By Guy Pfeffermann

Livestock and wildlife live along the Ewaso River in Kenya’s northern rangelands, a region frequently affected by prolonged droughts. Livestock are existential for the Samburu people in the region. In the words of Lavias Lekuuk, a Samburu elder: “We are a pastoralist community. Cows are the most important to us. We do not do any other thing. We do not farm. We do not fish. Our relationship with our cows and goats is our livelihood, to provide for our families.” [i]

Samburu communities have coexisted with wildlife forever. Young warriors would, in the past, demonstrate their strength and power by killing lions, tracking them, and hunting them. That changed a long time ago and evolved to the point where warriors would only go out to track lions when their livestock were killed.

The communities are finding it increasingly difficult to coexist with wildlife as the threats and challenges to their livelihoods intensify. Dr. Shivani Bhalla, founder of Ewaso Lions, notes that, as a result, “Lions in Africa are in huge trouble. There are only about 20,000 lions left, and they have lost about 90% of their original range. Northern Kenya is a really hard area for them. They struggle to survive. There is not enough space for them, and the habitat is shrinking quickly. Most importantly, they do not have enough food. There are not enough wild prey for lions.”[ii]

Mobilizing Youth

Ewaso Lions was founded in 2007 when a Nairobi research student, Shivani Bhalla, met Jeneria Lekilelei, a young Northern Kenyan pastoralist,[iii] in an area where only eleven lone lions were left. He proposed a program called Warrior Watch. He and his friends would take their peers on a tracking expedition to find lions. However, instead of killing them, it was to protect both the lions and the livestock. From its very inception, community norms and input guided the development of Ewaso Lions.

The organization no longer focused solely on keeping livestock alive, but also included lion well-being. Jeneria Lekilelei said, “This is what I want to do. I want to be driving and looking for lions. I want to be with lions. I want to understand them. I want to see what they are really like. Because everything I know about lions is so negative, they keep killing my cows. But let me actually see lions in a natural environment, doing what lions do, hunting wild prey, sleeping, playing.” [iv]

Over the past 15 years, he has stood between lions and elders who were walking towards lions with knives, and he stood before them and said, “No, you cannot kill these lions.” What makes this approach continue to work after all these years is the fact that a warrior himself designed the program. Today’s generation of students and young herders – “the TikTok Group” – enjoys the Lion Kids Camp program. Children arrive very shy, scared, and quiet and a little bit suspicious, and they leave not wanting to go. To date, over 1500 children have taken part.

Reviving Women’s Role

“When you have meetings, our culture does not allow women to stand up when they are talking. Women are supposed to cook for men and bring water for them. Every right belongs to men. If women do not follow the men, they will be cursed. They believe that if you get cursed, you will die. You have no option; it is like a law. And it is very hard to change.”[v]

“Samburu women have a belief that many years ago, wildlife was taken away from them – giraffe walked away, which represents camels, zebras walked away, which represent donkeys, and it was moved away from them, and they needed to come back because it’s the women who take care of wildlife“.[vi]

When they saw what Jeneria and his friends were doing, Munteli Lalparasaroi, a Samburu lady,[vii] came up and said that they too wanted to be involved in lion conservation. She started the Mama Simba (Mother of Lions) program, another example of the community taking the initiative to create its own program and knowing what is best for them and their wildlife. Today, there are 21 Mama Simba groups. They focus on restoring the lion habitat.

Dotted beside the Ewaso River, one sees green clumps of bushes called “toothbrush trees” (Salvadora Persica). Samburu use the thorns as toothbrushes, hence the name. These “tree oases” are strategic “conservation areas” which are crucial to lion survival. Lions sleep under the bushes during the day, hiding from people, and hunt at night. Toothbrush trees are being displaced by mesquite, an invasive species that is taking over their habitat. Mama Simba groups have been removing mesquite one by one and are about to start a tree nursery for toothbrush trees.

They are also planting grass in very degraded areas, digging semi-circular berms which trap water. These are very effective and fill up quickly. The Mama Simba groups harvest the grass seeds and then plant them in other areas. More grass growing will support more prey for lions, thereby reducing conflict with livestock.

Today, there are more than sixty lions in the area, an increase from the eleven counted in 2007.

Improving Well-being

According to Dr. Bhalla: “Today, there is so much more computer time and meetings and phones. We forget about connecting to nature. I think of my childhood. I grew up in the mud. I mean, I used to play outside, and that just does not happen anymore. I feel that reconnection to nature is so important for our well-being. When you do connect to nature is when it makes sense and you want to do as much as you can to protect it in whatever way possible.”[viii]

Looking Forward

Ewaso Lions is spearheading an initiative to share knowledge about community-led conservation. In 2024, conservationists from around the world came to Samburu and spent a week sharing their experiences. Building on this, an open-source interactive website will serve to share information, including case studies from around the world. A framework document for community-led conservation is being drafted, all of which will inform an international conference to be held in Nairobi in November 2026.

Guy Pfeffermann was the Chief Economist of the International Finance Corporation from 1988 to 2006, and Founder and former CEO (2002-2017) of the Global Business School Network (GBSN). He is the President and Founder of Management Skills for Wildlife Conservation (MSWC), an NGO established in 2018. The MSWC supports a Leadership and Management Program (LAMP) in East Africa that equips community-based conservation practitioners with the practical tools they need to lead, manage and conserve more effectively.

