A scattering of sightings in 2018 sent ripples of cautious hope among conservationists – Kenya’s giant ground pangolins, once presumed extinct, were clinging to existence. But with their numbers estimated at a mere 30-80 individuals, the fight for their survival is far from over.
These elusive creatures, covered in armor-like scales, are the world’s most trafficked mammals. Their meat is a delicacy in Asian markets, while their scales, despite lacking any scientific backing, are falsely believed to cure ailments from hangovers to cancer. This relentless demand has driven populations to the brink.
Traffic, a wildlife trade monitoring group, estimates that a staggering 23.5 tonnes of pangolins and their body parts were trafficked in just 2021 alone. Over the past decade, an estimated 1 million pangolins have been poached from the wild.
In Kenya, the picture is no less grim. Habitat loss from deforestation and conversion to farmland, coupled with the silent threat of electric fences meant to deter crop-raiding animals, are pushing these gentle giants towards oblivion.
The Pangolin Project, a beacon of hope in the face of adversity, is working tirelessly alongside local communities. One of their key battlegrounds is the Nyakweri forest, where charcoal kilns and felled trees bear silent testimony to the vanishing ecosystem.
Beryl Makori, the project manager, highlights the multifaceted threats, “Land demarcation and deforestation are fragmenting the forest, and poaching is a constant worry. We’ve even found pangolins electrocuted by fences.”
The solution lies in collaboration. The project is forging partnerships with landowners, convincing them to lease their land for conservation under the Nyekweri Kimintet Forest Conservation Trust. Some 23 landowners, representing over 60 households, have already joined the fight, protecting nearly 2,020 hectares.
Leading the charge is Peter Ole Tompoy, a 70-year-old Maasai elder and guardian of the Nyakweri forest. He dreams of a future where more landowners see the value of sharing their land with pangolins, “We Maasai used to roam freely, but now the land is divided. We need to find a way for people and pangolins to thrive together.”
But for some, the lure of immediate income from farming outweighs the long-term benefits of conservation. Musuak Ole Kakui, a maize farmer, explains, “An acre of land can bring me 100,000 shillings. Conservation doesn’t guarantee that kind of money for my family.”
Araluen “Azza” Schunmann, director of the Pangolin Crisis Fund, emphasizes the critical role of community involvement, “Local leadership is key. If these pangolins are protected within their own land, the community will take ownership and ensure their survival.”
The Pangolin Project’s “pangolin guardians,” a dedicated team of young men, are bridging the gap.
They raise awareness, educate households about the plight of these shy creatures, and even help modify electric fences to make them safer for pangolins. With every pangolin protected, a vital piece of the ecosystem is preserved.
The fight to save these magnificent animals is a race against time, but with the combined efforts of conservationists, communities, and individuals, Kenya’s shy survivors might just have a fighting chance.
