WHEN THE RIVER IS THE ROAD, THERE IS NO EASY ANSWER.

It is easy to say, “Just relocate the crocodile.” It is much harder when people must return to the same river the following morning.

The photograph above captures something fundamental about life in many rural parts of Africa. A river is not simply a place where wildlife lives. It can be a road, a source of food, a place to collect water, a fishing ground and a vital connection between communities.

For people travelling in small dugout canoes, there may be no bridge, motorboat or alternative route. The river is part of everyday survival.

And in some of those same waters live Nile crocodiles.

Most crocodiles do not become habitual predators of people. But when a large crocodile begins attacking people repeatedly, the relationship between wildlife conservation and human safety becomes extraordinarily difficult.

I know this because I experienced that reality firsthand.

Why Not Simply Relocate the Crocodile?

Whenever I discuss my years as a licensed crocodile hunter involved in problem animal control in Malawi, one question understandably arises:

Why did the crocodile have to be killed? Why couldn’t it simply be captured and relocated?

It is a reasonable question.

Where the expertise, equipment, funding and appropriate habitat exist, capture and relocation may sometimes be considered. If a dangerous animal can be safely removed without killing it, that deserves serious consideration.

But there is an enormous difference between what is theoretically possible and what is practically available in remote Africa.

Capturing a large Nile crocodile alive is not as simple as putting it into a cage and driving it somewhere else. It can require specialised equipment, experienced personnel, suitable transport, considerable logistical support and an appropriate release location.

Then comes another question: Where should the crocodile be released?

Moving a dangerous animal from one community cannot simply mean transferring the risk to another.

These decisions have to be viewed within the resources and circumstances that actually existed at the time — not through the resources we wish had been available.

When the River Is the Road

Look carefully at this photograph.

People are travelling in a traditional canoe close to the waterline. Behind them, others gather along the riverbank. For communities such as these, avoiding the river altogether may simply not be realistic.

This is one of the realities that can disappear from discussions about human-wildlife conflict.

Someone living in London, New York or another major city can reasonably ask why people continue using waters known to contain crocodiles.

But what if there is no practical alternative?

What if that river is how you travel?

What if you depend upon it for fishing?

What if your family collects water there?

What if your livelihood requires you to approach the river every day?

Telling people simply to stay away from the water is not necessarily a solution.

Problem Animal Control Was Not Sport Hunting

This distinction is particularly important when discussing my own story.

My work with crocodiles was undertaken under licence in Malawi and included the control of crocodiles that posed threats to communities.

The objective in those situations was not to eliminate crocodiles from the environment.

It was to address specific dangerous animals and reduce an immediate threat to human life.

That distinction matters.

A healthy crocodile population and a particular crocodile repeatedly attacking people are two very different conservation questions.

When an individual animal becomes a serious danger to people, wildlife authorities and communities can face decisions where every available option carries consequences.

Sometimes there is no perfect answer.

The Reality Behind “Non-Lethal” Solutions

Modern wildlife management rightly places increasing emphasis on reducing conflict without killing animals wherever practical.

I support that principle.

But a non-lethal solution is only a solution if it can actually be implemented.

Relocation requires resources. Capture requires expertise. Transport requires vehicles and equipment. Release requires an appropriate destination. Monitoring requires further resources.

In wealthier countries, sophisticated wildlife-response teams may sometimes be available relatively quickly.

That cannot automatically be assumed in rural Africa.

When a community reports that people have been attacked, the immediate question is not merely what would be ideal under unlimited resources.

The question becomes:

What can realistically be done before somebody else is killed?

That was the environment in which many of my decisions had to be made.

Human Lives Must Be Part of Conservation

There is another uncomfortable aspect of this debate.

Conservation discussions can sometimes focus so heavily on the animal that the people living alongside dangerous wildlife become almost invisible.

That is a mistake.

The villagers, fishermen and families sharing these landscapes are part of the conservation equation.

They are not outsiders entering some pristine wilderness. In many cases, their communities have existed alongside wildlife for generations.

Successful conservation therefore requires coexistence wherever possible — but coexistence has limits when people are being killed.

If conservation is perceived as valuing a dangerous animal more highly than the life of a human, public support for conservation itself can be damaged.

Protecting wildlife and protecting people should not automatically be regarded as opposing objectives.

The challenge is finding the most responsible balance between them.

Lethal Control Should Be Understood for What It Is

I do not describe killing a crocodile as conservation simply because the animal presented a problem.

Lethal control is lethal control.

It should be justified, targeted and carried out within the relevant legal and wildlife-management framework.

Nor should every crocodile seen near people automatically be labelled a “man-eater.” Crocodiles naturally inhabit African waterways, and their presence alone does not justify their destruction.

But when credible evidence indicates that a particular crocodile is repeatedly attacking people, circumstances change.

If safe capture and relocation are genuinely available, they should be considered.

If they are not available, and human lives remain at immediate risk, lethal control may become the last practical option.

That distinction is central to understanding the work I did.

My Perspective Changed Over the Years

My story did not end with crocodile hunting.

Over decades, my experiences with African wildlife increasingly shaped my understanding of conservation and habitat protection.

At Mpatamanga Wildlife Ranch in Malawi, my attention turned towards protecting indigenous woodland and wildlife habitat. For approximately two decades, I worked to protect an area that had previously faced pressures including charcoal burning and illegal tree cutting.

That experience taught me something important.

Conservation is rarely simple.

It involves animals, habitat, local communities, economics, government policy, enforcement and the realities of poverty.

Sometimes protecting wildlife means protecting an animal.

Sometimes protecting an ecosystem means protecting trees and habitat.

And sometimes responsible wildlife management means confronting a dangerous individual animal because human lives are at risk.

Those realities can exist simultaneously.

There Were No Easy Choices

I understand why photographs of dead crocodiles can provoke strong reactions.

People should question the killing of wildlife. Conservation benefits from scrutiny.

But judgement should also take account of context.

My crocodile-hunting stories come from real field experience in Malawi — from rivers where fishermen worked, families travelled and communities lived alongside one of Africa’s most formidable predators.

I did not operate in a world of unlimited conservation budgets, helicopters and specialist relocation teams waiting to respond.

I operated within the resources available at the time.

When a dangerous crocodile threatened human life and no realistic relocation capability existed, the responsibility was sometimes brutally straightforward:

remove the threat before another person was taken.

That is not a celebration of killing.

It is an acknowledgement of the difficult reality of human-wildlife conflict.

And if we genuinely want a future in which people and crocodiles can coexist, then we must understand both sides of that reality.

Ian Bartlett — The Real Crocodile Hunter®
Author of Memoirs of a Real Crocodile Hunter and Mpatamanga

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