Next to the world-famous Maasai Mara national reserve, an indigenous forest called Nyekweri serves as a sanctuary for elephants, rare birds such as the bright green Schalow’s turaco, a small nocturnal mammal called the tree hyrax and the endangered giant pangolin.
Despite its importance as a conservation hotspot and ecotourism destination, Nyekweri is disappearing. Originally, it spanned 500km² but more than 50% of this forest has been cleared within two decades by local communities.
If you stroll through the forest today, wisps of smoke linger in the air as charcoal pits smoulder across the landscape. While charcoal burning is illegal in Kenya, enforcement on private land remains a challenge. As I researched the dynamics of this deforestation, landowners told me they earn approximately 200 Kenyan shillings (£1.22) per sac of charcoal produced.
During the recent subdivision of the Maasai group ranches in the Trans Mara district, families were allocated parcels within the forest ranging between 12 to 36 acres in size. This gives them the right to do what they wish with the land they now own. Beforehand, the forest was communally owned and managed. Now, many new landowners are clearing the forest to make space for settlements, livestock and farmland.
“There used to be trees as big as this,” one local Maasai landowner remarked as he stretched his arms to illustrate the width of former trees. The largest and oldest trees have already been stripped away, as they yield the most charcoal, leaving behind only darkened stumps as haunting reminders of what once thrived here.
But the loss of tree cover is not Nyekweri’s only problem. Human-wildlife conflict has increased as people take over land in the elephants’ habitat. “Even if the forest is gone, the elephants are still here,” says a local landowner. There have been four reported deaths in Nyekweri due to conflict with elephants between November 2023 and May 2024.
“Nyekweri was not officially recognised by our government. That’s why it was easily subdivided by our leaders,” says one manager of a nearby conservancy – an area designated for conservation efforts, often involving partnerships between local communities and conservation organisations. “The land subdivision committee shortsightedly parcelled out the forest. They saw it as a place to be allocated and chopped. Instead, they could have created a trust for the forest and registered it as community land. A title deed would have been produced and it would have been legally protected.”
Many blame bad leadership for the disappearance of Nyewkeri Forest. A representative from the Maasai Mara Wildlife Conservation Association told me that the former governor of Narok County was anti-conservancy: “He [the governor] wanted to buy land. Once land is registered in a conservancy, you cannot buy or sell it.”
Over the course of 12 months of ethnographic research, I met many Maasai landowners who sold their parcels in prime locations to brokers and were then given new parcels inside Nyekweri. Many of the brokers represented the former governor - they resold those land parcels at inflated prices to Kenyan elites and tourism investors.
From a climate resilience perspective, Nyekweri is crucial to the health of the Mara ecosystem. The forest soaks up rainwater and slowly releases it into the Mara River during the dry season. Conserving this area leads to improved flood management and healthier soils, while also providing wood fuel and medicinal plants for local communities.
Though vital for the welfare of the Mara’s popular wildlife populations, Nyekweri has received little domestic and international attention or credit. Until recently.
In 2021, two new conservancies were established. Funded by not-for-profit Basecamp Foundation Kenya and nature charity World Wildlife Fund and operated by local Maasai community members, these protected areas are not yet fully operational.
One conservancy in Kimintet has started paying land leases at a monthly rate of 140 Kenyan shillings (approx. £0.85) per acre. Two dozen landowners have signed the 15-year agreement – in exchange for monthly payments, they’ll only use 10% of their land for activities such as fencing, logging and cultivation. This should prevent further tree cutting and promote reforestation.
The conservancy in Oloirien is recruiting landowners but lease payments haven’t yet begun due to lack of funds and capacity. In both conservancies, many landowners are waiting to receive their title deeds from county government, and they cannot sign up without that. Once they obtain their official documents, landowners need convincing to join the conservancy for various reasons. Amending conservancy policy to accept alternative forms of land ownership proof would encourage more participation.
Decades of land injustices and government corruption, both at the national and county levels, have made Maasai landowners sceptical of leasing their most valuable asset to a new organisation. “Because of bad politics, the community is frustrated with government. They think that the [county] government wants to take the forest from them,” one conservation representative told me.
Communities in the Trans Mara district told me they got little benefit from the nearby wildlife reserve over recent decades. “In 1948, the reserve was set aside for wildlife and was supposed to benefit surrounding communities. But over time, through patronage, this money was going to a small group of people. This created resentment,” said a nearby conservancy manager.
Without more substantial funding, these new conservancies cannot offer competitive land lease rates. Payments offered in Nyekweri are substantially lower than those elsewhere in the Mara, so conservation isn’t as financially attractive as other land uses such as logging or farming. “There is more money in agriculture than in conservation, so why should I join?” expressed one landowner.
Maasai pastoralists are having to start farming in fixed locations because, as their communal land is privatised, they have limited space to graze their livestock. For the Maasai, Nyekweri forest has a high ecological and socio-cultural value. Losing it leads to greater risk of soil erosion, flooding during the rain season and increased severity of droughts during dry season, but also the loss of local Maasai heritage.
There’s so much potential for Maasai-led conservancies to promote sustainable forest-dwelling practices and enable reforestation. But until conservancies can make themselves more attractive to landowners, the responsibility for conserving the forest falls on private landowners.
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Gabriella Santini received funding from the Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council of Canada, the Royal Anthropological Institute, and the Parkes Foundation.