---

[i] Source: Light for Wildlife, a documentary film, forthcoming (2026)
[ii] Source: Podcast interview: https://forcesfornature.com/podcast/shivani-bhalla-ep-105/
[iii] See biographies at: https://ewasolions.org/our-team/
[iv] Podcast interview, ibid.
[v] Lavias Lekuuk, op.cit.
[vi] Dr. Bhalla, op.cit.
[vii] See biography at: https://ewasolions.org/our-team
[viii] Podcast interview, ibid.

Published on December 22, 2025

• The inclusion of women in Africa’s lion conservation efforts is essential to not only to protect the species, but to do so sustainably with the buy-in of nearby communities — which at times can have a tense and challenging relationship with the predatory species, say members of the Mama Simba, a program within Ewaso Lions made up of Samburu women in Kenya.
• The women say they remember how, when they were young, wildlife was in abundance, that their parents and grandparents lived alongside wildlife in harmony and that lions held a powerful place in their culture, identity and daily lives.
• “Everything changes when women are not asked to sit on the sidelines but invited to lead,” they say in this opinion piece.
• This commentary is part of the Voices from the Land series, a compilation of Indigenous-led opinion pieces. The views expressed are those of the authors, not necessarily Mongabay.

This series, Voices from the Land, brings together opinion pieces led and written by Indigenous peoples from around the world. Through these commentaries, we share our lived realities and reflections on urgent issues shaping our time — environmental destruction, our relationship with nature, and systemic injustice. We write from the heart of our communities, where the impacts of these urgent crises are deeply felt, but also where solutions are rooted. Through this series, we speak from our territories, and ensure our truths are part of the global conversation.

We, the Mama Simba (“Mothers of Lions” in Kiswahili) from Samburu, Kenya, have come a long way since we first approached the organization Ewaso Lions to become actively involved in its conservation work.

Since 2007, Ewaso Lions has been working to support human-lion coexistence in a region of northern Kenya, today home to nearly 60 lions. When they were approached by us women from the Samburu community in 2013, it was a sign that a shift was about to happen — we wanted to be decision-makers in conservation efforts that concern us.

However, with every new initiative comes a new challenge. Would we be accepted as decision makers? The program, Mama Simba, was built on the premise that if women, historically excluded from conservation decisions despite bearing its greatest burdens, were encouraged to lead conservation efforts, we could transform our community’s relationship with lions from conflict to coexistence. It acknowledged that lasting change requires shifting power, not just perceptions.

This sounds good on paper, but what about the reality on the ground? How could we be part of the decision-making process rather than silent witnesses watching our community’s heritage disappearing?

It has been more than a decade since Mama Simba was formed. Today, the acceptance of women in governance positions can be seen.

It proves that the inclusion of women in Africa’s lion conservation efforts is essential to not only to protect the species, but to do so sustainably with the buy-in of nearby communities — which at times can have a tense and challenging relationship with the predatory species. In villages like Sasaab, Naisunyai, and Remot, us women who once had no say in conservation decisions are now trusted leaders whom entire communities rely on for lion reporting and conflict prevention.

The Samburu community is patriarchal. For a long time, women had not been included in decision-making processes. Therefore, when we started making decisions on our own, it brought a significant change. Think about it. Women in rural areas interact with wildlife as much as men do as we fetch water and collect firewood as part of our livelihood. We see everything, and culturally we believe wildlife belong to us. Yet our voices were silent.

We wanted to see how we could come together and work towards being part of the solution. It was also about how we could not only contribute to a species that was killed as a retaliatory measure, but see how our families could also benefit in the conservation process. Community-led conservation is about letting the community take action from the beginning. Letting us take that initiative and it belonging to us makes it even more impactful.

A renewed relationship with lions

For the Mama Simba, we want our children and the coming generations to understand why nature is important. We remember how, in the past, the Ewaso Nyiro River flowed for a much longer period. “We broke its rules,” a member of the Mama Simba reflects, “and now it dries up.” We have seen how lions and other carnivores were often killed when they killed our livestock.

Munteli, the Mama Simba manager, remembers how in the past, the relationship between people and wildlife was defined by conflict: “When a lion killed livestock, the morans [male warriors] would track down the lion and its death would be celebrated.” Lions were feared, and they started disappearing from landscapes where they had called home and roamed freely. Women, then, could not give an opinion on this as they just observed.

But here is the thing. The Mama Simba also remembers how, when we were young, wildlife was in abundance, and our parents and grandparents lived alongside wildlife in harmony. Oral traditions among the Samburu community and other pastoralist communities who have lived alongside wildlife for centuries can attest to how wildlife was respected and valued. Clans and families have totems symbolized by wildlife. This continues, and as a result, conservation through community-led initiatives such as this seeks to bring Indigenous knowledge and science together to solve today’s conservation challenges.

For Mama Simba members, wildlife has a deep cultural meaning that shapes our daily lives. We believe that all wildlife has a purpose on Earth, with each species playing an important role in the landscape. Beyond their ecological importance, wildlife has vital economic assets, creating employment opportunities for communities that protect them. But even more crucially, wildlife has always been in Samburu oral traditions, stories, and spiritual beliefs.

Lions have a powerful place in Samburu culture. Traditional beliefs hold that when a lion roars at night, it signals good fortune coming to the community. Lions are so central to Samburu identity that their symbolism must be present even in wedding and initiation ceremonies. Even livestock predation carries spiritual meaning. If a lion kills livestock within the homestead at night, rather than far away, it is interpreted as a good omen of abundance, a sign that more livestock will come to the boma (livestock enclosure).

For generations, lions have served as symbols of Samburu identity and pride. While this cultural recognition was diminished in recent decades, not by choice, but as conflict intensified under the pressures of resource competition and exclusionary conservation models, retaliatory killings became common. The Mama Simba program has assisted communities in reclaiming this aspect of our heritage, recognizing that coexistence requires addressing not just attitudes, but the systemic inequities that fuel conflict in the first place.

