East Africa's Conservancies and Wildlife Management Areas - the way forward for conservation in Africa?

Courtesy of Nawiri

Jul 31, 2024

Imagine a scenario where you live on the edge of a vast wilderness brimming with wildlife, some of which are the most iconic species on the planet. Each week, people from other countries arrive to see the animals. The wilderness on your doorstep is admired and treasured across the world, but you live on the breadline, making a living off the land with your cattle, or perhaps some goats and sheep.

Sometimes a lion or a leopard takes one of your livestock, or an elephant comes in and destroys your crops, and you're powerless to do anything about it. You look across at the land and see areas where there is grass that your livestock could eat, but you're not allowed to venture there. Your livestock has to be herded further in the opposite direction, often to places where the grass is poorer.

In short, the landscape in your backyard doesn't benefit you in any way. It doesn't feed your children or help educate them. Worst of all, you have no say in how this land is managed or who benefits from the money you know it generates. How would you feel?

We think you would be indignant, frustrated, and perhaps a little angry. While you might still have pride in the wildlife and the fact it generates interest from the wider world, you would be forgiven for also resenting it and having little interest in its future. You might even turn a blind eye to poachers. After all, they are removing a problem for you.

In essence, this is fortress conservation: a system that removes humans and most of their activities from the land, leaving the space purely for wildlife.

At Nawiri, a conservation driven lodge and tourism business, we believe it's essential that the communities that live in or around wildlife areas benefit economically from their existence and are integral to the decision-making and management of them too.

On a blisteringly hot but blustery day on the edge of the Naboisho Conservancy in Kenya, we meet Kotoine Korio, a Maasai landowner who receives a monthly payment for leasing his land to the conservancy. It's community integration in action, and the money he receives represents a sustainable coexistence model. Kotoine is standing near an empty boma, his blue shuka flapping wildly as he contemplates the answer to the question: what difference does living in a wildlife conservancy make to you? There's a hint of mischief in Kotoine's reply: "I want to milk the cows and the wildlife too." It's a half-joke, but the response neatly captures the intricate balance between community livelihoods and wildlife conservation, a crucial aspect of sustainable land management in this part of Kenya.

For Kotoine, and others just like him in the conservancy, wildlife now has a value. He sees a reason to protect the land for the animals, and he's happy that tourists come and enjoy watching the elephants and lions.

"In the conservancy, we can get paid for the land, but can still graze our cattle and sheep," he says. This is important because his pastoral lifestyle is part of his culture, and he needs to do what his family has done for hundreds of years. Kotoine has 200 sheep and 100 cows that need grass, and the managed grazing within the conservancy allows him controlled access to the land but rewards him for allowing the wildlife to flourish.

Africa is home to the last remaining areas with high densities of wild mammals. People and nature should both thrive, working towards a mutually beneficial approach.

East Africa's community-led conservation models, like Kenya's conservancies and Tanzania's Wildlife Management Areas (WMAs), demonstrate an inclusive approach that benefits both wildlife and local communities. There are some differences, but in both, land is set aside and protected, providing benefits to both communities and wildlife. It is a way to unlock financial compensation from the land through activities such as tourism, while managed human activity may still be permitted.

Alistair Nicklin, the general manager of the Naboisho Conservancy, where Kotoine lives and grazes his livestock, believes the model is working well. "You can look at parts of the Mara ecosystem where there hasn't been a conservancy established, and you see an escalation of fencing, a rapid decrease in biodiversity, overgrazing, erosion, disruption of migratory patterns, and an increase in wildlife-human conflict," he explains. "If you're in an area where there is a community that can benefit from being in a conservation zone, then absolutely you need to involve them."

Of course, tourism alone cannot generate enough income for everyone in a community, which is why in Kenya, the Maa Trust was created to increase the benefits that go back to families. "In our social enterprises, such as the Maa Beadwork, we measure success not only by how much money the ladies earn, but also the impact these earnings have on their lives," said Rose Sairowua, the trust's Beadwork Field Operation Supervisor.

Across the border in Tanzania, Randilen WMA stretches as far as the eye can see. Outside the WMA's management office, there is a rocky outcrop you can climb for a 360-degree view of the landscape. It's good to stop and realize that every inch of the visible wilderness here is working for the communities that live nearby.

Wearing a forest-green tunic with shiny brass buttons, Meshurie Melembeki, manager of Randilen WMA, ushers us into his office to talk about their efforts to create a sustainable future for wildlife and people. He is forthright in his thoughts on the differences between the past and present. "The Colonial era left us with fortress conservation models, but these have failed," he says. "The community was excluded and couldn't benefit from the land."

Randilen has contracts with five different tourism companies, all operating lodges inside the WMA. The money generated after taxes is split equally between Randilen member villages and the general management of the WMA. "We need to see a big shift towards community-based conservation, and it’s good that this is starting now," continues Meshurie. "We now have 500,000 people engaged with community conservation via WMAs in Tanzania, bringing employment and opportunity." But he also recognizes the challenge ahead for them: "There is still a long way to go. We have tourism on our land, but the lodge owners aren't from the community. We need to ensure there is more opportunity for local people."

Finance manager Samuel Saruni Mollel is the first professional accountant to be employed in a WMA. Listening to his colleague speak, he nods in agreement, adding that the financial stability of a WMA is vital to the long-term sustainability of its local communities. It's his job to ensure the WMA's budget is on target, track records from entrance gate revenue and tourism levies, and prepare financial reports to present to the community. "Each village has their own plan on how to use their money and they can allocate it as they see fit; building classrooms, water infrastructure, or dispensaries," he explains. "Any community adjacent to a wild area must be the guardian of it, but it can't do that if there are no rewards. A few rangers can’t patrol and protect a wide area, but once the community becomes the eyes and ears of a place, it can work."

Sheila Makindara, head of community at Six Rivers Africa, an NGO created to protect, restore, and preserve wilderness areas, has been carrying out a baseline survey with local villagers around the Usangu wetlands in southern Tanzania.

The Usangu Wetland was added to Ruaha National Park in 2006, meaning people who had used the land as a resource for generations were moved out. These drastic measures were required to protect the wetlands, which were drying out because of human activity, with ramifications for the whole country. Of course, the communities moved off the land are still feeling the effect of the changes today. "A lot of the community have struggled to understand why they can no longer enter the park they have used as a resource for years," said Sheila. It's a very poor region where homes don't have water or electricity. They cook by burning wood and don't see why they can't enter the park to gather it now. There are still a lot of incursions, and they tell me people are only interested in the animals. "We need different actors in the conservation space to focus and find resources for the community. We are looking at a 10-year project to uplift these communities, help them with education, health, wildlife conflict, and discover different ways to earn money."

Ultimately, change is needed to drive community-led conservation forward, so it positively impacts whole communities. Only by enabling the people who live in rural areas to manage the natural world at their fingertips and be rewarded for their efforts can a better future be assured for the land, its wildlife, and the people who live there.