In the dusty plains of Kenya, under a brutal sun and in the grip of a drought, a mother elephant stood over her lifeless calf. She rocked gently, nudged it with her feet, and let out low, haunting rumbles that rippled through the ground like thunder. Wildlife cameramen watching nearby said the sound wasn’t just noise. It was heartbreak. For over an hour, the mother elephant stood guard, unwilling to leave the body. In the animal world, survival usually means moving on, but this elephant couldn’t. She was grieving.
Elephants aren’t just massive creatures with long memories. They are emotional giants with reactions that, at times, feel eerily human. And in the wild, when one of their own dies, their response is something extraordinary.
Elephants Don’t Just Remember. They Mourn.
Across Africa and Asia, researchers have observed elephant herds returning to the bones of dead relatives months — even years — after their death. Some have picked up skulls and tusks with their trunks and examined them closely, almost as if recognising the remains. One young bull in Botswana was seen moving the skull of a familiar elephant while ignoring others nearby. Scientists believe the animal recognised the shape and scent.
Wildlife researcher Dr Kate Evans reported seeing elephants lift jawbones with their tusks, putting them in their mouths, and quietly standing still. It’s as if they were asking, “Is this you?”
In one heartbreaking case, a tame elephant named Cathy cried actual tears when a close companion died. Tears streamed from both eyes while she stood near the body. While researchers are cautious not to call it “human grief,” they agree the signs point to a deep and personal sense of loss.
Death Rituals in the Wild
In the Samburu Reserve of northern Kenya, a dying matriarch named Queen Victoria was surrounded by family as her life faded. Even elephants from other, unrelated herds returned days later to investigate her remains. They sniffed her bones and lingered in silence. Some calves stood beside her and refused to move. They were clearly not indifferent.
When another matriarch named Eleanor died in the same reserve, elephants spent a week interacting with her body. Some gently rocked back and forth. Others stood over her silently, as if in mourning. These elephants weren’t just curious. They were connected.
Elephants have also been seen attempting to bury their dead using branches and grass. In a remarkable case recorded by early naturalist George Adamson, elephants took bones from a relocated carcass and brought them back to the original spot where the elephant had died. Nobody told them where he fell — they just knew.
More Than Just Sorrow
Elephant society is matriarchal. They depend on their leaders to navigate everything from migration to protection. So when a matriarch dies, the herd doesn’t just lose a friend. They lose a guide, a decision-maker, and a source of wisdom. The social structure reshuffles, and each elephant must figure out their new role.
Beyond mourning, elephants express joy, anger, curiosity, and even frustration. They play, they learn, and they communicate using low rumbles that travel through the ground. Some of these sounds can travel over 50 kilometres. Their trunks and feet detect vibrations that we can’t even hear.
So when a baby elephant chases birds through tall grass or when a herd brings its calves to observe humans, they’re not just acting on instinct. They’re exploring their world, sharing experiences, and maybe even telling each other stories — in their own way.
Grief in a World of Danger
Sadly, many elephants never get to grow old. Poaching, drought, and human expansion are pushing them to the brink. In just a few decades, elephant numbers have plunged from millions to hundreds of thousands. Some herds are becoming aggressive, possibly from the trauma of seeing their family members hunted and killed.
When a lone elephant tried to shake a cameraman out of a tree, the team believed it had likely encountered poachers before. That kind of memory lingers. Elephants never forget, but perhaps even more incredibly, they remember with emotion.
What makes this so extraordinary isn’t just that elephants feel something when one of them dies. It’s that they feel so much. In the middle of the wild, far from civilisation, elephants are holding funerals, shedding tears, and mourning the way we do. And they’ve been doing it long before we noticed.