The shift represents not an adoption of new values, but a reclamation of what was always ours: a view in which lions and people are bound together, each important to the other’s story.

The evidence

Ewaso Lions’ recent analysis of the Mama Simba program shows that the numbers tell a compelling story. Among us Mama Simba members, 94% strongly agree we feel more positive about lions today and that lions are vital to Samburu culture. Sixty-nine percent of Mama Simba members and 50% of non-members reported having avoided killing a lion or prevented retaliation in the last five years because of program interventions.

The Mama Simba program has grown far beyond our original mandate, developing a comprehensive approach to wildlife encounters that can be applied across species. Where once a lion sighting might trigger alarm and potential retaliation, it now activates an early warning network created by Mama Simba members working alongside the Warrior Watch program at Ewaso Lions which alerts livestock herders of a nearby lion.

This transformation has produced tangible results. Through our involvement in lion reporting and patrols, we are preventing both livestock losses and retaliations. The numbers speak for themselves: Mama Simba households lose an average of just 1.9 animals per year to lions, compared with 3.4 animals lost by nonmember households. Even more significantly, 44% of program members confirmed that timely reporting directly prevented livestock losses, early warnings that allowed herders to protect their animals before conflicts could escalate.

But our story extends far beyond conflict prevention.

As we moved through the landscapes on patrol, we began to see our home through new eyes. We recognized that the habitat itself was under threat, choked by the invasive species Prosopis juliflora, locally known as Mathenge, which was diminishing wildlife habitat and reducing the forage available for our livestock.

We responded by becoming environmental stewards. We are now constantly removing these invasive species from our communities while simultaneously planting indigenous trees like the toothbrush tree (Salvadora persica), which lions prefer for refuge.

Our habitat recovery work also includes grass reseeding and the construction of circular bunds, simple earthen structures that capture rainwater in this semi-arid region. These techniques allow grass to grow where bare soil once dominated, slowly but steadily rebuilding degraded landscapes.

Perhaps most tangibly, 94% of Mama Simba members have been directly involved in creating or maintaining water points such as pans and wells during dry seasons. These water pans, which can support between 50 and 250 animals each, benefit livestock, wildlife, and households simultaneously. By reducing competition for scarce water resources, we are addressing one of the primary drivers of human-wildlife conflict while building community resilience against drought as a result of climate change.

Our effort is far from over. It continues to evolve as new women join our program, new challenges emerge, and new opportunities arise.

But the foundation has been firmly laid for a different kind of relationship between people and wildlife, one built not on conflict and retaliation born from marginalization and inequity, but on coexistence, mutual benefit, and shared prosperity. A model where communities are not asked to sacrifice for conservation, but lead it and benefit from it. Where women’s voices shape decisions. Where conservation does not come from outside, but grows from within, as it has always been.

What began as an effort to protect lions has grown into a holistic model of community-led conservation that recovers habitats, protects livelihoods, and rebuilds the cultural bonds between our people and the wildlife with whom we share our home. Everything changes when women are not asked to sit on the sidelines but invited to lead.

Banner image: Samburu women part of the Mama Simba program. Image by Anthony Ochieng/Ewaso Lions.

Mama Simba is a program within Ewaso Lions made up of Samburu women in Kenya who are working to mitigate human-lion conflict and lead conservation efforts. Victoria Wanjohi is a wildlife conservation scientist and the director and storytelling lead at the TonyWild Foundation.

The series is produced by the collective Passu Creativa, with the support of Earth Alliance, and published by Mongabay.

Published on 6 November 2025.

 

FT Magazine Life & Arts: The Kenyan conservationist on the animals she loved and the battle to protect her country’s wildlife

Shivani Bhalla on tracking lions: ‘You get to know them so well’

By Hester Lacey

The Financial Times’ Hester Lacey sat down with Ewaso Lions’ founder, Shivani Bhalla, and they shared a conversation about the changing landscape of lion conservation and about the influences that brought Shivani into the conservation space.

What is your earliest memory? Going on safari with my parents and sister. When I was eight, I saw my first cheetah. I was the one who spotted it, and I was really excited.

Who was or still is your mentor?
I’m lucky to come from a family of very strong women, especially on my mum’s side.

How fit are you? I’ve had a lot of health challenges. In this work, you spend a lot of time driving on very bumpy roads, which is terrible for your body. I walk my dogs every day. Yoga can really help — I just wish I was more disciplined.

Tell me about an animal you have loved. I was four when my parents got me my first dogs, Mork and Mindy. I currently have two very special dogs, Kura and Nanyori. Kura walked into my life 10 years ago, lost and limping. People say I rescued him, but I say he rescued me. His name means “vote”, as he arrived on our election day. We have set up a domestic animal welfare programme called Kura’s Pride. And there have been a few lions in the past 20 years, two in particular: Nashipai, “the joyful one”, a brilliant mother, a fantastic hunter and the first lion I really got to know, and Naramat, “the caring one”, who taught me how hard it is for lions to survive. You get to know the lions so well — you spend hours tracking them and monitoring them. Losing one is really hard.

Risk or caution, which has defined your life more? Both. When I started Ewaso Lions, I had nothing — no finances, no team, no strategy — and I had left a very secure job. But as the project’s grown, I feel much more responsibility, and that has made me much more cautious.

What trait do you find most irritating in others?
Dishonesty. Selfishness.

