We’re sitting quietly in our safari jeep, not uttering a word or moving a muscle. Our eyes are the only things moving as we watch a lion feed on his prey under the tree canopy—his backside facing us. We can see tufts of his mane as he moves his head back and forth, crunching bones and shredding flesh.
Normally, watching something like this on National Geographic (or any nature program, really) would gross me out or make me cover my face. But not today. Today, I’m mesmerized.
We keep watching this majestic beast, silently praying he’ll turn around and come out from under the cover of the trees. Our cameras sit poised in our laps, ready to capture what could be an epic moment.
Just when I think, he’s never going to leave and this is the closest we’re going to get, he stands up, grabs his impala carcass (which was definitely not freshly caught, based on the severe stench we experienced as he walked by), turns his head, and begins sauntering toward us.
HOLY SHIT.
Our guide quietly reminds us to stay calm, not make sudden moves, and whatever we do… don’t stand up. Now, I’m not typically great at rule-following or being quiet, but I can tell you—I didn’t move an inch or utter a single word. The only things moving on my body were my eyes as I tracked this magnificent creature…and the sweat rolling down my back as we baked in the South African sun.
As the lion approached the backside of our jeep (he was about 15–20 feet away—but if you’re in the wild, without a gun, and a lion is walking anywhere near you, he could be 1,000 feet away and it would still feel unsafe), I realized I wasn’t breathing.
I was in complete awe.
Seeing a male lion on safari in South Africa—a trip I’d always dreamed about—was actually happening.
At one point, my friend Michelle moved slightly to get a better shot, and as she lifted her arm, she caught the lion’s attention. He turned and looked right at us, his limp impala carcass hanging from his mouth, and suddenly my fear dissipated while my sense of awe amplified.
All I could think was: I can’t believe I’m really here, experiencing this… this is a moment I’ll never forget.
As we watched the lion saunter toward the sunset (cue the Lion King song here), our breathing started to return to normal… and for some of us, we actually started to breathe again. We looked at each other in pure amazement.
Then suddenly, something bolted from a tree about 500 feet away from where we first saw the lion.
Several audible gasps filled the jeep as a leopard appeared on the left side of us.
She was beautiful.
Her soft fur (no one was interested in getting close enough to verify the softness, just to be clear) was covered in a spotted pattern from head to toe. Her movements were graceful, yet cautious, as she walked over to where the lion had been—her head on a constant swivel.
The leopard managed to find a few scraps and then decided to quickly depart in case the lion came back. She paused in front of us briefly, and once again we were all mesmerized. (And I’m pretty sure she wanted her picture taken, too.) Then she lunged, jumped into a nearby tree, and settled in for her impala snack.
We watched her lounging in the tree for a few more minutes, and then decided it was time to head back to camp—every single one of us chattering a mile a minute about what we’d just witnessed.
Personally, I was on cloud nine and didn’t know if I’d ever come down.
At that point, I remember thinking: If we see nothing else on this safari (which was not the case), I would be completely content. Because that was an amazing, once-in-a-lifetime experience.
Little did I know… it was just the beginning of what would become an incredible adventure—and a trip that would forever change me.
My Conservation Journey in South Africa
A safari in South Africa has been on my bucket list since I was a young girl. I’ve always loved animals (except for snakes) and have been passionate about helping save them (just ask my parents about all the animals I took in… or my husband about the dogs I’ve tried to adopt).
Little did I know I’d have an opportunity to do both: go on safari in South Africa and do something to help the animals there.
Michelle and I stumbled upon Discover Corps when I was Googling “vacations with purpose.” Their name popped up at the top of the search, and within minutes of reading about their trips (in Africa and all over the world), I knew this was it. I copied their URL and texted it to Michelle, crossing my fingers she’d be interested.
She was.
We spent the next few weeks going back and forth about Tanzania versus South Africa. We originally landed on Tanzania—but after much discussion (and a few glasses of wine), we chose the South Africa Animal Conservation trip because we both LOVE animals and were genuinely intrigued by the idea of helping track and monitor leopards through the Ingwe Research Program—the “purpose” part of “unforgettable vacations with purpose.”
And I’m so glad we did.
The Ingwe Research Program and the Leopard We Didn’t Expect to See
If lions are the headline animals, leopards are the ones that haunt the margins—beautiful, elusive, and so good at disappearing that it’s easy to assume they’re doing “just fine.”
