Raw Reflections: My First Zebra Hunt in South Africa

Looking Back — An Emotional Hunt

This is my journal entry that I wrote on August 9, 2023 shortly after an intense and emotional zebra hunting experience in South Africa.

To set the stage, I had visited South Africa to hunt birds — ducks, geese, and upland birds. The intention to seek big game was never in my mind as I had never been a rifle hunter, only having been hunting for ~4 years.

The day before I had my first hunt for big game and was successful at a clean, ethical shot at a nyala — a striking, spiral-horned antelope. For my first time on a big game animal, it couldn’t have gone better. Filled with pride and excitement, I decided to target a second animal, a zebra. This hunt gave me a much different experience, both difficult and emotional.

This is my journal entry, written as it was, no editing, just pure post-experience:

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Day 8 — Zebra.

I had a tough time mentally on today’s hunt. Before the hunt I was questioning myself if I really wanted to hunt a zebra. I had always said, “no, I haven’t been interested in big game.” Or “comfortable shooting something I have a connection to.”

After seeing Ramsey’s zebra yesterday I didn’t really feel a connection as the zebra laid there in the truck. I felt the zebra on her head, touched her muzzle, and didn’t feel sadness. She was beautiful and in the moment I wanted my own zebra experience.

Initially I thought we were going to hunt ducks today and would have an opportunity on Thursday for a zebra so if I changed my mind, I had a day to think it over. Well last night Clayton, the owner/guide, said that if I really wanted the zebra it would be best to try in the morning, as he could only take 2 people for their pygmy goose at a time.

The decision to hunt zebra was made in that moment. And then over the morning I still felt a sense of unease and nervousness. Maybe I should have backed out and changed my mind but I didn’t.

We go to the game reserve and within 90 minutes we already found a herd of zebras. “G man” was the name of our game reserve tracker. He pointed to the lead zebra on the far left that he was a male, although you are able to shoot female zebras on this land.

As I looked at it in the rifle scope it was a lot more white with less prominent black stripes. The zebra to the right of it, standing in the middle, was darker with its zebra stripes. G-man gave me the okay on it and I lined up the rifle placement.

When I took the shot I think I flinched a bit because I ended shooting low and hit her leg. This first shot was about 100 yards. She was hit but she didn’t really run as I broke her leg. The herd stayed close and she was limping. We waited in the truck to try to get another shot but the herd was surrounding her and they were walking away slowly.

We got out of the truck to get closer for another shot. Reached about 50 yards. Both Ramsey & Sebastian were talking to me, my heart racing, adrenaline pumping because of my initial shot not being what I had wanted.

I yelled, “y’all are both talking to me! I can’t focus!” Or something like, “stop talking to me, I can’t concentrate.” Sebastian said, “listen to me.” He told me where to place the second shot. Lined it up again, deep breath and a pull of the trigger. She drops. It was over.

Emotions came over me and I began to cry. Tears of relief, excitement in a way but also sadness. Mostly because I didn’t have a good first shot, I hurt her and added pain to the experience.

As we were walking up, there were 3 zebras that stayed close by and didn’t immediately run off. Able to collect myself we took pictures with her and of her. I felt her all over, touching her head and body. These animals are gorgeous with their coloring and the pattern that makes her a zebra.

As the group began to load her in the truck her family herd returned. I wish they hadn’t. Maybe seeing them was my punishment for what I had done.

They came pretty close and watched. I could only imagine what they were thinking. Do animals even think? Surely they do. You can see the love in animals and so my head was racing with thoughts.

“You took their mom from them.”

There were 3 total: 1 smaller male, not sure if he was “dad” and then 2 smaller zebras, 1 smaller than the other. As they looked at me, I just kept saying in my head, “I’m sorry” as the emotions of sadness, confusion, and a realness of the situation unfolded.

I hated that they stood there. As my tears welled up in my eyes and I was crying thinking of them. Am I even a hunter? Does it make me a better hunter because I feel this way? Less of a hunter?

I’ve always tried to respect the resource. Even with birds, when I first started hunting, I would wing a dove and that little dove would look at me with its eyes and I’d feel a sense of grief, as I was going to take its life right there. I would always say to myself, “thank you Lord,” and then dispatch the bird. In the same sense, I had these intense emotions about taking the life of this zebra and removing it from its family.

Why don’t I feel this way about the nyala? Is it because I had no connection to that species? Is it because I don’t look at that game animal in the same way? Or was it the fact the family remained around?

It was as if they returned to see if she was alive or maybe they know and it was them saying goodbye. Whatever it was, it wasn’t easy.

If you’ve read this far, you know how heavy this day was for me. Years later, I had the chance to come full circle on another zebra hunt in Namibia. You can read that story here.