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Hwange volunteers fighting to save wild dogs from extinction
BY NOKUTHABA DLAMINI
Forty seven year-old Sarah Makina is one of the volunteers from Hwange fighting to save painted dogs from extinction and earning a living while doing something that has become a passion.
Makina from Mabale village on the outskirts of the Hwange National Park and other volunteers regularly venture into Zimbabwe’s biggest game reserve searching for snares used by poachers to trap the wild animals that are threatened with extinction.
The villagers take the snares to Iganyana Art Centre in Dete, which was set up by the community under Chief Nelukoba, where the deadly traps are used to make artifacts to raise awareness about poaching and the importance of conservation.
Makina became involved in the initiative after Chief Nelukoba mobilised the community to take action after he stumbled on a dead female painted dog near his homestead.
“A community meeting was called, and the chief was not happy about the incident as the painted dog was killed by a snare set by poachers. He explained to us that the animals were already at risk of extinction,” she said.
The dead painted dog was brought to the meeting and after a long address by the chief, the community decided to take an initiative to form a committee that will go to the game reserve every day to remove snares.
The Painted Dog Conservation (PDC), an non-profit organisation set up to protect painted dogs – also known as African wild or hunting dogs – joined hands with the Mabele community to set up the Iganyana Art Centre in 2003 where the snares are turned to into artifacts.
Through the initiative the community has removed over 30 000 snares since 2002.
The centre provides materials and training for local’ artisans, who turn snares into beautiful sculptures.
A ranger carrying recovered snares
Ronnie Sibanda, PDC’s communications and marketing manager, said the 23 young people at Iganyana Centre, had acquired skills to use the recovered snares to create artifacts depicting wild animals such as painted dogs, lions, pangolins and giraffes, among others.
“When our anti-poaching communities collect snares from the wild, they bring them to our art centre made up of 23 youths’ artisans who then transform the snares into art,” Sibanda said.
“So it’s turning tragedy into conservation, education, skills and income sustainability.”
“When a painted dog was snared in Mabale which is in our area operation, Chief Nelukoba was not happy about it and the communities formed a voluntary anti-poaching unit to help by patrolling in their areas.
“To date we have over 60 Mabale volunteers and we have also started to see even other neighbouring communities like Dopota, Nabushome and Sianyanga joining in.”
PDC equips the volunteers with equipment to protect themselves from poachers and uniforms.
“They have worked hard to reduce wildlife related crimes through our support with equipment such as the GPS trackers, boots, old uniforms from our anti-poaching unit rangers, shoes so that when they go out they can be identified,” Sibanda added.
“Since then we have not recorded any dog being snared.”
He said at the height of Covid-19 induced lockdowns in 2020 they recorded an upsurge in poaching of wild animals such as kudus, impalas and antelopes.
Volunteers such as Makina swung into action and helped to remove 5 000 snares in three months.
“Covid-19 came by with lots of hardships and desperation where we saw a rise in poaching activities and engaged the first group from Mabale to deploy them outside their community to beef up our scouting team of 16 and because of that effort, we removed 5 000 snares in a space of three months,” Sibanda said.
“The numbers went down to 1 900 after maintaining the stance of putting more boots on the ground such that even the poachers were now scared and that is why we saw a reduction in six months.”
The initiative has seen 85 rescued painted dogs being rehabilitated and released back into the wild.
“Our mission is to create an environment where painted dogs can thrive and we are trying to do this using several methods that include an anti-poaching unit work in the Hwange buffer zone and we also have the rehabilitation facility where we take care of sick or injured dogs as well as dogs from compromised backgrounds such as the puppies whose mothers have been ensnared and a research department monitoring the dogs, particularly those that are vulnerable in unsafe areas,” Sibanda said.
PDC is monitoring six packs of painted dogs on a daily basis across the Hwange National Park and four packs in Mana Pools National Park.
According to scientific research on the painted dog population in Hwange National Park in 1990s, there was a decrease of the dogs’ population to 100 due to space limitations, snares, road kill and diseases.
The game reserve now has an estimated 200, thanks to the conservation work by the organisation and the communities.
There are fewer than 7 000 painted dogs left across Africa. Other parts of the world do not have painted dogs.
*This story was first published by The Standard
BY NOKUTHABA DLAMINI
In the small town of Bela-Bela, a quietly flourishing business is unfolding — one that turns wildlife into livelihood, education, and economic opportunity. On a humid afternoon, we walked into the operations of Estelle Nel Taxidermy (and its parent networks), where rows of beautiful animal mounts — from antelope horns to zebra skins, skulls to full-body trophies — line the walls.
But beyond the busts and custom mounts lies a deeper purpose: this is not simply a display of hunting trophies. It is a system of sustainable use — where animals that die naturally or are hunted legally are completely utilised: meat, skin, horns, bones — nothing goes to waste, and everything acquires value.
As we discovered from our conversations, this network extends beyond taxidermy. Adjacent to the showrooms are processing facilities, butcheries, and game-meat wholesalers — all integral to transforming South Africa’s wild fauna into a formal, regulated, and sustainable economy.
“This is home” — an artisan’s vocation
I sat down with Melanie Viljoen, who serves as Export Secretary at Estelle Nel Taxidermy. Her voice was calm, resolute.
“For me, it’s like this is home and it’s something that I love to do. I love art. I studied art at school. I can’t think of anything else I’d rather do.”
She told us she’s been with the business for thirteen to fourteen years. Over that time she’s mastered a unique craft. “I’ve found my niche,” she said, “and I’m not going anywhere.”
