The drive to the Naimina Enkiyio Forest, also known as the Loita Forest, was a long journey through changing landscapes. Leaving the flat, open grass plains of the Greater Masai Mara, we passed spindly whistling thorn bushes, succulent Candelabras, and gnarled, windswept Boscias. Maasai “wazee” (elders) walked along the dusty tracks, clutching their long, smooth encharakak sticks, the distinctive loops of their cut and elongated earlobes evident even from afar.
The air cooled as we began our ascent into the forest along shaded tracks. Old man’s beard draped the canopy, and a fragrant scent of the forest hung in the air. Splashes of purple and yellow flowers and ripe red berries adorned the bushes.
An olive baboon surveys the forest from the branch of a cedar tree
This 532 km² virgin, old-growth Afromontane forest forms the easternmost edge of the Greater Mara Ecosystem. It is a place of staggering beauty and profound ecological importance, home to over 600 elephants and acts as a critical ‘water tower’ that drains into the Great Rift Valley.
Forest streams eventually drain into the rivers of the Great Rift Valley
The air is crisp and clean here. Hartlaub’s Turacos soar between the canopy, flashing their vivid, scarlet wings; iridescent sunbirds flit between nectar-filled blooms, while the deep, drumming call of the black-and-white Guereza colobus monkeys resonates through the trees.
An Eastern Double-collared Sunbird
A black-and-white (Guereza) colobus monkey
Walking beneath the giant Podocarpus and towering ancient cedars that stand sentinel to centuries gone by, it feels like a glimpse into the past. The forest feels like a spiritual place, with a soul of its own.
The forest interior
To truly appreciate this landscape, we experienced it with the “Forest Fathers”. On a morning walk, we were fortunate to be accompanied by four such elders: Mzee Parmuat, a revered Medicine man; Mzee Nemorijo, a Laibon (spiritual leader); as well as Mzee Kuluo and Mzee Ol Tukai, both of whom wore weathered leather cowboy hats, cured from decades spent under the African sun.
Mzee Nemorijo
Cloaked in bright red and pink shukas, clutching their prized spears and orinkas (wooden clubs), with knives tucked into leather scabbards, they guided us through the ancient woods.
Mzee Kuluo
As we walked slowly, Mzee Parmuat paused often to share his indigenous knowledge, pointing out wild basil seeds to eat raw, and Olosida leaves, a plant from the Acanthaceae family, the ash of which is used to relieve arthritis.
Mzee Parmuat
At one point, we walked along a lichen-blotched granite ridge and came upon a Bao board (a traditional mancala game) carved directly into the rock face. Two of the men sat down to play against one another, as their grandfathers had done many times more than a century ago.
Mzee Parmuat and Stanley Tapoti play a game of bao
For time immemorial, the Maasai have been one with this seemingly endless forest. Before conservation organisations ever arrived, their culture itself was deemed a traditional mode of conservation.
Moses Koikai
A Council of Elders determined how the people lived with the forest, carefully deciding on grazing, watering and settlement areas. These men have protected this area their entire lives, and to them, it is a deeply spiritual place.
Mzee Nemorijo, Mzee Parmuat and Mzee Ol Tukai- Guardians of the Loita Forest
However, this ancestral harmony is unravelling. Recently, 42% of the forest was subdivided from communal ownership into private plots, typically 9.5 or 11.5 acres in size. From one day to the next, customary governance structures were weakened.
A map illustrating the subdivided forest- courtesy of Mara Elephant Project
This shift in land tenure has presented some landowners with a difficult choice. In a modernising society, families need cash to pay school fees and healthcare bills. With plots too small to earn a decent living from traditional livestock rearing, the temptation to clear the land is immense.
Cleared land parcels now dot the landscape
Clearance of forested land for agriculture and charcoal production
The destruction is already evident. Countless cedars have been felled and turned into endless rows of jagged fence posts that line the roads, their shard-like, stunted forms reaching skywards. The timber isn’t being felled solely for local use, either; external buyers are moving in to exploit this new resource, selling the posts outside the area.
Cedar fences have been erected across the region in the past couple of years
Once the larger, high-value trees are stripped for fence or homestead construction, the remaining wood is often turned into charcoal. Within the fenced plots, red earth that has lain undisturbed for millennia is now churned up in drying clumps, cleared in anticipation of planting fast-growing crops at the start of the coming rains.
Plots are cultivated for agriculture, a major land use change from traditional pastoralism
To combat this habitat destruction and promote human-wildlife coexistence, our conservation partner, the Mara Elephant Project (MEP), has taken on a mammoth task: establishing how landowners can benefit from their land without destroying it.
Mara Elephant Project rangers patrol and protect the forested land
To enforce protection, MEP has deployed three dedicated ranger teams into the Loita Forest. These local rangers conduct daily patrols, utilise drones for aerial surveillance across the valleys, map fences using spatial technology, and are authorised to arrest culprits of illegal logging and charcoal production.
MEP rangers combine boots on the ground patrols with cutting-edge technology
It was on one of these patrols that we witnessed the frontline of this conservation battle. While out with the rangers, we passed through a plot that had recently been cleared, the remains of its once-vibrant, living trees now smouldering and charred.
Many parcels have already been cleared to make way for agriculture
Later, we came across a giant red cedar sawn clean in half, lying on the forest floor. The rangers explained this was a site where they had previously confiscated power tools and made arrests.
An illegally felled cedar tree
We leave the tree behind us; its presence is a stark reminder of the ever-increasing threat of a forest-wide massacre, only to emerge into yet another cleared plot that the rangers had located with the drone. Here, not one, but all of the trees had been felled. In their place, a low-lying bean plant covered the ground, its long, papery pods starting to dry and split under the incessant sun, exposing the mottled, blood-red seeds inside.
Cash crops such as beans and maize are often planted to earn a living from the privately owned parcels
Without sustainable land-use planning, these vital ecosystems face increasing pressure from fragmentation. When local communities have limited economic alternatives, land subdivision often becomes a necessary tool for survival, as seen in areas like the Nyekweri Forests. However, this process can unintentionally impact resident wildlife and the highland streams that provide water for everyone.
A community baraza (meeting) hosted by MEP
MEPs goal is to find proactive solutions that support local livelihoods while ensuring the Loita Forest remains a functional, intact resource for future generations. MEP introduced an innovative ecosystem services payment plan; the Linda Msitu (Protect the Forest) agreement. Through it, landowners can voluntarily sign Memorandums of Understanding (MoUs) and receive a sum to keep their forested land intact. This allows landowners to earn an income without destroying their forest home. At present, 16,000 acres are signed into MoUs, representing 20% of the subdivided land.
Maasai women are also landowners under the new land subdivision plans
Behind the scenes, MEP and their partners are working hard to set up governance structures. Simultaneously a Carbon Project scheme is being considered by the community. This future carbon offsetting program would provide even greater, long-term financial incentives for landowners to protect their parcels.
Join us in making a difference.
We remain committed to making a positive impact on communities, educating future generations, and conserving Kenya’s diverse wildlife. Your stay with us directly contributes to these efforts.
If you would like to learn more about any of our Impact efforts, you can reach out to us via email at [email protected]. If you’d like to support our work, you can do so via our secure online payment platform:
DONATE NOW
Words by Alisa Karstad, Impact Manager for Governors’ Camp Collection. Imagery by Felix Rome.