HuntersGuide Safaris

WARNING - PHOTO DUMP!

We just had an absolute amazing 2 weeks with our third time returning Argentinian Familia!
Too many highs to mention!

Congratulations on your fantastic buffalo and hippo!

We started off fishing in Swakopmund, traveled through Etosha towards the Okavango and ended up hunting at Kasika Conservancy, between the mighty Zambesi and Chobe rivers.

Definitely a trip of a lifetime 👌

Wishing a very happy Birthday to the best salesman in Wisconsin! He probably could sell ice to an Eskimo! Happy birthday Uncle Mike! Have a blessed one 👏Mike Vande Ven

Happy birthday Mr Demler! Enjoy your day! 🍻💪

𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗘𝗹𝗲𝗽𝗵𝗮𝗻𝘁 𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗥𝗼𝗼𝗺: 𝗜𝘀 𝗧𝗿𝗼𝗽𝗵𝘆 𝗛𝘂𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗥𝗲𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝗔𝗯𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝗕𝗼𝘁𝘀𝘄𝗮𝗻𝗮?

𝗢𝗽𝗶𝗻𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝗯𝘆 𝗕𝗼𝗻𝗶𝗳𝗮𝗰𝗲 𝗞𝗲𝗮𝗸𝗮𝗯𝗲𝘁𝘀𝗲

I recently read an article in The Times about the Trump administration's reported decision to ease restrictions on elephant trophy imports into the United States.

The article focused on whether Americans should be allowed to bring elephant trophies home after hunting in Africa. Conservation groups opposed the move. Hunting groups supported it.

But as I read, a different question came to mind.

Is this debate really about Botswana?

After all, the elephants are here.

Yet the loudest voices seem to come from Washington, London, New York and Brussels.

American politicians debate the issue.

Western conservation groups campaign on it.

Foreign hunters spend money on it.

International media tells the story.

And Botswana?

Botswana is where the elephants actually live.

That got me thinking.

For years, Africa's conservation debates have been presented as a choice between two camps.

One side says trophy hunting helps conservation and supports rural communities.

The other says wildlife should be protected from commercial killing.

But there is something both sides rarely acknowledge.

Both depend on foreign money.

If an elephant is hunted, a foreign hunter usually pays.

If an elephant is photographed, a foreign tourist usually pays.

If a conservation project is funded, the money often comes from foreign donors.

If an NGO campaigns for wildlife protection, much of its support comes from outside Africa.

Different methods. Same dependence.

We are told Africans own their wildlife.

But do we really control its value?

We own the elephants.

We do not own the market.

When America changes trophy import rules, Botswana feels it.

When tourists decide not to travel, Botswana feels it.

When donors change priorities, Botswana feels it.

When foreign activists shape public opinion, Botswana feels it.

That is not just conservation.

That is dependence.

The real question is not whether hunting is better than photographic tourism.

The real question is whether Africa has built a conservation economy that depends too heavily on the approval of people who do not live here.

Meanwhile, communities that actually live with wildlife often struggle to have their voices heard.

The farmer whose crops are destroyed by elephants rarely makes international headlines.

The village dealing with human-wildlife conflict is rarely invited into global conservation debates.

Yet these are the people who carry the costs of conservation every day.

As someone who has spent years studying African history, I find this situation strangely familiar.

Africa has always supplied resources that others wanted:

Gold.

Diamonds.

Copper.

Rubber.

Oil.

The resources were African.

But the markets that determined their value were somewhere else.

Today the resource is wildlife.

The faces have changed.

The language has changed.

The justifications have changed.

But the question remains the same.

Who controls the value of African resources?

Perhaps that is the real elephant in the room.

Not the hunter.

Not the tourist.

Not the activist.

But the market itself.

Until Africa develops conservation models that are funded primarily by Africans, for Africans, we will continue having debates about our resources while others determine their value.

We may own the elephants.

But do we truly control what they are worth?