In the small Colombian village of Doradal, the presence of a growing population of hippopotamuses—descendants of four hippos imported by drug lord Pablo Escobar in the 1980s—is reshaping local ecosystems and daily life. These massive, non-native animals, now estimated to number around 200, roam freely along the Magdalena River and its surroundings, sparking debate among residents, conservationists, and government officials.
After Escobar’s death in 1993 and the subsequent decline of his sprawling Hacienda Nápoles estate, the hippos escaped captivity and began to multiply in the wild. Without natural predators such as lions or crocodiles, the hippo population has expanded rapidly in a region ill-equipped to manage their impact. Scientists estimate the herd could exceed 1,000 by 2035, posing significant risks to native species like manatees and capybaras, and potentially altering riverbank vegetation and water chemistry, which threatens local fisheries.
For communities like Doradal, the hippos represent both a peculiar attraction and a source of disruption. Fishermen report declining night catches and growing fears of encounters with the animals, whose territorial behavior and sheer size make them dangerous. In one serious incident in 2020, a farmer suffered broken ribs after a hippo attack. Officials acknowledge that increased interactions may raise the risk of fatal accidents.
Colombian authorities have wrestled with how to address the expanding population. Efforts to relocate hippos internationally have met limited success, and castration programs, requiring large teams and operating under challenging conditions, have not halted the herd’s growth. Following a controversial culling in 2009, which sparked public outrage after a photo of soldiers posing with a dead hippo circulated, a judicial ban on lethal measures was imposed.
In April 2024, the government announced a new $2 million plan to euthanize approximately 80 hippos as part of a broader strategy to reduce numbers while continuing relocation efforts. The plan involves chemically sedating and euthanizing animals that can be corralled, with others potentially shot and buried onsite. This approach has provoked mixed reactions, dividing the local community and drawing criticism from animal rights advocates as well as conservationists who stress the ecological threat posed by the hippos.
The debate also touches on deeper issues related to Colombia’s perception of Escobar’s legacy. For many in Doradal, the hippos have become an unofficial emblem of the town and a growing tourist draw, complicating consensus on culling. Residents express conflicting emotions, recognizing the animals as invasive yet also as living reminders of a turbulent history.
“We have to eliminate or move them, but they are just animals, not responsible for Escobar’s choices,” said Samy Castaño, a local resident. His 11-year-old daughter added, “I don’t want them to kill them,” recalling a close encounter when a hippo approached her home.
Meanwhile, scientists and officials stress urgency, emphasizing the difficulty of controlling such a large invasive species without intervention. Katherine Corrales, an invasive species expert with the government environmental agency in Boyacá, warned of inevitable accidents as the hippos spread. With the government poised to implement the culling plan later this year, Doradal’s community and Colombia as a whole face a complex challenge balancing ecological protection, public safety, and ethical concerns over a legacy born in the era of drug cartels.