What trait do you find most irritating in yourself?
I am always trying to be in control — and I worry about everything.

What drives you on? A really strong sense of duty as a Kenyan. I want to do whatever I can to make my country better, and whatever I can so that in 10, 20, 30, 50 years there will still be lions here and other wildlife. My team and the community motivate and inspire me. They have so much courage. It’s not easy to live alongside lions, and it’s not easy for the lions to live alongside the community.

Do you believe in an afterlife? Yes and no. It makes me feel better to think maybe everyone I’ve lost I’ll be able to see again. But I always try to explain things, and I can’t explain the afterlife.

Which is more puzzling, the existence of suffering or its frequent absence?
Neither. It’s about the way we approach suffering. If we are more positive, the impact is less.

Name your favourite river. I’ve lived right by a river for 20 years, Ewaso Nyiro, “the brown river”, which gives its name to Ewaso Lions. It’s the life of this whole region. Communities, livestock and wildlife depend on it. It used to be fast-flowing with big waves, but since 2009 it has dried up frequently. We’ve been busy digging waterholes.

What would you have done differently? I shy away from conflict. I wish I had had the courage to have those difficult conversations and to look at difficult situations in a positive way.

 

Shivani Bhalla is the founder of Ewaso Lions, Kenya, and winner of the 2023 Whitley Fund for Nature Gold Award. The 2023 Whitley Awards will be streamed live on April 26

 

The sun is rising high over northern Kenya, the air is hot and dry, and a young man is quietly making his way through the rocky scrubland that stretches for miles in every direction. His name is Lkasian Leringato and he is bare-chested and adorned with the elaborate bead jewellery – necklaces, bracelets and headpieces – that mark him as a warrior of the Samburu people. He is alert, picking his steps and scanning the landscape carefully. As a warrior, one of his responsibilities is to keep his tribe’s livestock safe from harm, and so today he is alone in the bush looking for lions. The need to protect Samburu goats, cattle and camels from these predators is so vital that, according to tradition, a warrior cannot truly call himself a man until he has killed a lion. The 22-year-old keeps moving softly forward, alive to the sight or sound of Africa’s biggest cat. But Leringato has no desire to prove himself by killing a lion.

In fact the idea would horrify him. This is because he and many other young Samburu warriors have made it their mission to preserve the small number of lions that remain in this part of east Africa. Each day, he and his friends will head into the unforgiving landscape to track and monitor the local lion population and, where necessary, intervene whenever an angry herdsman wants to shoot one of the animals in retaliation for the killing of livestock. How did the Samburu people go from being the lions’ chief persecutors to their principal protectors? And why is this dramatic shift being heralded as a model that can change the nature of animal conservation on a global scale? To answer these questions we must stay with Leringato as he returns to a small camp, where he takes a seat in the shade beneath an awning. Beside him is Dr Shivani Bhalla, a zoologist, conservationist and director of an organisation called Ewaso Lions, which she founded here, in the lands near the Ewaso river, in 2007.

Bhalla is 45 and petite, with a bright, open face. She describes how, despite having grown up in the capital, Nairobi, she spent much of her childhood travelling to the more remote regions of Kenya, where her father, who was a rally driver, would compete in crosscountry motor races. “People laugh, because he drove really fast, but I have a reputation for being the slowest driver,” she says, chuckling. At the age of eight, while on safari with her family, she spotted her first cheetah. “And from that moment, I developed a huge obsession with cheetahs and the bush. I just did whatever I could to be near wildlife,” she says. “I still have the photo I took of it in the long grass.” She began to plaster her bedroom walls with posters of cheetahs and was “always dressing in shorts and safari boots”, like some central casting explorer. This obsession endured through university at Lancaster, where she studied environmental science. “I spent two years there and then I came straight back. I couldn’t handle the weather.” Returning home, she began working for the Kenyan Wildlife Service. She was assigned to this part of northern Kenya and hoped to write a thesis on cheetahs. The only problem was that, no matter how hard she looked, she couldn’t find any. So instead she found herself drawn to the local lions, which were only marginally less elusive. She soon became fascinated by how different they were from the lions in other parts of Africa, which were more like the beasts of popular imagination.

“I grew up seeing lions in southern Kenya who operated in big prides, with the males sleeping all day and basically being very lazy,”
she says. But here in northern Kenya, the Ewaso lions were far more solitary and active. “They are unique in their behaviour. And that’s
what really got me to stay. I figured there was so much more to find out about them.” And what she discovered, very quickly, was
that the Ewaso lions were in serious danger. This was one thing they did have in common with other lions. Over the past 20 years, it
is estimated that the African lion population has declined by 43 per cent to about 20,000. Within Kenya, this number is below 2,500.
In her immediate region, there were at best a dozen. The reasons for this are manifold but, she says, it all stems from habitat loss and
food scarcity. “The norm here is now extreme droughts,” says Bhalla. “We don’t get enough rain, the river dries up, there’s no grass in thearea, and the prey that lions depend on doesn’t have enough food.” This creates such pressure on the lions that they increasingly encroach on the lands of the semi-nomadic Samburu people and prey on their livestock. “We’re just running out of space,” she says. A single camel can be worth up to $1,000. “And understandably, when a cow or a camel is killed, the local communities do get very resentful, because their lives depend on that animal. It’s as though their bank account has been wiped out.”

