Reflections on Bon Jovi the Lion — A Tragic Ending, and Deeper Questions
- Tyrone McKeith
- 4 days ago
- 3 min read

News of the euthanasia of the lion known as Bon Jovi—first seen in Liuwa Plain National Park (though he descended, ironically, from lions originally introduced there from the Kafue)—has sparked sadness, frustration, and difficult questions for those of us who care about Zambia’s wildlife and the delicate balance between people and protected areas.
Bon Jovi was a recognisable figure—impressive, resourceful, and often controversial. After being moved from Liuwa following livestock predation incidents, he was released near Lake Itezhi-Tezhi in the southern Kafue. From there, he undertook a remarkable journey northwards, traversing hundreds of kilometres through the park to the Busanga Plains, before eventually continuing westward and once again encountering livestock and human settlements.

The resulting outcome—a swift decision to euthanise him—has left many in the conservation and tourism community disheartened. There are those who question whether this was truly the only option. Could more have been done to relocate him again? Could a re-acclimatisation boma or other tools have been used to allow him to settle in a more appropriate area? And why was the decision so rapid, without an apparent attempt at mitigation?
There are deeper issues at play here. Firstly, it’s important to understand that these kinds of lion-human interactions are, fortunately, rare in most parts of the Kafue. Unlike in some other regions of Africa, lions in the Kafue rarely come into contact with people. In part, this is because human settlement along much of the park’s boundary is relatively sparse, and lions that live within the heart of the park rarely venture beyond it - the wilderness landscape is vast.
But this incident—and others like it—highlight an emerging concern. The human population on the peripheries of Kafue National Park is growing. And alarmingly, some of that growth comes from illegal settlement—cattle herders and associated villages establishing themselves right on the boundary of protected areas. In all likelihood, the area where Bon Jovi was ultimately killed was not inhabited until relatively recently. We do not yet know whether his final encounter with cattle occurred in a legally recognised village or in one of these newer, illegal settlements. But the broader pattern is clear and worrying.

Addressing conflict between people and wildlife requires more than just technical solutions. While some advocate for compensation schemes or fencing, these must be approached with caution. Treating illegal settlements the same as legally recognised ones sets a dangerous precedent. It’s a bit like the police damaging a drug dealer’s car during a seizure and then paying him for the inconvenience—it legitimises a problem that needs to be addressed, not rewarded.
The tragedy of Bon Jovi’s death is not just about the loss of one lion. It is emblematic of a broader challenge: how to manage increasing human pressure on the fringes of wild areas, how to uphold the integrity of conservation zones, and how to respond to wildlife conflict with intelligence, compassion, and foresight.
Classic Zambia Safaris has always stood for thoughtful, ethical engagement with the wild. We knew Bon Jovi. We had seen him in his earlier home in Liuwa. And while we understand the fears and frustrations that arise when lions and people collide, we also believe that this case deserved more nuance, more effort, and perhaps a different ending (or start).

We urge our colleagues, partners, and Zambia’s conservation leadership to reflect deeply on what happened here. Not to lay blame—but to ask, with sincerity and urgency: What can we do better next time?
Let us honour Bon Jovi not just with grief, but with action.