They’re not.
Leopards are listed as Vulnerable, and conservation groups point to a population reduction of more than 30% driven by habitat loss, prey depletion, and human pressure. That’s part of why the work of the Ingwe Research Program matters so much—because they focus on monitoring leopards where life is messiest: outside protected areas, in high-conflict landscapes where people, roads, farms, and wildlife are all trying to coexist.
One of the things I loved about Ingwe is how practical (and honestly, kind of genius) their approach is. They combine real fieldwork—like camera traps and evidence like spoor and scat—with technology and citizen science so everyday people can help build a clearer picture of where leopards are, how they move, and what threats they’re facing.
And on our Discover Corps trip, we got to be part of that in a hands-on way.
Setting camera traps with Aiden (aka: my brief career as a leopard paparazzo)
On the second day of our trip, we set up three camera traps for the Ingwe Research Program in the Wild Rivers Nature Reserve (which is also where we stayed for the first part of our trip). And I’ll just say it: I’d HIGHLY recommend staying at The Rukiya Safari Camp—the people and accommodations were amazing.
During our afternoon safari, Aiden helped us place the camera traps. It wasn’t as simple as “strap it to a tree and hope for the best.” We had to think like a leopard (which, turns out, is harder than it looks).
We talked through placement—near water sources, along travel paths, in natural funnels—plus the practical details: height, angle, and how to position the camera so it captures a clear image without being bumped, mauled, or “redecorated” by curious wildlife.
(Because nothing says “field research” like an animal casually body-checking your equipment.)
A couple days later, we went back to retrieve the traps… and unfortunately, we didn’t capture a leopard on the cameras.
Which felt like a bummer for about five minutes.
Because we did see a leopard in real life—one we learned hadn’t been tagged/identified in Ingwe’s database yet, which was pretty cool.
The part that blew my mind: AI that recognizes individual leopards
Here’s where Ingwe gets especially cool: guides, lodges, residents, and visitors can upload leopard photos, and those images are run through AI-assisted systems to help determine whether it’s an individual leopard they’ve seen before—or a brand-new one.
Leopards aren’t identified by a collar or tag the way we might imagine. They’re identified by what they’re born with: their unique spot patterns (and other visual markers), kind of like nature’s fingerprint system.
And that matters because once you know who a leopard is, you can start to understand where they go, what corridors they rely on, and where they’re most at risk.
And standing there, knowing we were looking at a leopard that might be “new” to the data… it made the whole thing feel real. Not just a conservation concept. Not just a presentation.
A living, breathing animal with a territory, a pattern, a story—and a very real need for humans to do better by the wild places we’ve carved up.
Seeing South African Animals in the Wild
We had the opportunity to go on several early morning safaris (and by early, I mean up at 4:30 AM and on the road by 5:00 AM) and a few late afternoon/early evening safaris (which were super cool and a little freaky in the dark… especially when we saw a puff adder snake—one of the most deadly snakes 🤢).
Aiden taught us how to track animals and educated us on everything we saw along the way.
Here’s a quick list of what we saw: hippos, rhinos, elephants, giraffes, zebras (which they pronounce zehb-bra), impala, antelopes (klipspringer, sable, kudu), lions, hyenas, monkeys, baboons, leopards, alligators, warthogs, vultures, storks (which are actually quite scary looking), snakes (fortunately… I only saw two and none of them were in my bedroom—thank God), and countless birds.
And when I say we saw them… it wasn’t from far away. We got extremely close to many of them, which made the trip feel even more special.
One day, we encountered an adolescent male elephant who had wandered away from his herd and ended up separated from them by our jeep. When Aiden realized what was happening, he quickly moved our vehicle as far over as possible to give the elephant room to pass.
I was seated in the back with Michelle, so the elephant was very close to us. We watched in awe as he timidly stomped forward… then stomped backward… then forward again… visibly torn about what to do.
That’s when Aiden spoke to him softly: “It’s okay, you can pass,” repeating it while making slow, gentle sweeping gestures with his arm.
And it worked.
The elephant finally moved forward, took a few steps, and then practically ran past us to catch up with his herd—looking back the whole time to make sure he wasn’t in danger.
Little did he know, when he reached his herd, he’d have to face his furious mama. She trumpeted loudly, startling him so badly that he turned back toward us for a brief moment before deciding to slink back to his mom to accept his punishment.