‘The biggest eye-opener about lion conservation? It isn’t about lions. It’s all about people’

So the Ewaso lions found themselves caught between the prospect of starving in the bush or risking death at the hands of angry Samburu tribespeople. Bhalla began to realise that if she wanted to help protect these animals, she needed to understand the people who were killing them. “The biggest eyeopener for me, especially in those first few years when I moved here, was that lion conservation isn’t about lions. It’s nothing about lions. It’s all about people.” Having been living in a remote part of a national park reserved for conservationists, Bhalla realised she had to move to a Samburu village. Not to lecture or chide them, but rather because she genuinely needed the help of people whose own culture was intimately linked with lions and who had grown up around them in a way she had not. “I had no clue,” she says. “I didn’t know what I was doing. I didn’t even know where I was. I didn’t know the area. Me? From Nairobi? Looking for lions? I didn’t have the eye. I would drive around for months and not see a thing,” she says, shaking her head at her own helplessness.

So she began talking to the locals. She learnt that, traditionally, the Samburu people’s relationship with lions had been defined by coexistence rather than conflict. So while it may sometimes have been necessary for a young warrior to kill one, lions also played a key role in Samburu culture. Their roars heralded good fortune. Their presence was required for important rituals and ceremonies. Around 2007, Bhalla met a young man named Jeneria Lekilelei who was intrigued by her presence in his community. Having spent most of his life “hating” lions, he began not only to question his prejudice but to fret about what it would mean for Samburu culture if the Ewaso lions were killed off entirely. After an epiphany that involved him sitting beside a lion “in harmony and without having any
problems”, he started working with Bhalla. Today, Lekilelei laughs when he recalls how, initially, his family and friends couldn’t quite believe he had thrown in his lot with the young woman from Nairobi. “They were like, ‘Have you gone crazy? To follow this little girl
who comes and says, “Let’s promote lion conservation,”’” he says. With Lekilelei and a growing number of other Samburu tribespeople onside, things began to change. Perhaps most importantly, in 2010 Lekilelei created something called the Warrior Watch programme. Samburu culture requires all young men to serve as “warriors” until the age of about 30, living together communally and acting as a kind of militiacum-police force. What Lekilelei proposed was that he and his fellow warriors could patrol their lands looking for lions. And when they spotted some, they would tell local herdsmen to avoid grazing their animals in the area. “So people are more aware of the presence of lions,” he says. “And by doing so, you save the lion and you save the livestock.”

It helped that Lekilelei was – and remains – a loquacious and persuasive presence. “There is no one more skilled at holding a community meeting than Jeneria,” says Bhalla. Nevertheless, he describes how there was still “a lot of resistance” to the idea of conserving lions. One problem was that locals tended to overestimate the number of lions in the area. Another was that the agony of losing herd animals is very real. “I understand how painful it is. Remember when my cow was killed?” he asks Bhalla, who nods soberly. “I was crying.” But by consciously targeting people in his tribe who seemed to have the most influence over others – “the ringleaders” – Lekilelei was able to spread the sense that by helping to keep track of the local lion population, the Samburu warriors were not only protecting their livestock but also the lions and, by extension, their own culture. More and more people became interested in helping to conserve the lions, not just warriors but Samburu women and children too. It also helped that Bhalla remained among the Samburu year after year, becoming more familiar and more accepted. Today, she and her dogs, Kura and Nanyori, are a familiar sight.

“I think 10 or 15 years ago I was known as the crazy lady who runs around after lions,” she says. “But now I’m not crazy any more. A lot of people probably thought I was here for the short term. That maybe I’ll just come, do a PhD and then leave like everybody else does. But it’s been 21 years since I arrived here. This is my home. This is where I live.” Despite intense environmental pressures – it is now the sixth consecutive failed rainy season here – the Ewaso Lions project is succeeding. Retaliatory killings are down markedly and the number of lions in the area has increased from just 11 to more than 50, bucking the continental trend. Bhalla now manages a team of more than 60 people, and it is for this work that she will receive a Gold Award and £100,000 funding from the Whitley Fund for Nature, a UK charity that supports grassroots conservation around the world. She believes the fact that she has stayed among the Samburu people for more than 20 years, and made sure that they were at the heart of her project, is something that traditional “top-down” conservation must learn from. “The big problem is that you get a lot of what are called ‘parachute scientists’ who come in and tell Kenyans how to protect our wildlife, and that has to change. It’s up to us, as Kenyans, to figure out what we need to do,” she says. In the past when encountering such people, she would walk away. Now she confronts them. “I’ll say, what exactly are you doing to build teams? What are you doing to work with communities? What are you doing to ensure communities lead the approaches? And I’ll often just get a blank look.”

The Ewaso Lions model of conservation can – and, in a sense, must – be rolled out globally, she continues. “There are components of it that are transferable, no matter where you are in the world. Community-led wildlife conservation can happen anywhere. And to me, it’s the only solution we have to this biodiversity crisis.” She, Lekilelei and Leringato are preparing to come to London for the Whitley Awards. They’re trying to get tickets to see The Lion King in the West End and Leringato is beginning the process of styling his hair for the occasion, “which can take weeks”, Bhalla teases. He smiles. He describes how, recently, one of the Ewaso lionesses had a problem with her mouth, so the Kenya Wildlife Service had to come and attend to her. During this process, he found himself crouched beside her, stroking her gently and trying to offer some comfort. “I had never believed that there would be a time I would be treating a lion with a problem. It’s a moment I will never forget. And now I am out monitoring her every day, checking that she is OK and eating well,” he says softly. “Now, I know the lions are in my hands.”

 

Meet the optimists: Shivani Bhalla

Born and raised in Kenya, Dr. Shivani Bhalla believes the key to lion conservation is working in partnership with local communities. She founded Ewaso Lions in 2007 to promote co-existence between carnivores and people, and she and her team have created successful community programmes including Warrior Watch, Mama Simba, Lion Kids Camps and Kura’s Pride.

