The van der Merwes’ 80-acre lion-breeding facility is one of an estimated 260 lion farms in the country, where between 8,000 and 12,000 lions are bred, raised and kept in captivity. “You need one for transport, one for release, one for hunting, one for relocating, one for selling the bones, one for the taxidermist,” van der Merwe says.

The South African government sells only five or so wild-lion-hunting permits each year, but there is no stated limit to the number of captive-bred lions that can be hunted, so long as lion breeders abide by various government permitting requirements. Most people who book trips with the van der Merwes are big-game hunters who come to shoot animals on their private land farther north, including impala, kudu, sable antelope, Cape buffalo, warthogs-and lions. They rise before dawn to roll through the bush in a four-wheel drive, spotting everything from crocs to hyenas. Clients sleep in luxury African lodges, spending their evenings outside around a hearth and having a braai, the classic South African barbecue. The van der Merwes organize safaris on two separate game reserves. The unhabituated lions are given names for adminstrative purposes and are not treated as pets. Tasha is one of roughly 50 lions at Jenobli Safaris’ breeding facility, although the facility has permits to house 125. The lions are fed chicken, beef and game meat left over from trophy hunts. Kagiso Moeg and Sello Sebethlela throw meat into the lion enclosure at Jenobli Safaris, in North West province. This article is a selection from the January/February 2023 issue of Smithsonian magazine Subscribe Subscribe to Smithsonian magazine now for just $15 Tourists typically visit to go on safari- Kruger National Park, home to some 2,000 wild lions, is the continent’s most popular wildlife park-and the number one animal on the checklist is the iconic, majestic, wild lion. Ecotourism generates some $2.4 billion in annual revenue. Along with his wife, Anneke, he runs Jenobli Safaris in North West province, South Africa, not far from the border with Botswana.

“We only feed them twice a week, and we throw the meat over the fence,” van der Merwe says. Another young female charges me but is stopped by an older lioness, who bats her on the nose with a huge paw. The wire is supposed to be electrified, but I catch a lion licking it to no ill effect. I am standing less than five feet from five very large, healthy, well-fed lions, nothing but strands of wire separating us. “These lions are not accustomed to humans,” Casper van der Merwe says in his distinctive Afrikaner accent. The lion charges the electric fence, and I leap backward.

World in conflict game warthog