It is often said that when elephants sense the end of their lives approaching, they quietly leave the herd to die alone in dignity, compassion and peace.

But for Noor Jehan and, later, Sonia, the wild African elephants captured from Tanzania as calves in 2009, no such end was granted. They died in captivity behind iron bars, suffering from disease and isolation, far away from the ecosystems that gave them meaning.

At Karachi Zoo, dozens of wildlife and animal rights volunteers kept round-the-clock vigil around the ailing Noor Jehan, offering her medicines and food, tending to her sores and helping her change sides with the help of a crane. When she succumbed to illness, grief swept across her caretakers.

Sonia followed soon after, dying at the young age of 18 of tuberculosis, a condition rarely seen in wild elephants and often linked to stress in captivity. Her memorial reads: `Bound behind bars, her spirit sought freedom let flowers bloom where she once walked this Earth.

Witnesses to her final days recall a deeply moving scene: one of her surviving two sisters, overcome with grief, striking a lonely tamarind tree with visible rage and sorrow, only to be gently embraced by the other in a heartbreaking moment of solidarity. The display of emotional intelligence and memory reaffirmed that elephants are deeply social and sentient beings.

Captivity breaks not just their bodies, but their spirits too.

A MORAL BLIGHT The death of these elephants is not just a tragedy, but a stark symbol of the growing ethical and ecological concerns surrounding zoos in the modern era. The deaths are the latest in a series of elephant fatalities in Pakistani zoos since 2012, pointing to a broader crisis in captive wildlife management.

In the wild, elephants roam 20 to 25 kilometres a day, foraging, socialising and exercising their cognitive faculties. In contrast, zoo enclosures restrict their movement to a few hundred metres, leading to obesity, joint disorders and the development of stereotypic behaviours, such as repetitive pacing and head-bobbing, which are signs of extreme distress.

And elephants are not alone. Lions, tigers, jackals, bears, zebras and reptiles often share the same fate sourced through illegal wildlife trafficking networks and sold to zoos, both public and private, with little regard for their ecological or emotional needs. Many are left to languish in cramped and understaffed facilities, lacking even the most basic veterinary care and environmental enrichment, making them suffer silently.

The continued existence of zoos is increasingly hard to justify in an era that claims to value conservation, education and animal welfare. Animal rights advocates argue that modern technology, including immersive documentaries and virtual reality, now offer far better tools for education and awareness, without subjecting animals to lifelong confinement.

As public scrutiny intensifies and more deaths such as Noor Jehan and Sonia come to light, one question looms larger than ever: are zoos relics of a bygone era, and is it time finally to shut them down? MAJESTY AND MISERY From the ancient menageries of royalty to the sprawling enclosures of today`s urban zoos, the practice of keeping wild animals in captivity for human entertainment has a long history. But in the face of evolving ethical standards, environmental consciousness and scientific understanding of animal behaviour, zoos increasingly appear as outdated and cruel.

It is time to question whether these institutions originally conceived to display power, later claimed to be repurposed for education and conservation can truly meet the needs of the animals they confine or fulfil the stated aims of education and conservation.

The earliest known zoos date back to ancient civilisations. Pharaohs in Egypt kept exotic animals as early as 2500 BCE. The Romans maintained vast collections of lions, elephants and other creatures, often destined for spectacle in the Colosseum.

During the 18th and 19th centuries, European monarchs showcased private menageries as symbols of imperial might, stocked with animals collected from colonised lands. These collections gradually evolved into public zoos, such as the establishment of the London Zoo in 1828, which shifted the focus toward scientific curiosity and public education.And before we start discussing the plight of animal zoos, let us not forget, we once caged humans too.

The last human zoo shut down less than a century ago only. Marketed as educational and entertaining, these exhibitions displayed men, women and children from colonised regions as exotic specimens of human difference. These were public showcases of racial hierarchy, designed to dehumanise the colonised and glorify the coloniser. Today, we continue the tradition only the species has changed.

ZOOS IN THE SUBCONTINENT Zoos or menageries existed in the Indian Subcontinent long before the arrival of British rule.

However, these were not `zoos` in the modern, public sense. Rather, they were royal collections of exotic animals, maintained by kings and emperors for status, entertainment and, sometimes, religious or symbolic purposes.

Emperor Ashoka, known for his embrace of Buddhism and non-violence, established wildlife protection laws and is said to have maintained parks and reserves that may have functioned somewhat like sanctuaries or menageries.

The Mughal emperors, especially Akbar, Jahangir and Shah Jahan, kept elaborate royal menageries.

Jahangir, in particular, had a keen interest in animals and natural history. His memoirs (Tuzk-i-Jahangirl) describe lions, elephants, antelopes and birds in royal gardens, some of which functioned as early forms of zoological collections.

The first colonial era zoo was founded in Calcutta in 1876, which was modelled on European zoological gardens with public access. Under the British, zoos shifted from private pleasure to public spectacle and colonial control over `exotic nature.

The 20th century witnessed further evolution. Zoos began adopting a conservationist narrative claiming to protect endangered species, support breeding programmes and raise awareness about the natural world. Enclosure design improved from bars and cages to moated exhibits and naturalistic habitats. Yet, these developments remain insufficient when weighed against the reality of what captivity entails for wild animals.

Even the most well-funded modern zoos cannot replicate the complexity of wild ecosystems. Wild elephants need space. Big cats require the challenge of a hunt. Primates depend on social bonds and stimulation.

Captivity imposes confinement, regimentation and social isolation often leading to psychological distress and stereotypic behaviours, such as pacing, rocking or self-harm.

THE NARRATIVE SHIFT While zoos may argue they provide shelter, food and veterinary care, they ultimately fail to meet the cognitive, emotional and ecological needs of the animals.

Pakistan`s zoos are especially dire. These underfunded facilities lack trained veterinarians, basic hygiene, medical and healthcare support, nutritious food and welfare standards. The behaviour of visitors, who often tease and harm animals that are locked up in cramped cages, adds to the cruelty.

Moreover, the conservation argument is flawed.

Only a small percentage of animals in zoos belong to endangered species. And, of those, even fewer are part of credible reintroduction efforts. Zoos also perpetuate a passive model of education one that teaches children to view animals as objects for display rather than sentient beings worthy of respect. True education should foster empathy, not voyeurism.

There are more humane alternatives. Sanctuaries and wildlife rehabilitation centres offer one model. Virtual reality experiences, documentaries and immersive digital tools can provide educational value, without subjecting animals to lifelong captivity.

In a world where climate change, habitat loss and biodiversity collapse demand urgent action, clinging to outdated institutions such as zoos is no longer justifiable. The moral are of our society is bending however slowly towards justice for all sentient life.

The question is not whether zoos can improve, but whether they should exist at all.

Behind every cage is a story of loss: loss of freedom, family, dignity and meaning. It is time we shut the cages and open our hearts to more compassionate ways of connecting with the natural world.

This piece is dedicated to animal rights activists Jude Allen, Mahera Omer, Yusra Askari and Ayesha Chundrigar, who have given precious years oftheir lives for raising awareness about captive animal rights The writer is president, WWF-Pakistan