Telling Wild Connection

Filmmaker Jack Zakrajsek captured something I didn’t know I needed to express. This is my experience—what it meant to walk beside these cheetahs, and how I hope the story inspires more than just awe.

Wild Connection began as an experiment in storytelling more than a fully formed film. Jack and his crew reached out, asking if I’d be willing to let the camera into my world. At first I protested: there was no grand narrative centered on me. But there was a story waiting to be told—one of semi captive cheetahs finding their way back to the wild, cubs discovering freedom and forging new bonds with humans on foot.

When we first came together, we hadn’t even settled on a title. We wandered through the early edits, exploring what felt honest and what rang hollow. It wasn’t until I suggested we focus on the cheetahs—their resilience, their trust in people, and the small ways a human presence can aid their rewilding—that the film truly took shape.

One approach I believe offers real promise is working with cheetahs that have spent time in captivity or semi-captive conditions. Not to encourage removing wild individuals from their natural habitat, but to partner with those already acclimated to human care. By patiently rewilding these cats, we give their cubs a chance to carry their genes back into wild populations across Africa.

I’ve always felt that cheetahs and humans share a deep, ancestral connection—much like the relationship early humans formed with wolves. If wolves could bridge that gap, why not cheetahs? And while I’ve been privileged to cultivate this bond, it’s by no means unique. With patience, respect and the right intention, anyone can learn to stand quietly beside a cheetah mother as her cubs explore, without ever laying a hand on them.

The footage you see in Wild Connection started with hand-raised cubs at Tiger Canyon Private Game Reserve. Over time, those same individuals grew wilder. Yet the essence of our bond never wavered. From the first cautious steps outside their enclosure through their final release, the cats learned that a human on foot could be a comforting presence, not a threat.

That trust opens up new possibilities. Guided walks become an eco-friendly alternative to off-roading and heavy vehicles. Researchers can follow rewilded cheetahs on foot, checking health collars, observing hunting techniques, and recording social dynamics—without disrupting the grass, the birds or the silence of the savannah. It’s conservation in motion, built on empathy rather than distance.

And I dream bigger still. Imagine cheetahs roaming freely through the Karoo once again, mirroring the vast springbok migrations of old. Weaponless walking safaris, foot trails winding between grass plains and rocky outcrops, people tracking cheetah footprints at dawn, learning to read the land as they once did in East Africa’s Serengeti.

Now that Wild Connection is out in the world, my greatest hope is that this little film becomes the spark for something far larger. We’d always dreamed of producing a full-length feature—diving deeper into the rewilding journey, exploring every step from release to cub-raising in the wild—but we weren’t able to raise the funds. With this short film released, I truly believe we can rally the support needed.

I’m eager to tell the next chapter: what happens after those gates open, how the cheetahs adapt day by day, and the incredible moments that follow. Beyond cheetahs, there are countless stories waiting—other animals, other guides, other places—each relationship revealing how humans and wildlife can uplift one another.

In a world where natural habitats have shrunk and fragmented, we can’t afford to stand back. We need hope, we need intervention, and we need movement—literally shifting animals, restoring land, and weaving ourselves back into the wild tapestry. Hands-on conservation doesn’t mean petting or taming; it means rolling up our sleeves, relocating animals when necessary, rewilding former farmlands, and inviting people to fall in love with wildlife again.

We must resist the notion that animals belong locked away or fenced off. Instead, let’s learn each creature’s story, form bonds—even if those bonds live purely in our hearts—and through that love, protect and restore. Picture grasses waving, trees returning, birds singing once more, vegetables and fruits flourishing, and communities reconnected to the earth.

There’s a quiet, unspoken language between cheetahs and those lucky enough to stand beside them. No words are spoken, yet so much is shared. Their grace, their strength, their curiosity—these beautiful creatures teach us more about empathy and coexistence than any lecture ever could. And isn’t it something extraordinary to love without words, to protect without possession, and to hope without limits? That, I believe, is the future of conservation—and the story I’m committed to telling.