos could be moved to when a reserve was hit by poaching, and as a place that rehabilitated and cared for rhinos that had suffered injury from poaching. The work Lisa and her team did was invaluable in the fight against the seemingly unstoppable force of the poaching cartels. But all of this was now severely threatened. The tragedy of Sabi was utterly devastating for all those involved, but the wider implications for the sanctuary were completely shattering; every remaining rhino was at extreme risk of a similar fate, and it was now a race against time to come up with a strategy to protect them.
The police and forensic teams were already at work combing the area for clues. We could see them in the distance: it was going to take some time to complete their task and until then we had to keep well clear for fear of contaminating the crime scene. Our attention was quickly drawn to an enclosure close to the house, containing two rhino calves that couldn’t have been more than a few months old. Like magnets, we were irresistably drawn to them. Having regained her composure and assuming the role of hostess, Lisa followed us.
‘These are Sethemba and Isibindi. Their names mean “hope” and “courage” in Zulu. Both of their mothers were killed by poachers. Sethemba had her ears hacked off in the process and Isibindi had several deep wounds to her head and side caused by machetes. It’s a common occurrence. The poachers view these young calves as a nuisance, so they try to scare them off and attack them wildly. Sometimes they kill them, but more often they are just severely maimed.’ She paused for a moment, collecting her thoughts. ‘So strong is the mother–calf bond that despite the extreme trauma they suffer, they are always found together in the morning. Often it is apparent that the mother has used every last ounce of her strength to protect her offspring, dragging her mutilated body through the bush to where her calf has retreated to shelter. The mothers rarely survive the night due to the extent of their injuries, so in the morning the calves are usually found nuzzling their mother’s head, crying for her to get up and confused about why she hasn’t. I don’t think there can be a more distressing sight in all of nature than a baby mourning its mother. Their high-pitched squeak or whine cuts right through you. You’d have to be inhuman not to weep.’
As we surveyed the two little rhinos, seemingly happy and content charging around, playing with each other, oblivious to our watching eyes, it was hard to comprehend the suffering that they had already endured in their short lives. What more did they have to face? How would the situation play out for their species? Their generation exists at a critical time: will they see their extinction averted or will they both just become two more gruesome poaching statistics as the species is eradicated by human greed?
A further two hours passed before the forensic team had finished their work. The senior police officer strode over to Lisa’s house where we had been waiting. He engaged Lisa and Derik in a long conversation in Afrikaans, obviously explaining the team’s findings. Although we were unable to understand the details, their expressions gave us a stark insight into what they were hearing. It was as if they were hearing the last movements of a gallant son killed in action. Grief, anger, despair and guilt were all there on their faces.
We later learned the full story of what had happened. There had been a full moon. Poaching goes up threefold on a full moon because of the increased visibility. There had been two perpetrators, and all the evidence indicated that they were very familiar with the set-up at the enclosures and with Sabi himself. The tracks led directly to Sabi’s enclosure. They had known exactly which animal they were going for and where he would be. It had been an inside job. Geoff’s words echoed in my head from three years before: ‘You can’t trust anyone in this game.’ Standing at the inside feeding hatch, they had lured Sabi into his shelter with food, and then shot him twice in the head at point-blank range. However, these first shots didn’t kill him, and instead he turned in fright to flee. The poachers then shot him three more times: the first in the top of his neck, the second across his mid-spine, and the third into the side of his head. He had managed to stumble 10 feet out of his shelter before he had finally collapsed and died.
It was in a sombre and apprehensive mood that we made our way to the enclosure, trying to picture in our minds the scene that would greet us, so that we could mentally prepare ourselves. Nothing could prepare us for it, though.
We walked into the boma from the end furthest from the shelter. Several members of the police and forensic teams were still gathered around Sabi, obscuring most of his body, so all we could initially see were his hindquarters. From that angle he could have just been another anaesthetized rhino. Moving round the enclosure, we could see glimpses of bright red contrasted against his dark grey skin. But it was when the party gathered around Sabi noticed our arrival and turned to greet us that we saw the full extent of the horror. The front of his head had been hacked off, from below his eyes to above his nose. Where his nose and two horns should have been was now just a mess of bone, blood and tissue. Congealed blood covered the sides of what remained of his face. There was one solitary marker protruding from a bullet wound on the side of his head, from which a trickle of blood had run. The marker indicated the fatal shot. An additional and unexpected cause of revulsion was the exposed mess of bony flesh where the right foot should have been. We found out later that because of an increasing trade in fake rhino horn, it was now commonplace for the poachers to hack off a leg as well, as evidence that the horn had indeed come from a rhino.