Shivani has a DPhil in Zoology from the University of Oxford, a Master of Science in Wildlife Conservation from Napier University and a Bachelor of Science in Environmental Science from Lancaster University. Previously, she has worked for the Kenya Wildlife Service and Save the Elephants. Shivani moved to Samburu in 2002 and lives in the Ewaso Lions Camp in Westgate Conservancy with her team and two dogs, Kura and Nanyori. She is the recipient of the 2023 Whitley Gold Award from the Whitley Fund for Nature.

What got you into conservation and your current work?

I was born and raised in Kenya, and I would go on a lot of safari trips with my parents. Over time, I realised that wildlife in Kenya were in trouble, and I felt it was my duty and responsibility as a Kenyan to really do something to protect what is ours.

This motivated me to pursue my university studies in conservation. After that, I moved to Samburu – this was over 20 years ago – where I started Ewaso Lions with the goal of understanding the issues that lions face in northern Kenya. The species was in decline across the entire African continent, including in my own country. With only about 2,000 lions left at that time, I felt it was really important to understand the population in northern Kenya and how we can work alongside communities to secure a future for them.

Our mission is to promote coexistence – or rather, continued coexistence – between people and lions, since Samburu communities have coexisted with lions and other wildlife for generations. It’s becoming much harder to sustain this coexistence, due to factors such as lack of wild prey for lions, habitat fragmentation by human settlements, as well as climate change and drought. We have been supporting the communities in whatever way possible to remedy these challenges. Our work includes programmes that are community-led, tracking the movement of lions in order to avoid confrontation with humans and livestock, and recovering lion habitat to help local ecosystems thrive.

Tell us about a challenge that you faced, and how you overcame it.

We face many challenges here. I would even say, sometimes we face back-to-back crises! Whether it’s drought, flooding, disease outbreaks, or locust invasions.. sometimes it feels like it’s never-ending. And one way we’ve overcome it is by not looking at it as a crisis anymore. So, for example, rather than saying to ourselves, ‘Oh, gosh, we’re in another drought. What are we going to do about it?’, we treat it as another thing to manage in our day-to-day.

Generally speaking, I overcome any challenges that I come across by discussing and working to manage them with our extraordinary team that I’m very grateful to be a part of. In this way, the challenges are not faced alone, but assessed collectively. I think that sometimes my way of thinking could be quite limited but, by bringing in other perspectives and thoughts, a better solution can be found and we can overcome the challenges together. In other words, I don’t figure it out alone. It’s a collective discussion.

What was a key moment in your conservation career? Describe it as vividly as possible.

There were actually two key moments in my career that happened around the same time, a year and a half ago. I can’t remember when it was specifically, but one evening I was in my house in our camp, and suddenly the WhatsApp groups for our various teams were all lighting up; messages were coming in from all our different programs. Mama Simba, our programme started by the Samburu women themselves to engage in conservation in northern Kenya, was reporting on all their accomplishments on that specific day. I also received similar reports from another programme, Kura’s Pride, which works to support the health and welfare of Samburu’s pet dogs. Our lion teams were messaging saying they had seen lions in three different areas. Our community team was reporting on how many meetings they had had that day.

I realised that I had gone from starting a project where I was in charge of doing everything and obviously having limited impact, to suddenly working alongside a team of 65 where various programs were operating independently and getting on with things even without me. It was a really great moment to just recognise how it’s no longer just me, but our whole team that has ownership over their work and what they do.

Not long after that, we all gave a very important presentation to our government in a meeting that had taken us two years to arrange. We were given three hours to talk about the work that Ewaso Lions does. And, I couldn’t believe it, but in those three hours, I only spoke for five minutes, maybe even less. Again, this moment really showed that Ewaso Lions has gotten to a stage where I have my own role now, which is mainly fundraising, while the rest of my team basically get on with all their work and are able to stand up in front of the government and present their work so passionately and with such dedication.

What is your vision for the future?

My vision for the future is to see communities lead conservation efforts as part of their way of life, perhaps in a world where there’s no word for ‘conservation’ because it’s just what everyone does on a daily basis. I feel like with the global biodiversity crisis we’re in, this is one of the only solutions we’ve got: having people care and incorporate protection of the natural world in their daily life.

What keeps you optimistic about the future of nature?

For me, having communities lead any conservation effort is really what keeps me optimistic about the future. I also find optimism in my team, our Samburu community who have so much courage to live alongside lions, as well as the lions themselves who have so much courage to continue to live alongside people.

What is the “pearl of wisdom” that you would hand on to a budding conservationist?

In the conservation world, there is unfortunately a perception that conservation is for a sort of “heroic figure”; there’s this one person to do conservation, this “one-face” model. And you look around and the reality is exactly that there’s so many conservation projects with just one “face”. I believe we need to change that. As an up-and-coming conservationist, you should be thinking about building a team, building capacity, and ensuring there’s collective visibility. A conservationist should do everything in their power to move away from that “one-face” model,  which is unsustainable and extremely damaging to conservation, and instead give recognition to everyone working on that issue as opposed to just themselves. That’s my first piece of advice.

Secondly, and this is a slightly harder one: always think about your exit plan. This is a bit hard to do when you’re just starting out, but conservationists sometimes do this in their 80s and 90s. I feel that we should be thinking about succession, transitioning, and inspiring a new generation to take over from you. So as you’re starting out, think about what that exit strategy might be in 10-15 years’ time. I’m not saying start doing it then! But just have it in your mind. And when you’re midway through your career, really start being very intentional about all the things that you need to do to eventually hand over your work. For me, this is very important considering the ever-changing conservation landscape that we’re in. We all need to not be stuck in our way. We need to be open to change, to having new ideas and new perspectives. So, I do feel like considering transition and succession at the early stages is a good idea.