It was relatable as the mother of two boys myself.
But my favorite part of that experience was watching the kindness and respect Aiden showed that elephant—and how the elephant responded. It warmed my heart and made me grateful for people like Aiden, who truly love and respect these animals and are passionate about protecting them.
Unfortunately, for every Aiden in South Africa, there are people who see these animals as dollar signs.
And that’s where the hard part of this story comes in.
What I Learned About Poaching in South Africa (and Why It Hit Me So Hard)
Before this trip, if you would’ve asked me what “poaching” looks like, I probably would’ve pictured the headlines we see in the U.S.—rhinos for their horns, elephants for their tusks.
And yes, that’s absolutely happening.
But I learned quickly that poaching in South Africa is so much bigger than those two animals.
Because a lot of poaching isn’t even about trophies or horns at all.
It’s about meat. It’s about snares. It’s about animals you don’t see splashed across social media with a “Save Them” hashtag—antelopes, warthogs… even predators that aren’t the target but get caught in the wrong place at the wrong time.
It can be commercial—meat sold, traded, trafficked. And in many cases, it’s connected to organized crime networks that treat wildlife like inventory.
That was one of the most surprising (and honestly, gutting) things we learned: education alone isn’t enough anymore. Not because education doesn’t matter—it does.
But because in many cases, the people doing the worst damage aren’t making a desperate one-time decision… they’re participating in something planned, funded, coordinated, and extremely hard to stop with good intentions alone.
The part that still makes my stomach turn: snares
One of the most heartbreaking things we learned came from the anti-poaching unit and K-9 ranger team.
Snares are deceptively simple—wire loops that are cheap to make, easy to hide, and brutally effective. A poacher might set 10 or 12 snares in one area, move to another area and set more, and ideally come back to check them.
But here’s the part I didn’t fully understand until I was standing there hearing it firsthand:
If the poacher gets spooked—if someone catches on, if rangers are nearby, if there’s risk—they may abandon the entire area. And they don’t go back to collect the snares.
So the snare just… sits there. Waiting.
And an animal—any animal—can step into it. Not instantly killed. Not quickly. They can be trapped for hours… days… terrified, dehydrated, injured, trying to pull free while the wire tightens more and more.
It’s silent. It’s hidden. And it’s agonizing.
The “full circle” moment I can’t stop thinking about
One day on safari, we came up and over a hill. We’d learned to call out “stop left!” or “stop right!” if we spotted an animal we wanted Aiden to pause for.
As we started heading down, I caught something out of the corner of my eye and yelled “stop right!” Aiden hit the brakes, and there to my right—no exaggeration—was a hyena maybe five feet away, tucked under a tree, casually crunching bones like he paid rent there.
He knew we were there. He didn’t panic. He wasn’t threatened. He just… kept eating.
And the longer I watched, the more I noticed something that made my heart drop.
Around his neck were deep indentations—places where the fur was gone and the skin had healed in a way that told a story without words.
He had been caught in a snare.
And in that moment, everything we’d heard—the stories, the warnings, the heartbreak—stopped being “information” and became… real. Not in a rehab center. Not in a presentation.
Out there in the wild, right in front of me.
Aiden explained that if guides see an animal actively snared or injured, they’re encouraged to call it in. In many cases, vets can fly in, tranquilize the animal, treat the injury as best they can, and release them back into the bush.
That blew my mind—because it reminded me there’s another side to this story. Yes, there’s cruelty and greed and organized crime.
But there are also people doing the most compassionate, courageous work behind the scenes to give these animals a fighting chance.
Why Conservation in South Africa Matters (for the Animals, the People, and All of Us)
It’s easy to think of South African wildlife as something that belongs “over there”—a beautiful bucket-list experience—and then we fly home and go back to normal life.
But these animals aren’t just incredible to look at.
They’re part of a living system—and each one plays a role that affects everything around it.
Elephants are ecosystem engineers. They shape habitat and disperse seeds across huge distances. Rhinos help shape the landscape and influence plant growth. Predators help keep systems stable by affecting behavior and population pressure—which affects vegetation, which affects everything else downstream.
Nature is basically the world’s most complicated domino setup.
And conservation isn’t only about animals. It’s about people.