Melanie explained how the business flows: outfitters bring in international clients to hunt on private farms, then process the animals: trophy mounts for some, meat for others. Locals also bring animals — sometimes for trophies, sometimes just for meat. There is even “school-mount” work: smaller species, sometimes a mother and its young, carefully preserved — not just for hunters, but for children to touch and learn about wildlife up close.
“We mount animals that have died naturally or were hunted… we use everything, from the meat to the skins and curls. It’s a sustainable way of doing business, and everything has a monetary value.”
This, she says, is both business and passion — blending artistry, conservation, and commerce.
From workshops to global markets — taxidermy meets commerce
According to membership details o South African Taxidermy & Tannery Association, Estelle Nel Taxidermy offers a wide range of services: from mounting mammals, birds, reptiles; tanning skins and capes; cleaning, mounting and articulating skulls, bones, horns, tusks; to producing novelty leather items, polished horn décor, engraved bones, hoof lamps — even gunbags and furniture. They offer full export packing and crating services, and help clients ship internationally.
What this means is that skins, hides and trophies — once the culmination of a hunt — become far more than personal souvenirs. They become export commodities, contributing to livelihoods of artisans, packers, shippers, and everyone in between.
Yet, as Pieter Swart President of South African Taxidermy & Tannery Association (SATTA)/chairman of SUCO-SA) told us, that path to global markets is not without obstacles.
“Certain airlines allow the shipping of these trophies. I think it’s about four airlines that you can ship them overseas, but the rest refuse to take their hunting trophies to destinations. As well as the sea shipments — there’s only one ship going to America every three months. The rest of the shipping lines refuse to take hunting trophies.”
He lamented the difficulty in logistics. And yet, he sees themselves as part of a broader — and misunderstood — effort. “This anti-animal works movement created the idea that hunting is killing the animals and destroying them to extinction — but that is actually quite the opposite,” he said. “More and more, the guys are farming the animals; that is creating a better future for the animals.”
In other words: regulated, sustainable use — of every part of the animal — can coexist with conservation, economic empowerment, and community upliftment.
Next door to the taxidermy showroom, we toured a modest but hygienic meat-processing Camo Meat facility, run by people like Ina Hechter. They explained that their business started small — in 2012 as a private processing butcher for animals from farms. Around 2017 they expanded into wholesale for local markets. Export remains limited, but local demand is growing.
Their meats include species typical of the South African game-meat industry: kudu, impala, springbok, wildebeest, zebra and others. What began as a niche — somewhat stigmatised — trade is slowly gaining acceptance. Some supermarkets and lodges are carrying game meat; more restaurants are offering “veld flavour.”
Ina told me that in times of drought — when traditional livestock farming may suffer — game-meat businesses often see increased activity. Farms with overstocked wildlife or animals unable to survive drought may harvest and sell meat, skins and other resources. In this way, what might have been a loss can become income, conservation, and food security.
“Our parks are so small that they can’t sustain all the animals that are there,” Ina said. “Especially in drought years … when it’s not raining a lot you will see they die and then they sell the animals.”M
She sees game meat not only as a business, but as part of a broader sustainable economy — offering healthy, lean protein to consumers, easing pressure on overburdened habitats, and circulating value in rural and peri-urban communities.
More than meat and trophies — a conservation-economy model
What struck me during the tour was how holistic the operation is. It isn’t just about hunters bringing back trophies. It’s about using every bit of what exists: meat, skins, hides, horns, bones — even skulls, and decorative by-products. From full-body mounts to polished horn décor, from retail game-meat packages to furniture made from hoofs: this is a full-value chain.
Companies like Estelle Nel Taxidermy are members of formal trade associations and provide professional services — tanning, mounting, packing, export documentation — and in doing so, they help formalize trade in wildlife products.
Meanwhile, the game meat industry — though historically informal — is slowly growing more regulated. According to a recent national biodiversity-economy strategy, game-meat production supports economic growth, food security, and employment. The most commonly produced and consumed species: impala, kudu, wildebeest, springbok.
In other words: when properly managed, this sector has the potential to transform perceptions of wildlife — from being simply “wild animals” to resources that can feed, employ and uplift entire communities.
Challenges — logistics, stigma, regulation
But it’s not all smooth. As Pieter Swart highlighted, export logistics remain a bottleneck: only a few airlines transport trophies; shipping lines are often reluctant; sea freight to markets like the United States may come only every few months. This makes it harder for the industry to scale globally.
Domestically, the market for game meat and wildlife products still battles cultural and regulatory stigma. Many people still frown at game meat; supermarkets and restaurants are only slowly integrating it.
Regulation is another issue: for the industry to be sustainable, wildlife needs to be farmed or managed responsibly, harvesting must follow quotas, and processing must meet health and safety standards. When abattoirs, tanneries, and exporting agents comply with regulation, this gives the industry legitimacy — but it also requires oversight, capacity, and buy-in from all stakeholders.
Our visit painted a picture of a wildlife economy that’s evolving: where skilled artisans turn skins, horns, skulls into enduring art; where processors supply game meat to homes, restaurants and hotels; where farms, outfitters, taxidermists, meat processors, exporters, and even children (learning from mounted displays) all form part of an ecosystem.
It’s a world that challenges simplistic ideas of wildlife as either “pristine wilderness” or “endangered species.” Instead, it shows how — if managed with respect, regulation, and purpose — natural resources can sustain livelihoods, build economies, and forge a bridge between conservation and commerce.
For many of those involved — from Melanie Viljoen to Ina Hechter and Pieter Swart — it’s not just business. It’s home. It’s art. It’s the future.
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