CHEETAH

Namiri Plains, Serengeti · Mama Sita and her family

The hunt I could not photograph.

MASAI MARA, KENYA

Cheetah portrait, dark tones, black and white fine art print, Serengeti Tanzania — Deanna DeShea

My first morning in the Masai Mara, I watched five cheetah brothers take down a topi.

What I was not prepared for was the strategy. Each brother had a role. They moved in silence across the open savannah, spread wide, and waited. Below them, a mother topi was licking her newborn clean — the calf still unsteady on its legs, still wet.

I had my camera raised. Then I put it down.

It moved too fast for the lens. The dust, the sound of hooves, the five brothers coming from every angle simultaneously. What brought the topi down in the end was not speed. It was the moment she looked back to find her calf. That single backward glance. And they were on her from all sides.

With the camera at my side, I watching the calf run.

I had never felt joy and sorrow at the same time so completely. Africa would keep teaching me that lesson — that life and death are not opposites here. They are the same breath.

Black and white cheetah portrait with detailed spotted coat and calm, focused expression.

What the Cheetah Carries

People ask what the cheetah means — as a symbol, as a presence, as an animal that has followed human civilisation for thousands of years.

Dating back to 1700 BC, the Egyptians kept cheetahs not as pets but as emblems of royalty. That reverence never disappeared.
It simply changed shape.

I can only tell you what I have observed.

A cheetah does not announce itself. It is the fastest land animal on earth and yet it hunts in full daylight — no ambush, no darkness, no advantage except precision and the willingness to commit completely.

When it fails — and it fails more than it succeeds — it reads the landscape and moves again.

That is the symbol. Not speed. Not power.

Readiness.

Remove the cheetah and the landscape changes. That is not metaphor. It is documented ecology.

As skilled predators, cheetahs play a critical role in maintaining the balance of their ecosystem. By controlling prey populations, a single healthy cheetah territory can shape the movement of entire herds — and with it, the grasslands they graze.

In the past four decades, cheetahs have lost 77% of their historical range. They now occupy less than 9% of the land they once moved through freely — pushed out by habitat loss, human conflict, and the illegal wildlife trade.

The cheetah population confronts serious threats including habitat loss, human conflict, climate change, prey scarcity, and the illegal trade of cubs into the exotic pet market.

Fewer than 7,100 remain in the wild.

Of those, only around 1,900 are in protected areas. The rest move through unprotected land — corridors shared with livestock, farms, and roads.

This is why the conservancy matters. This is why where I choose to photograph matters.

Together in this uncompromising wilderness, their first weapon is one another.

MAMA SITA

Mama Sita is on the mound with three almost fully grown cubs and a young female sitting close beside her. All of them watching the same horizon. All of them alive because of her.

The young female is Darlene. Mama Sita adopted her in 2018 — folding her into her own litter of three male cubs as though the distinction meant nothing. The following year she raised a sixth cub. Another life taken in. Another one brought to independence.

The Serengeti Cheetah Project documented her for years. They called her a supermom — not as sentiment, but as fact. Large litters, successful raises, adoptions. She did what cheetahs rarely do, repeatedly, across multiple seasons.

Last seen in 2022, she was suffering from mange. The Serengeti Cheetah Project has confirmed she is no longer alive. Darlene survived.

She has her own cubs now, on the same plains where Mama Sita raised her. The bloodline continues. The Namiri Plains hold it still. This image was made on one of those plains — the whole family on the mound, watching.

I did not know then what I know now about who she was. But the camera knew she was worth the stillness.

It was evening when we found her.

My guide spotted her first — a cheetah mother settled beneath a wide, low acacia at the edge of the road. Three cubs moving through the branches above her like the tree had been placed there specifically for them.

The light was golden and orange, the kind that only happens in those last twenty minutes before it is gone. It caught their coats — still soft and fuzzy the way only cubs are — and turned them amber.

Kisieku lay on the ground completely at ease. She knew we were there. She did not mind.

The cubs jumped and tumbled and licked their paws and regarded us with that calm, wide curiosity that young things have before the world teaches them otherwise. Dust rising from their little feet each time they landed.

I got down to ground level. Caught the dirt, the light, the chaos of three small spotted bodies completely absorbed in the business of being alive.

Samburu holds a small, distinct population of cheetahs — fewer than the Mara, quieter, adapted to the particular demands of arid land. Kisieku is one of its most recognised mothers.

I have never felt so welcome in a moment that was not mine.

7,100
LEFT IN THE WILD

The cheetah is Africa’s most endangered big cat. Not the most famous. The most endangered.

Two cheetah cubs together, warm light, Serengeti Tanzania — Deanna DeShea

EXOTIC CAPTIVES

Cheetahs have been kept by royalty and ruling classes for over 5,000 years — valued for their speed, their trainability, their stillness in captivity.

That history has never fully ended.

Today, cheetahs are caught illegally across the Horn of Africa and sold into the exotic pet trade, primarily into the Arabian Peninsula. The price for a live cub runs to $8,000 or more. The survival rate in captivity is poor. Most die within a year.

For every cub that reaches a buyer, several more die in transit.

The demand does not come from poverty. It comes from status. And it is one of the quietest, least-reported drivers of cheetah decline on the continent.

field notes

The Cheetah

Claw tips always visible
Purr, don’t roar
~2,000 spots
Males form small groups
Semi-retractable claws
Black tear marks block sun
Speed up to 128 km/h
Light, aerodynamic frame
Turn mid-air while sprinting
Long tail for balance

Close-up portrait of a cheetah, black and white fine art print, Serengeti Tanzania — Deanna DeShea