EXPLORE | THROUGH THE LENS
NGM MAPSleaned his heavy head into Wachira’s. I took a photo
of two old friends together for the last time.
Those final moments were quiet—the rain falling,
a single goaway bird scolding, and the muffled sorrow
of Sudan’s caretakers. These keepers spend more time
protecting the northern white rhinos than they do with
their own children. Watching a creature die—one who
is the last of its kind—is something I hope never to
experience again. It felt like watching our own demise.
The northern white rhinos may not survive human
greed, yet there is a tiny sliver of hope. Today only two
females are left in the world, but plans are in place
to try in vitro fertilization to breed them.
This is not just a story to me. We are
witnessing extinction right now, on our
watch. Poaching is not slowing down.
If the current trajectory of killing con-
tinues, it’s entirely possible that all
species of rhinos will be functionally
extinct within our lifetimes. Removal of
a keystone species has a huge effect on the
ecosystem and on all of us. These giants are
part of a complex world created over millions of
years, and their survival is intertwined with our own.
Without rhinos and elephants and other wildlife, we
suffer a loss of imagination, a loss of wonder, a loss
of beautiful possibilities. When we see ourselves as
part of nature, we understand that saving nature is
really about saving ourselves.
Sudan taught me that. jOn a frigid December night the four rhinos left the
Dvůr Králové Zoo in the Czech Republic for Ol Pejeta
Conservancy in Kenya.
How did we arrive at the point where such desper-
ate measures were necessary? It’s astonishing that
a demand for rhino horn based on little more than
superstition has caused the wholesale slaughter of a
species. But it’s encouraging that a disparate group
of people came together in an attempt to save some-
thing unique and precious, something that once lost
would be gone forever.
Meeting Sudan in the Czech Republic changed
the trajectory of my life. Today my work
doesn’t focus only on the human condi-
tion. Rather, I tell stories about nature,
and in so doing, I tell stories about our
home, our future, and the interdepen-
dence of all life.
Nine years after the airlift, I received
a call to hurry to Kenya. At 45, Sudan was
elderly for his species. He had lived a long
life, but now he was dying. In his last years he
experienced again his native grasslands, although
always in the company of armed guards to keep him
safe from poachers. And he had found stardom—
he’d been affectionately dubbed the “most eligible
bachelor in the world.”
Sudan’s death was not unexpected, yet it resonated
with so many. When I arrived, he was surrounded by
the people who had loved him and protected him.
Joseph Wachira, the man pictured with Sudan on
the previous page and one of his dedicated keepers,
went to give him one more rub behind his ear. SudanAmi Vitale has photographed stories in some 100 countries.
Her most recent work for National Geographic—on giraffes—
is in this issue.Sudan (left) socializes at Ol Pejeta Conservancy in Kenya with his granddaughter, Fatu, one of the last two female northern white rhinos.KENYAAFRICAASIAINDIAN
OCEANOl Pejeta
Conservancy