Healthy wildlife populations support local jobs and communities—guides, trackers, lodge staff, conservation teams, veterinarians, educators, and small businesses. When animals disappear, it’s not only the species that suffers. Entire communities feel it.
And then there’s the global piece: the illegal wildlife trade isn’t just tragic—it’s tied to larger criminal networks, corruption, and instability. So this isn’t simply a “sad animal story.”
It’s a human story too.
What I want you to take from this
I used to think caring was enough. Like if enough people cared, the problem would sort itself out.
Now I realize: caring is the start.
Caring turns into action when we support boots-on-the-ground work, share what we learn so truth spreads faster than myths, choose ethical wildlife experiences, and invest in solutions that match the size of the problem.
Because the truth is… these animals don’t get to opt out of this. They don’t get to “be careful.” They don’t get a second chance if the wire tightens one more notch.
They need humans to show up for them—consistently, loudly, and with more than thoughts and prayers (and yes, I said it 😅).
If this section makes your chest feel tight the way mine did, don’t scroll past it. There are organizations doing real work—right now—and even small support can make a difference.
Four Anti-Poaching Organizations (and the Work That Gave Me Hope)
I’m one of those people whose heart breaks when I see any form of animal cruelty—to the point that I still won’t watch the movie Annie because of how those kids treated her dog. I also Google “does the dog die” before I watch basically any dog-focused movie.
So I knew hearing about and seeing the effects of poaching, snaring, and canned hunting was going to break my heart.
But if I hadn’t heard the stories and seen the impact firsthand, I don’t think this trip would’ve changed me the way it did.
While we were there, we had the opportunity to meet four organizations that have made it their life’s mission to love and protect South Africa’s animals.
1) The HERD Sanctuary
The first organization we visited was The HERD Sanctuary. HERD (Hoedspruit Elephant Rehabilitation and Development) was founded in 2019 as South Africa’s first dedicated elephant orphanage. Tiger, HERD’s ambassador, shared the history of this unique sanctuary and several heartwarming stories about its resident elephants and how they were saved.
Afterwards, we met three of their oldest resident elephants: Jabulani, Somopane, and Sebakwe.
We took turns feeding them and interacting with them while Tiger and the other handlers shared stories and answered our questions. We learned Jabulani is quite the mischief-maker (he was once a ring bearer in a wedding… and took a chomp out of the bride’s bouquet at the end of the aisle), and we witnessed his personality firsthand when he put his trunk up my dress and slimed Michelle.
Meeting and interacting with these gentle giants was definitely one of the highlights of my trip.
2) Down to the Wire
Our next stop was Down to the Wire, where we met siblings Lily and Troy. They created a small business that funds animal rescues and increases awareness of snaring and poaching through their custom jewelry—made from actual snares that had been used to trap wildlife.
Their belief is simple and powerful: every snare removed is a life saved.
Their mission is to:
- recycle snares to prevent them from being reused for harm
- cover vital medical costs for animals injured in snares
- educate the public about the devastating impact of snare poaching
During our time there, we heard remarkable stories about animals that were saved because of their efforts… and heartbreaking stories about animals they weren’t able to save. They also showed us how poachers use snares and what they’re typically made of.
Unfortunately, one reason snaring is so prevalent is because snares are inexpensive to make, highly effective, and the consequences often aren’t enough to discourage repeat offenders.
3) K9 Conservation
The third group we visited was one of the most eye-opening and inspiring experiences of the entire trip. We had the privilege of meeting the owner of K9 Conservation, Conraad De Rosner, along with an elite ranger and K9 trainer, Nick Duranty, and his dog, Nitus.
Their function is to aid game reserves and protected areas by patrolling with K9 units looking for poachers.
They showed us the tactical gear they and their dogs wear, and they shared terrifying stories about poachers they’ve captured and dogs they’ve lost.
Then—because apparently we weren’t already in awe—Nick and Nitus gave a demonstration of how their dogs are trained to sniff out ammunition. Nick hid bullets all around us, retrieved Nitus, gave the command, and within a minute or two… Nitus found every single one.
Unbelievable.
What I can tell you is that these guys are incredibly humble and extremely passionate. They are heroes of the truest kind. Conraad’s unit consists of 60 rangers and 40 dogs, and they find an average of 400–700 snares a month.
The work they’re doing—along with other canine anti-poaching units—is making a difference. According to the Southern African Wildlife College, canine anti-poaching units have become a critical, high-impact tool, with tracking dogs increasing apprehension rates from 3–5% to over 54% in key areas.
