Sylvia ChebetCecil the lion was the face of Zimbabwe's Hwange National Park, had his own Wikipedia page, and a GPS collar tracked by Oxford researchers.
Tourists would fly to Zimbabwe just to photograph him. He was, in every possible way, the king of the pride.
Then one evening in July 2015, a wealthy American trophy hunter's bow and arrow ended it all.
Cecil's killing blew up on social media, sparking protests from London to Los Angeles and turning him into the posthumous mascot of a campaign against trophy hunting.
A decade on, lions and other wildlife continue to die the same way every year. Just that they don't make it to the headlines like Cecil did.
August 10 marks World Lion Day, which Dr Angie Elwin, head of research at World Animal Protection, calls "a stark reminder that the 'king of the jungle' remains unprotected from commercial exploitation through trophy hunting and captive breeding".
Production line
The growth of South Africa's captive breeding industry over the past 30 years reflects how skewed conservation priorities have become.
The country now has nearly 8,000 lions in captivity, more than double the 3,500 in the wild.
Worldwide, only about 20,000 lions remain outside of captive breeding centres, according to the International Union for Conservation of Nature.
"Most lion farms are pretty intensive production lines," Dr Louise de Waal, director of the conservation campaign Blood Lions, tells TRT Afrika.
In the wild, lioness gives birth once every two years. In captivity, she would potentially have four to five litters during the same period.
Cubs are separated from their mothers within days or weeks. Then, as Elwin points out, they are "monetised at every stage of life": from "cub petting" attractions to "walking with lions" experiences.
Once too large to handle, a captive-bred lion is invariably sold as a target in a canned hunt, or commercialised killing of trophy animals within enclosed spaces, from where escape is impossible. It's a blood sport that represents the worst of human indulgences.
Even death doesn't end the lion's humiliating torment.
"Skins, skulls and paws become trophies, while bones may be dried, boxed, and sometimes illegally traded for use in the international big cat bone trade," Elwin tells TRT Afrika.
Hunters hang the heads and skins on their walls.
Ban only in name
South Africa banned the legal export of lion skeletons in 2019, but a recent World Animal Protection investigation revealed that illegal trade continues.
Between 2014 and 2024, the CITES trade database shows that over 12,600 lion parts and products were exported globally – 9,629 trophies, 943 claws, 670 skeletons, 486 skulls, 252 bones, skin, teeth, and other body parts.
"This isn't conservation; it's a supply chain built on animal suffering, with no benefit to wild populations and devastating consequences for the species' welfare and dignity," says Elwin. "Ending this cycle is critical to both protecting lions and safeguarding South Africa's reputation as a global leader in ethical, wildlife-based tourism."
Cecil as a catalyst
On the positive side, Cecil's death did change something.
Based on available data, global trade in lion trophies has dropped by about a third since 2015, down to fewer than 1,000 in recent years.
But trophy hunting continues for elephants, rhinos, leopards, and other animals.
In 2023, more than 6,000 international hunters killed over 34,000 animals, according to the Professional Hunters' Association.
This is despite the fact that most local populations oppose trophy hunting. Communities living near South Africa's Kruger National Park demand alternatives to killing animals for money despite having to deal with poverty, unemployment and wildlife that threatens their livestock and crops.
Finding another way
"Over 85% of people we surveyed were in support of introducing a 'lion levy' on international tourists, intended to replace trophy hunting revenue and directly benefit local communities," says Elwin, among those who contributed to the Lion Levy Research Paper.
About 70% disagreed that hunting wild animals "has always been part of our culture, and we should keep doing it".
Conservationists estimate that the levy, if introduced, could bring in over US $175 million annually, enough to replace all trophy hunting income in South Africa without scaring off tourists.
"The lion levy has strong potential to improve local community livelihoods," Elwin tells TRT Afrika.
Communities near parks like Kruger have other options, too. They can sell traditional handicrafts to tourists, manage wildlife areas and guide eco-tours.
"Community-run lodges, campsites and guided tours would also attract responsible travellers seeking authentic nature experiences," Elwin says. "This helps create jobs and raise revenue linked directly to wildlife preservation."
Some communities are trying out virtual safaris and wildlife webcams for international audiences, making money with minimal environmental impact. A few have leased out land to conservation groups, while others are part of biodiversity conservation campaigns that guarantee remuneration.
"By embracing these diverse, wildlife-friendly livelihood options, communities can build sustainable economies that support conservation goals, reduce illegal hunting, and improve overall well-being," explains Elwin.
For now, it's a race against time to shift from exploitation to preservation, before the roar of the wild potentially fades into silence.