 

[vc_row][vc_column][vc_column_text]by Pride Lion Conservation Alliance on 14 May 2021[/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][vc_column_text]

• Despite growing media and public pressure to ‘sanitize’ the wild, the priority for conservation should always be keeping populations and areas wild above keeping individual animals safe, six leading lion conservationists argue.
• The power and beauty of a wild lion comes in part from immense struggle, as they battle for food and supremacy: many lions are badly injured or killed in fights with their prey and with one another.
• The urge to intervene and treat injured lions, perhaps even to scoop up their cubs to keep them safe at rescue centers, is of course deeply human. But when we do that, their lives are often degraded and endangered, anyhow, as we go against all we hold dear: the essence of wilderness embodied in these animals.
• Public-pressured, sanitized, and media-friendly management of animal populations will ultimately be crippling for real conservation efforts. This article is a commentary, and the views expressed are those of the authors, not necessarily Mongabay.

[/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][vc_column_text]So why do we have such an enduring and powerful attraction to these incredible creatures? They are clearly beautiful, but that does not explain the depth of their appeal: an Oxford study revealed that people found big cats far more appealing than would be expected purely from their physical characteristics.

That is particularly true for lions: despite not having the striking coloration of a tiger, the appealing cuteness of a red panda, or the immense physical presence of a rhino, they are a predominant wild animal in the human psyche, becoming the world’s most chosen ‘national’ animal. All of us writing this have personally felt that pull: we all run conservation organizations where lions are the focal species, where it is the plight of these animals more than any other that attracts attention from across the globe.[/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][vc_single_image image=”7859″ img_size=”full” alignment=”center”][vc_column_text]

Wild African landscapes support a myriad of species. Photo courtesy of Colleen Begg.

[/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][vc_empty_space][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][vc_column_text]The real reason, we believe, for the intense magnetism of big cats is the fact that they are true icons of what it means to be wild. To survive, wild big cats need vast, functioning landscapes, with all the diversity of plants, insects, birds, reptiles and small mammals required to maintain the habitats and prey they depend upon. The scale of the areas that support big, wild lion populations is almost impossible to comprehend, even if you spend hours or days driving through them. It becomes evident only from the air, since you can still fly for hours across immense wild places. For us, it is deeply satisfying that those places still exist. They are fragmented, they are under enormous pressure, but for now we still have some of these spectacular landscapes left, and the presence of wild lions is a reflection of that.[/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][vc_column_text]Contrary to what many assume, wilderness does not have to exclude humans: in many places, the rights, cultures, and lives of local people are exactly what maintains wildlife across these vast areas. Human presence does not negate what it means to be wild: species like lions thrive and continue to be truly wild alongside humans, given enough space, tolerance, security, and value.[/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][vc_column_text]In fact, it is likely that our shared human history with lions has helped make them so uniquely iconic. In Africa, the very evolution of our ancestors was shaped by living alongside this immensely powerful predator. Even today, walking through wild areas of Africa transports us back through time, humbled by the power of nature and reminding us that we humans are a small speck of life within these vast ecosystems.[/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][vc_column_text]To stand and look deep into the amber eyes of a wild lion, even for a few moments, erases millennia of human artifice and arrogance. The fearsome ability to kill with one strike of a paw, the immense strength coiled up in those muscles, and that unflinching gaze that reminds us that humans have long been – and in some places still are – lion prey. It instantly reminds us that when all else is stripped away, we are so much less powerful than they are.[/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][vc_column_text]That power and magnetism comes from being utterly wild. A lion in captivity is still beautiful, but it is a very different animal. The power and beauty of a truly wild lion, as with any wild animal, comes in part from immense struggle. They battle for food and supremacy: lions are badly injured and killed in fights with prey and with one another.[/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][vc_column_text]We have all seen devastating injuries: lions with jaws hanging off or scalps peeled away after battles with buffalo, appalling wounds after bloody, internecine fights, and the particular horror of watching young cubs savaged to death by incoming males after a pride takeover. It is of course deeply human to want to intervene: to treat the injured lions, perhaps even to scoop up the cubs to try to keep them safe. But if we did that, we would be going against all we hold dear: the essence of wilderness embodied in these incredible animals.[/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][vc_column_text]Life in the wild is a brutal, bloody circle: wildebeest must run within minutes of being born to try to escape predators waiting to transform their births into deaths; weak or injured prey animals will often be eaten by carnivores, sometimes while they are still alive. These events are horrible to watch, and seem terribly cruel, but they are part of the lifeblood of nature. It is through these events that you see the true resilience and power of wild animals. We have also seen many animals survive horrific injuries thanks to their innate strength, sometimes aided by pride or pack mates, and those unbelievably resilient animals have gone on to breed, continuing the natural selection that has led to everything we find inspiring about them.[/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][vc_single_image image=”7858″ img_size=”full” alignment=”center”][vc_column_text]

Lionesses must be fierce to protect their cubs. Photo courtesy of Lorenzo Rossi.

[/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][vc_empty_space][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][vc_column_text]Pressure to sanitize the wild

However, more and more over the course of our careers, we have seen a push to intervene and manage wild animals and wild places. This is likely another result of the global fascination with big cats, as people across the world – often from the comfort of their homes thousands of miles away – are becoming increasingly vocal in how these species and areas should be managed, often without any real understanding of the complexities involved.[/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][vc_column_text]We see the impacts of this daily. If wild animals are injured or suffering through natural causes – even in supposedly wild areas such as national parks – there is an increasing tendency to rush in and treat them, presumably to avoid upsetting tourists or risk condemnation on social media.