4) Moholoholo Wildlife Rehabilitation Centre
The last organization we visited was the Moholoholo Wildlife Rehabilitation Centre in Hoedspruit. Their mission is simple yet powerful: rescue, rehabilitate, and release wild animals while educating the public about conservation. From injured birds of prey to orphaned mammals, Moholoholo provides expert care and a second chance at freedom.
Moholoholo stands for “The Very Great One.” This center treats many poisoned and injured animals and is also involved in problem animal control on farms and in tribal areas.
They house a wide range of animals—from white lions (absolutely gorgeous), black panthers, wild dogs, warthogs, cheetahs… and one of my new favorite animals, the Southern Ground Hornbill (who tried to pass me a rock through the fence—apparently a sign he was looking for a mate, and if I took the rock, that meant I agreed to be his mate. Aww 💕).
While we were there, we learned about mass poisonings—where poachers poison an animal’s carcass after taking what they want, specifically to kill the vultures that come to feed. The goal is to keep vultures from circling overhead and alerting rangers or nearby communities that something is wrong.
We also learned about canned hunting, and I’ll be honest—it left me feeling sick to my stomach. It’s when animals, most often lions, are bred or kept in captivity and later hunted in enclosed areas where they have little to no real chance of escape. What surprised me is how often it’s connected to “tourism experiences” that look harmless on the surface: cub petting, bottle-feeding, “walking with lions,” even volunteer programs that suggest the cubs are part of conservation or will be released one day (they typically can’t be).
As the lions get bigger, many are moved along this profit pipeline—ending up in hunting facilities, and sometimes their bones and other body parts are sold into legal and illegal trade. These lions are often hand-reared and habituated to humans, which means they don’t fear people the way a wild lion would—making them heartbreakingly easy targets when the time comes.
And then we met Marlow and Champaign—two white lion brothers—who made it all feel painfully real. They were rescued as cubs in 2021 from the canned hunting industry, and now they live at the center as ambassadors. Seeing them safe and cared for was comforting… but knowing what they were rescued from is what stayed with me.
Reflections (and What I’m Doing With This Now
My trip to South Africa started as a bucket list dream—a trip I’d wanted to take since I was a young girl—but it became so much more. I had no idea how deeply it would impact me.
The people, the animals, the culture, and the beauty of this country will be forever in my heart. I’m so thankful Michelle and I found Discover Corps, and I’m genuinely grateful for the experiences they cultivated for us.
When I returned home from this incredible 17-day trip, I kept asking myself: What can I do to help? After all, I’m only one person… and I’m 9,000 miles away.
For weeks I wrestled with that question. I dreamed up grand ideas—starting a foundation, building an entire initiative—and none of it stuck.
And then one day it hit me:
I don’t need a grand plan to start. I just need to start.
So I’m starting by sharing my story—because if you know me at all, you know I’m a storyteller at heart.
If something in this post moved you, surprised you, or made you feel that tightness in your chest… please don’t scroll past it and forget it tomorrow. Pick one small thing and do it today:
- Share this post (awareness matters more than we think)
- Support one of the organizations (even a small donation helps)
- Choose ethical wildlife experiences (and gently educate others when you can)
- Or put a conservation trip on your bucket list—and go
Because the truth is, these animals don’t need more people who feel bad for them.
They need more people who show up.
Companies that sell products for conservation
- Ellie & May – Sell clothing to support elephant conservation initiatives.
- Down2TheWire – Create jewelry from animal snares; profits support anti-poaching efforts.
- Rhino Tears Wine – A portion of wine sales supports anti-poaching work connected with SANParks efforts.
- Arid Wines – Supports Ingwe Leopard Research for leopard conservation.
- WWF South Africa Shop – Eco-friendly items and apparel; proceeds support conservation work.
- The Gin Company – Conservation gin range supporting conservation awareness/initiatives.
Organizations working directly on conservation (besides those mentioned above)
- Endangered Wildlife Trust (EWT) – Protects threatened species and ecosystems; involved in vulture and other species conservation.
- Insimbi Legacy Projects – Focus on rhino protection and anti-poaching strategies.
- Johannesburg Wildlife Veterinary Hospital – Treats, rehabilitates, and releases indigenous South African wildlife.
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