Full Circle — My First Zebra in Namibia
Two years ago, a missed zebra shot tested me in ways I wasn’t prepared for. In Namibia, with my own rifle in hand, I finally had the chance to make it right. This is the story of my first zebra — and the lessons that brought me full circle.
Looking Back: South Africa, Two Years Ago
Two years ago, I found myself behind a hunting rifle for the first time. I had traveled solo to South Africa for an international bird hunting trip: ducks, geese, and upland birds across three provinces. Picking up a rifle wasn’t part of the plan. After some shots at the range I felt confident enough to try for a Nyala, one of South Africa’s spiral-horned antelopes.
When the Nyala presented itself, I took a clean shot and it expired quickly. Relief and pride washed over me. For a first big game experience, it couldn’t have gone better.
The very next day, I decided to go after a zebra. That’s when things changed. On my first shot, I flinched at the trigger. The bullet sailed under her belly and struck her left front knee. My journal entry says it best: “She was hit but didn’t really run as I broke her leg. Some of the herd stayed close… surrounding her, so we got out of the truck to get closer for a follow-up shot.” My heart pounded as guilt sank in. Both my PH and Ramsey, who was with me, spoke at once, and I snapped that I couldn’t focus. On the second shot, she dropped, and it was over.
Relief and sadness collided. I thanked God for her, then stood for photos, trying to keep myself composed. But as the trackers loaded her into the truck, something strange happened. Three zebras came back — one about her size, maybe a little smaller, and two even younger.
It’s not common for a herd to return after a hunt. Most outfitters and PHs I’ve spoken to since have said they’d never seen anything like it. Yet there they were, no more than 15 yards away, watching. Tears ran down my face as they drew closer. I whispered, “I’m so sorry,” over and over, convinced I’d taken their mother away.
That abnormal return made the moment even heavier. It turned an already emotional experience into something I will never forget.
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Namibia: My First Plains Game with My Rifle
Fast forward nearly two years. I was back in Africa, this time in Namibia, on a safari package I had won at Safari Club International. The target list had options, but on Day 2 of the hunt, fate presented me with zebra again.
It was past lunch and we were headed to camp when one of the trackers spotted three Hartmann’s zebras high on a rocky hill. My heart raced. Of course, the first animal in Namibia would be a zebra. Memories of South Africa flashed back, but so did the hours of practice I’d put in with my first rifle, the Q Fix in 8.6 Blackout. I knew this time I was ready.
My PH estimated the range at 120 yards. The rangefinder confirmed 115. I got on the sticks, picked out the zebra, and settled my reticle. Before nerves could creep in, I exhaled and squeezed. The shot was solid. She bolted 15–20 yards, then to everyone’s surprise, flipped forward off the rocks and came to rest. My PH had never seen a zebra do that before.
We climbed the hill, excitement replacing nerves. No tears this time — only gratitude. I prayed over her, thankful for the experience and the redemption of a clean, ethical shot. Roelof, my PH, grinned and said, “Bloody good job, madam. Perfect shot, eh. You put it exactly where we said.”
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What This Hunt Means to Me
That moment meant everything.
Taking a zebra in Namibia wasn’t just another check mark on a list. It was redemption. It was growth. Proof that the hardest lessons shape us into better hunters.
Two years ago, I shot my first big game animal: a nyala.
The next day, August 9, 2023, I experienced one of the hardest hunts of my life with a zebra.
And two years later, almost to the date — August 10, 2025 — my first animal in Namibia, with my own rifle, was a zebra.
Full circle.
This hunt reminded me that the journey matters as much as the outcome. Hunting will always bring highs and lows, clean kills and hard lessons. It’s those moments together that make us who we are in the field.
Words can only tell part of the story. Here’s a short reel from Namibia that captures the experience:
What happens next
This isn’t just a trophy. Hunting in Africa, nothing goes to waste. That’s Conservation.
What’s unique about Namibia is how concessions and the Conservancy works to collect the meat and distribute locally to villages.
Below is a photo of the zebra meat loaded in the game guard’s truck. I’ll be sharing more soon about how that process works and the role it plays in conservation. Stay tuned for that post — it’s an important part of the story.
Follow along
If this story resonated with you, check out my raw South Africa zebra journal entry from 2023 — the experience that set the stage for this full circle moment.
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Be in the know for when I share my next blog post about Namibia and this incredibly safari journey! You won’t want to miss it.