Young or injured animals may be ’rescued’ by people, in acts of kindness that can condemn them to an (often-miserable) life in captivity. This impacts not only those individual animals, but has consequences for the wider ecosystem and natural selection.

Alarmingly, ‘rescue’ centers are increasingly seen by the public as playing an important role in conservation: this is amplified by the media, where beautiful images of humans caring for wild animals suggest this is helping safeguard species. However, these places require significant donor funds, and can amplify conflict as local people see the welfare of wild animals prioritized above their needs.

There is also a risk that if ‘orphanages’ and the like become viable businesses, wild animals could be taken in without sufficient reason, actively damaging wild lives. And while ‘sanctuaries’ can have a role in animal welfare, it is rare (and often unwise) for species like lions to ever be released from these captive situations into the wild, with particular risks of conflict from habituated animals. Ultimately, these places may be little more than a distraction: if we are to save wild large cat species, we need to focus on conserving wild animals and wild places together with the people who share their landscapes.[/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][vc_single_image image=”7860″ img_size=”full” alignment=”center”][vc_column_text]

Male lion and cub. Photo courtesy of Paul Tickner.

[/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][vc_empty_space][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][vc_column_text]Prioritizing visible costs risks major hidden harms

This growing pressure to ‘manage’ wildlife and avoid the public awareness of suffering and death can have adverse impacts. In terrible events such as lion attacks on humans, or other clearly ‘problem’ animals, media and public pressure can be so intense that authorities feel unable to shoot the animal concerned, even if that is legitimately the best course of action.

Instead there is increasing movement towards capturing the animal and placing it in captivity, with major welfare implications for a wild animal and major cost burdens for already overburdened governments. There is also a growing move towards translocation: a media-friendly approach, but one beset by many problems. It is expensive, stressful for the animal concerned, hard to find suitable release sites without competing animals or substantial threats, and when it involves conflict-causing animals, it can create problems in local communities around release sites.

Translocation requires monitoring of the released animals and a clear plan for what should happen if it fails, yet this is very rarely done. Animals are often merely moved elsewhere, risking a horrible death, but – apparently importantly – one which happens beyond unforgiving public and media scrutiny.

It is these well-intentioned actions – which reduce visible, public costs, but risk significant, hidden harms – that concern us the most. This is not just about translocation: any interventions or policy changes aimed at ‘saving’ wildlife should be very carefully examined to avoid unintended consequences, such as habitat loss or ‘hidden’ wildlife deaths such as through conflict or snaring. Alarmingly, those deaths – which we have personally witnessed, and know have appalling consequences both for wild animals’ welfare and conservation – seem to be viewed as less important, or as failures. They do not lend themselves to easy campaigns or the photogenic ‘successes’ of rescues.[/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][vc_single_image image=”7861″ img_size=”full” alignment=”center”][vc_column_text]

A lioness in Tanzania shows her battle scars. Photo by Rhett A. Butler for Mongabay.

[/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][vc_empty_space][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][vc_column_text]Keeping animals wild should be prioritized over keeping them safe

We are not advocating an entirely hands-off approach to conservation. Wild areas and species will often need to be used and managed to generate revenue, and in some cases intervention is unavoidable and warranted – for instance, treating animals injured through human impacts such as snares or poison. However, the priority should always be on keeping populations and areas wild above keeping individual animals safe. Furthermore, part of our role as conservation scientists and organizations should be engaging with and informing public opinion, rather than being fearful of public pressure.

Ultimately, we find this drive for public-pressured, sanitized, media-friendly, managed areas and animals crippling for real conservation efforts and impact, as well as ethically questionable. It creates a myth of conservation far removed from the gritty reality of balancing human wellbeing and biodiversity conservation.  It is based on external pressure, rather than the rights, views, and needs of local people, or even the needs of wild animals and their conservation.

We fear this leads not to the conservation of wilderness, but instead to the preservation of small, fenced areas where nominally wild animals are endlessly managed. We fear these areas and animals being increasingly protected by armed guards against the very local communities who should be engaged and empowered through their conservation, creating a divide and resentment that will be increasingly difficult to bridge.[/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][vc_column_text]It is hard to know how even we, as field-based conservationists – let alone the local communities and others we work with – can have any real impact against this immensely powerful juggernaut of public and media pressure.

It is likely that we cannot: but with whatever voice we have, we call for more considered and informed discussions of these issues, an embracing of complexity and nuance,  rather than a fearful bowing to uninformed social pressure empowered by celebrities on social media. Only then, together, can we protect wilderness and the essence of wild animals, in all their untamed reality, ensuring they can continue inspiring humanity for millennia to come.

Founded in 2015 by six leading field-based conservationists – Amy Dickman, Colleen Begg, Shivani Bhalla, Alayne Cotterill, Stephanie Dolrenry, and Leela Hazzah – the Pride Lion Conservation Alliance combines science with community conservation to address the biggest threats to lions and improve the lives of local people. The founding members lead carnivore conservation projects in four key lion range countries, researching and protecting more than 20% of Africa’s existing wild lion population. Together, Pride’s founders have 100+ years of experience.

 

SOURCE: https://news.mongabay.com/2021/05/keeping-animals-wild-vs-safe-should-be-prioritized-lion-biologists-argue-commentary/[/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row]