Blood in the Dust: The Truth About Trophy Hunting and Africa’s Future
- AussieJohn
- Apr 21
- 4 min read
Updated: Apr 22
Blood in the Dust: The Truth About Trophy Hunting and Africa’s Future
Two years ago in northern Namibia, I saw something I’ll never forget.
A tribal elder was trampled to death by an elephant while walking to fetch water. There was no warning. No escape. Just a sudden chaos. Screams. Dust. Then silence.
Her blood stained the dry earth, wide and dark. The kind of stain you don’t forget.
The village gathered in grief. But in Africa, grief is not the end of the story. Because life and death live side by side there—and balance is everything.

Days later, under a legal, government-issued quota, that same elephant was hunted by a paying client. Rangers from the local anti-poaching unit were present, overseeing the hunt as required by law. The elephant was taken cleanly. The village returned—not to mourn, but to harvest.
The meat was stripped and dried over wooden fences. The heart, the organs—everything was used. Nothing was wasted. Homemade knives came out of old bags. Children, mothers, elders all waited patiently for their share. That elephant fed dozens. And the hunting fee brought vital money into the community—supporting patrol wages, schools, and long-term conservation.
They sang. They danced. Not in celebration of death—but in gratitude for life.
This is how regulated hunting works in parts of Africa. And this is why a proposed Australian ban on the import of legally hunted trophies is dangerous.

The idea might feel right from afar. It might win headlines or likes on social media. But in reality, it threatens to strip African communities of the one thing that gives wildlife long-term value: managed, ethical, science-based hunting.
No permits are handed out carelessly. CITES, the global authority on wildlife trade, strictly regulates the system. Quotas are based on scientific data. The same principles apply across the world.
In fact, North America—especially the United States and Canada—has some of the most successful wildlife conservation systems on Earth. Bear hunting, elk, deer, mountain lion—it’s all managed with tight permit systems, habitat data, and population studies. Hunters don’t take randomly. They apply, they pay, they wait, and they follow strict rules.
And because of that, populations thrive.
To ban imports from legal, regulated hunts would not hurt poachers—it would help them. It would strip wildlife of its economic and cultural value in the very places where it's needed most. If wildlife is worth nothing to locals, it quickly becomes meat, farmland, or a threat to be eliminated.
Look no further than the rhino.
It’s not hunters driving rhinos to extinction - it’s poachers—and the insatiable demand from illegal Asian markets for rhino horn. For decades, syndicates have slaughtered these animals in the dark, leaving behind nothing but butchered carcasses and broken ecosystems. The trade is brutal, black-market, and entirely outside the law.
Legal, controlled hunting has never been the threat. In fact, countries like Namibia and South Africa, which allow limited, regulated rhino hunts, have some of the strongest remaining populations.
That’s because those animals now have economic value—value that funds security patrols, builds fences, and supports local communities who otherwise might turn a blind eye to poaching.
Ban legal hunting, and you take away the incentive to protect. You hand the keys to the poachers.
It’s the same with elephants. With lions. With buffalo. Take away value, and you create a vacuum. And poachers rush in to fill it—with traps, bullets, and machetes.
The uncomfortable truth is this: Wildlife must be worth more alive than dead. And in many parts of Africa, that value comes through hunting.
Let’s focus on stopping the real killers—the cartels, the traffickers, the black-market networks—not the systems that have proven to work.
Because if we chase feel-good policies instead of smart ones, we won’t be saving animals. We’ll be signing their death warrant.
It’s easy to pass judgment from an armchair in Sydney or Melbourne, watching an edited clip or reading a loaded headline. It’s easy to ignore the complexity when you’re not walking beside elephants or fetching water past lions.
But policy based on emotion, not science, ends in blood.
That woman’s death was real. So was the food and security her village received in the days after. That’s the hard truth.

And the even harder one? If import bans like this succeed, the next blood we see may not be just on the dust of an African village—but on our own hands, as species disappear, one by one, not from over-hunting, but from neglect, poverty, and the misguided good intentions of those who never stepped foot on the land. We don't need blanket bans.
We need smart, informed decisions that protect wildlife and people. Banning Trophy Imports is the wrong move, I've been there, I've seen it first hand and played my part in helping the local tribal communities in both Africa and North America, so let’s not get this wrong.