There’s a subtle kind of magic that comes with late afternoons in the bush. Just before the sun dips below the horizon, the air becomes cool and still—the world is caught somewhere between day and night. It was on one such evening, while following the fading tracks of a leopardess near a dry riverbed, that we heard the unmistakable whoop of a hyena echoing across the landscape. Haunting and ancient, the sound drew us in, unknowingly guiding us to one of the most captivating wildlife moments I’ve experienced time at a hyena den.

A mother looks at her cub. The cub looks back with its head held low in submission.

To many, hyenas are deeply misunderstood. Overshadowed by their portrayal as scavengers or villains, their true story is far more complex—and far more beautiful. Nowhere is this more evident than at a den site, where new life quietly unfolds beneath the earth.

We eased our way through the last golden rays of the day, moving toward the direction of the persistent whooping. Hyena dens are often hidden away in abandoned aardvark burrows or old termite mounds—sheltered spaces that provide safety for the clan’s youngest and most vulnerable members. These dens are the heart of the hyena’s social structure, where the next generation is nurtured.

That evening, guided by sound and instinct, we parked at a distance with a clear view of the entrance. Everything was still—so quiet it dared you to blink. Then, as if on cue, a small black head emerged, ears twitching, nose sniffing the breeze.

And just like that, the world shifted.

The smallest cub in the respective litters was quick and eager to work out exactly what the vehicle was all about.

Shades of Chocolate and Curiosity

Hyena cubs are born pitch black, a sharp contrast to the adults’ spotted coats. This colouration helps camouflage them in the shadows of the den and also serves to indicate their age within the clan. These little bundles, with wide eyes and oversized paws, brim with boldness and curiosity—often charging out of the den with more confidence than coordination.

Over the past few weeks, we’ve been fortunate enough to visit the den repeatedly, witnessing the transformation firsthand. The cubs at this particular den site span three age groups, from as young as eight weeks to nearly eight months. The older cubs now sport the familiar spotted coats, and their individual personalities are beginning to shine.

One particularly confident cub is always the first to approach the vehicle—tail high, head cocked—while its sibling prefers to hang back, content to chew on a stick or playfully wrestle with a clump of grass.

Spotted hyenas are innately curious, especially at a young age. This young cub found a fallen log and spent the better part of the afternoon gnawing at its edge—an early exercise in jaw strengthening for the bone-crunching feats ahead.

Watching these young hyenas interact is a lesson in social learning. They test boundaries, mimic each other’s behaviours, and jostle for position, all within a framework of rules defined by the matriarchal society they were born into. Even at a few weeks old, the influence of rank is already present—cubs of high-ranking females nurse more often and have better access to prime sleeping spots within the den.

The Hyena Den is still very entertaining.

Matriarchy and Mystery

Hyenas live in tightly structured matriarchal clans. Females are larger, more dominant, and remain within their birth clan for life, while males typically disperse as they mature. The communal den acts as a hub—a lively stage where cubs, mothers, and even the occasional visiting male interact in both playful and calculated ways.

On one occasion, we watched an older cub try to drag a discarded bone into the den, only to be cleverly outwitted by a younger, more nimble cub. The chase that followed was better than any game of tag—fast, strategic, and full of character. It’s in moments like these that the myth of the ruthless hyena begins to dissolve. These are highly intelligent, emotionally rich animals, exhibiting social behaviours more akin to primates than we often give them credit for.

A Clan’s Care

While each mother tends to her own cubs, the communal den becomes a place where bonds form and personalities are shaped. We’ve seen aunts groom their nieces, older cubs play gently with younger cubs, and mothers fiercely defend the entrance from potential threats. The bond between a mother and her cub is especially moving—gentle nuzzles, low groans of reassurance, and watchful eyes that never stray far from the burrow.

This female, nursing one of her cubs, kept her head raised, scanning the surroundings with vigilance. Her focus was unwavering, her purpose clear: protect and nurture.

On this memorable afternoon, the cubs emerged—dust-ridden and energized, tumbling over one another in the golden light. At that moment, it was impossible not to feel a deep sense of awe. Despite their fearsome reputation, here were young lives full of play and innocence, thriving under the care of a tightly knit clan.

Spending time at a hyena den peels back the layers of misunderstanding surrounding one of Africa’s most remarkable predators. It reminds us that behind every species—regardless of reputation—lies a deeper story. A softer story.

So the next time you hear the eerie whoop of a hyena in the night, let it awaken your curiosity instead of fear. Somewhere out there, beneath a mound of earth or in the shadows of the bush, new life might just be stirring—stretching, yawning, and ready to take its first bold steps into the wild.