From Ivory to Rhino Horn: How Feisal Mohamed Ali Keeps Escaping Justice

The headlines read like a bad joke: Feiswal Mohamed Ali,, once hailed as the face of Kenya’s war on ivory trafficking, is back in court. This time, it’s not elephant tusks, but two rhino horns worth Ksh 8.2 million.

Arrested in Mombasa, Feisal stood before a judge and pleaded not guilty. By his side, co-accused Mohammed Hassan nodded along. For ordinary Kenyans, it feels like déjà vu. For conservationists, it feels like betrayal.

The Rise and Fall and Rise Again

Back in 2014, Feisal wasn’t just another suspect. He was painted as the godfather of ivory smuggling, accused of running a cartel that funneled elephant tusks out of East Africa and into Asia.

Two years later, in 2016, a court found him guilty. His crimes were linked to the slaughter of more than 120 elephants. The judge gave him 20 years in prison, and the world celebrated.

But in 2018, the celebrations turned to ash. The High Court overturned his conviction on a technicality. Feisal walked free after just two years, smirking at a justice system that had once cornered him.

Fast forward to 2025, and here he is again, caught red-handed with rhino horn.

A Timeline of Scandal

• 2014 – Arrested in Mombasa with links to ivory smuggling.
• 2016 – Sentenced to 20 years for trafficking tusks from 120 elephants.
• 2018 – Conviction overturned; released after two years.
• 2025 – Arrested again with rhino horn worth millions.

Whispers of Powerful Protection

For years, rumors have swirled around Feisal’s freedom. Many conservation activists and insiders in Mombasa allege that his ability to walk out of prison in 2018 was not just about “procedural flaws” but about political protection.

His name has been whispered in the same breath as well-connected coastal politicians, who are alleged to have shielded him and his network for years. While no sitting politician has been publicly confirmed in court documents, activists argue that such cartels cannot thrive without powerful friends in government.

Whether those whispers are true or not, one thing is clear: Feisal seems to move with the confidence of someone who knows the system is too weak or too compromised to hold him.

Why This Case Hurts

Kenya calls itself a leader in wildlife conservation. Tourists flock here to see elephants and rhinos in their natural glory. Rangers patrol dangerous terrain day and night, sometimes never returning home.

Yet men like Feisal keep slipping through. Every time he beats the system, it’s not just a personal victory for him; it’s a humiliating defeat for Kenya’s justice system.

The truth is simple: when traffickers like Feisal walk free, it tells the world that Kenya protects cartels better than it protects its wildlife.

The Bitter Truth

Kenya’s image as a conservation hero is at risk. The Big Five are more than just animals; they are the soul of tourism, the pride of Africa, and the lifeblood of communities.

But if the courts keep failing, if traffickers keep walking free, then one day the only place Kenyans will see rhinos and elephants is on old postcards.

And when that day comes, men like Feisal will have won not just because of weak laws, but because of alleged powerful friends who looked the other way.