Raha’s rehabilitation was always going to be a challenging one. She was rescued in September 2022, when she was just a week old. How she came to be orphaned remains a mystery, but in the short time she was on her own, predators had mauled her rear end, leaving her with a severely injured rectum. Painstaking veterinary intervention rebuilt the area, although a host of untreatable digestive issues remained.

As Raha grew older, these issues became more pronounced. She seemed to understand that anything she consumed had to come out the other end; with her compromised rectum — despite everything we did to ease passage — that could be a fraught business. As a result, she refused to feed as a black rhino typically would, eschewing roughage in favour of soft leaves and grasses. She always had a healthy appetite for her bottles of fortified milk and preferred snacks, which was a blessing, but she simply refused to consume the quantity and variety of vegetation that black rhinos require. As a result, she remained tiny for her age and had a distinctive pot belly.

As we have shared in the past, Raha’s journey was one of peaks and troughs. She had setbacks, but we supported her through these and took things one day at a time. In our heart of hearts, we suspected that Raha might never make it to old age, but we were determined to do everything we could for her.

And one thing is certain: Raha loved her life. Despite all she was up against, her spirit never faltered. She was a happy little rhino — extremely stubborn, quietly curious, and demanding of her Keepers, who she absolutely adored. The feeling was mutual; everyone at the Nursery vied to be on Raha duty.

She started her mornings only when she was good and ready, resolutely sleeping in for as long as she liked — but then it was like an alarm went off. Led by her Keeper, she trotted out of her stable with purpose and spent the day exploring the crystalline springs, rocky outcrops, and soft forest floor of Nairobi National Park. Her days were punctuated by plenty of stops, so she could suckle on her Keepers’ trouser legs, which she treated like a security blanket.

We generally keep orphaned rhinos and elephants apart, as the species do not mix in the wild. However, our mini matriarchs Mzinga and Nyambeni — who are remarkably intuitive — would not be told otherwise. They were besotted with Raha and would find any reason to go looking for her in the forest. Raha felt completely at ease in their company, even napping beneath their bodies as they stood protectively over her. It was as if the elephants understood that Raha was compromised and in need of extra support.

Raha had been making progress in recent months. She had a few wobbles with her stools, which was unfortunately normal given her condition, but she was otherwise eating well and even putting on some weight, albeit within the frame of her unusual physique.

However, on Friday morning, she started exhibiting symptoms that looked like colic. We immediately consulted with our veterinary team, who took bloods and determined that she actually had a bacterial infection. We managed to stabilise her that day and felt tentative hope, as we kept vigilant watch for any change. She had her evening milk as usual, but collapsed shortly thereafter and never woke up.

We subsequently performed an autopsy, which revealed that Raha’s liver and kidneys were severely compromised. We await more comprehensive results from the samples taken, but we always feared this might ultimately be the case with Raha. However, given her healthy appetite for her milk feeds and obvious contentment, we took every day as a win.

Even when you brace yourself for a life that might be cut short, nothing can fully prepare you for it. All of us are left reeling from the loss of our little Nursery mascot. As you process Raha’s passing, please know you are not alone — we share in your grief and are so sorry to be the bearers of this devastating news.

And while Raha’s story was overshadowed by a great setback that proved impossible to overcome, that is not what defined her life. Truly, Raha’s life was defined by the meaning of her name in Swahili — joy.

Raha was cherished by her ‘team in green’, who attended to her every need, day and night — and she certainly loved to be fussed over. Standing contentedly as her Keeper swaddled not one, not two, but three cosy blankets over her belly — squeaking with excitement as she forded a small stream — settling beneath Nyambeni’s belly for an afternoon kip — for us, these moments of quiet joy are the ones that will define Raha’s life. We hope they bring you comfort, too.

Raha was taken from us too soon, but we truly believe she is in a better place. Now, she joins the bright constellation of those who watch over us in the great beyond.