Three weeks in South Africa left a deeper impression on me than I could have imagined. I spent two weeks volunteering with Wildlife ACT in Hluhluwe-iMfolozi Park alongside several fellow artists from the UK, followed by a few days in the Manyeleti Private Game Reserve bordering Kruger National Park. It was an experience that completely changed the way I see wildlife conservation.
Our days often began long before sunrise. While most people were still asleep, wildlife monitors and rangers had already been tracking endangered species for hours. One of the species we monitored most closely was the African wild dog—one of the world’s rarest predators, with only around 650 individuals remaining in South Africa. Hluhluwe-iMfolozi plays a vital role in protecting these animals, monitoring their movements, and reducing human-wildlife conflict to help secure the future of their packs.
What struck me most was how fragile these ecosystems truly are. Conservation is not simply about protecting wildlife—it is a constant race against one of the greatest threats these animals face: humans. Poaching remains a devastating reality, particularly for rhinos, despite the tireless work of rangers and conservation teams.
Some moments were difficult to witness. One day, gunshots echoed through the reserve, forcing us to stop our monitoring activities and return immediately to camp. On another occasion, news reached us that a white rhino had been shot by poachers. Together with the rangers, we searched the area by vehicle while a fixed-wing aircraft scanned the reserve from above, hoping to locate the injured animal before it was too late. Despite the extensive search efforts, the rhino was not found. It was a sobering reminder that behind every conservation success story lies a constant battle against wildlife crime.
These experiences made me appreciate even more the extraordinary dedication of the people working on the front lines of conservation. Every single animal matters, and every day brings new challenges that most visitors to these parks never see.
Between monitoring sessions, I spent countless hours sketching and painting the wildlife around me with watercolours in my sketchbook. This creative process allowed me to slow down, observe more closely, and connect with the landscape in a way that photography alone never could.
The wildlife encounters themselves were unforgettable. We watched a coalition of cheetahs patiently stalking their prey before witnessing the hunt unfold—a rare and breathtaking moment to experience in the wild. We also encountered elephants quietly crossing the road just metres away, wild dogs resting peacefully in the grass, giraffes moving silently through the trees, and countless other moments that felt almost surreal.
I returned home with far more than sketches and paintings. I came back with a much deeper understanding of what conservation really means: not only protecting extraordinary wildlife, but supporting the people who dedicate their lives to ensuring these species still have a future. It is work that is demanding, often heartbreaking, and absolutely essential.
As an artist, these experiences will continue to shape my work. Every painting carries not only the beauty of these remarkable animals, but also the story of why they deserve to be protected.