Most people immediately think of lions when you mention the word safari; it’s difficult to picture an untamed African environment without them. However, these jungle kings are struggling to survive and may go extinct in the next 30 to 40 years.

Local conservationists are putting forth a lot of effort to safeguard these delicate carnivores from poaching, habitat loss, trophy hunting, and conflicts between people and wildlife. In Southern Tanzania, I visited the Ruaha Carnivore Project to hear about their exciting and difficult work.

The Land of the Lions, Ruaha

Ruaha National Park is a vast wilderness area covering more than 20,000 km². With its wide sand rivers, expansive plains, rocky hills and valleys, and peculiar baobab woods, it is breathtakingly gorgeous. Additionally, more than 10% of all lions in Africa call it home.

There is a lioness hiding from the intense heat, panting constantly, and we are stopped next to a prickly acacia. With a perplexed expression, our guide Dulla murmurs, “I don’t recognize this one.” “I believe she is new to this area and is heavily pregnant.” Guides and rangers are familiar with the most of the lion prides in this area. The Ruaha Carnivore Project (RCP), a member of Oxford University’s WildCRU team, has been documenting them for almost a decade.

On his tablet, Dulla begins inputting details regarding our lion sighting, such as:

the date and time; our whereabouts using GPS; the lion’s gender; whether she is with a pride or not; and whether she exhibits any peculiar traits.
Her dark, swollen nipples, which are a result of her pregnancy, her protruding abdomen, and an odd nick on the side of her ear are all visible. Similar to how fingerprints are used to identify people, each lion’s unique whisker pattern can be used to identify them. We attempt to take pictures, but her face is obscured by the thorns and bushes where she is lying.

Cooperation Between Tourism and Conservation

Tourists on a game drive may find this to be an odd task. However, the Ruaha Carnivore Project receives research assistance from our lodge, the stunning Jabali Ridge, which is operated by safari operators Asilia Africa. To gather information and photos of the lions, RCP has trained about 30 guides from ten lodges in the park.

The more eyes on the ground, the better, because there is a huge region to cover. I go to RCP’s base camp in Kitisi Village, which is outside the national park, the following day. Ana Grau, the Assistant Field Operations Manager at RCP, presents me spreadsheets containing all of the data that their staff and guides have supplied.

Red spots on “hot maps” indicate the areas of the most frequent sightings, while a map displays the 28 prides’ known territory. For cheetahs, leopards, wild dogs, and hyenas, comparable charts and maps are applicable. There are no fences here, so the lions don’t only remain in the park. They raid nearby village land, which is also inhabited by other prides. Conflict between lions and the locals, whose livestock is their livelihood, arises at this point.

Barabaig Tribe and Village Life

A dusty, terracotta-colored road winds through the expansive community of Kitisi, which is made mostly of mud-brick homes. The road becomes indistinguishable as we travel, passing homesteads strewn everywhere, frequently miles away from their closest neighbors. There are about 24,000 people living in the 12 villages that RCP supports, including this one.

Many are Barabaig, a nomadic, traditionally secretive tribe that is viewed as alien. They would travel the nation in search of new pasture for their livestock because they were pastoralists. However, as Africa’s population grows, available area is become increasingly limited, and the Barabaig have fewer destinations. They lack running water and power, and they receive little medical attention, schooling, or veterinary care for their cattle.

According to RCP’s Lion Defender Manager BenJee Cascio, the Barabaig have a cultural aversion to lions because they believe that they are the adversary that preys on their livestock, which are their sole source of income. Men have historically slaughtered lions as a rite of passage to become warriors. Following a kill, the village comes together for a raucous celebration where the new warrior receives presents. Hunts and poisonings have also been frequent, either to protect their livestock or in punishment for lions killing calves.

The Lion Defenders of Ruaha

However, the long-standing, tribal mindset of the Barabaig is gradually shifting as a result of WildCRU’s Ruaha Carnivore Project: previous lion murderers are now defending lions. RCP presently employs 13 skilled lion guards thanks to support from the Maasai Lion Guardians of Kenya. They have gained recognized as role models for preserving livestock rather than shooting big predators.

They keep tabs on lions, alert locals to the presence of predators, and frighten them away. They even bring back calves that have wandered off in the woods. Additionally, they aid in strengthening the more conventional bomas (cattle enclosures) consisting of branches and thorns or in the construction of new, lion-proof wire bomas.

Livestock killings have decreased by an astounding 60% as a result of these measures. It makes sense why these men have gained local hero status. Hunts continue, especially as retaliation for cattle lost to lions, but changing long-standing customs takes time. Dissuading or redirecting these exhilarating hunts is a part of the lion defender’s job description. Using all of their persuasive abilities, it is arguably the most challenging aspect of the work. However, they are having an effect even here.

“The Barabaig were killing about 60 lions a year before we started,” BenJee says. “Just four people were killed this year.”

They also celebrate this. In a deft twist, the RCP now hosts a celebration for the Barabaig after a month without a hunt, in place of the dances that would have followed a kill.

Changing Lives, Preserving Lions: The Ruaha Carnivore Project

Communities like the Barabaig and Maasai must perceive a clear connection between wildlife protection and a real benefit that will alleviate their poverty if they are to embrace conservation. The Ruaha Carnivore Project has done just that with their community camera trap campaign, which is another astute move.

The originator of the Ruaha Carnivore Project from WildCRU, Amy Dickman, describes how they installed camera traps to get additional information about the wildlife that comes to the settlements. Since many of them were damaged or stolen, the Barabaig initially mistrusted them.

In order to reward the animals in the photos, the team created a creative competition with an increasing point system: a lion is worth 15,000 points, while a harmless dikdik is worth 1000. The photos are compiled by village committees, and the winner is the one with the most points during a three-month period. In addition to one of their favorite celebrations, they will receive a gift of $200,000 worth of educational, medical, or veterinary supplies of their choosing.

A key component of Ruaha Carnivore Project’s community service is education. Since it’s hard to learn while you’re hungry, primary schools that serve meals have seen a sharp rise in attendance and academic achievement. They have set up twinning programs for a number of schools that give the kids educational resources.

They have screened wildlife DVDs for more than 30,000 people and provide funding for kids through secondary school and college. Additionally, they bring locals into the park so they may observe the wildlife from a new angle. Amy tells me, “They had no idea lions could be kind.”

I ask one of the lion defenders, Daudi, what he likes best about his work before I depart. He responds, “I love what it brings to our community.” “All the positive things, like roads and schools, and the advantages of putting an end to lion hunts.”

It is obvious that the Ruaha Carnivore Project’s efforts to aid local tribes and conserve lions and livestock are mutually beneficial.