So it’s the morning, and it’s a nice morning too. On this nice morning I’m going on a game drive; I’ll be driving along a game route in Ehi-rovipuka, counting all the animals I see and trying to classify them by age and sex. I really like these game drives. The observers (always two students and a Namibian game guard) sit on a bench fastened to the bed of a Toyota Hilux pickup. Sitting on this game bench, squinting into the wind, I feel like I’m driving a motorcycle – or better yet, like I’m standing at the helm of some great ship in the Age of Exploration. That’s what I like to imagine, but honestly the experience is more similar to rodeo bull riding.
The sun has already risen today, but at least for now I’m sheltered from its inhospitable heat by a few lingering clouds left over from the rain last night. I watch the sun slowly appear from behind the crest of a mountain only to slip away behind a low-hanging cloud. On the opposite end of the sky the full moon is still visible, and it will be for the next hour or two. It’s a relief to see it; I was worried that because of the clouds last night I’d miss it and have to wait another month. But there it is this morning, just as remarkable as I remember it.
Ehi-rovipuka is one of dozens of conservancies in Namibia, and the 4th that we’ve visited so far. Prior to independence in 1990, the rights of wildlife management belonged only to the State. Wildlife was a federally-controlled natural resource. But after independence, rights to the wildlife were given back to the community members who live alongside it, as long as they agreed to manage it responsibly and sustainably. Conservancies were born from this agreement. The driving principle behind conservancies is that a living animal is worth more than a dead one. The revenue that a lion brings to a conservancy either through tourism or trophy hunting is put towards the development of the communities within the conservancy. People living alongside these wild animals now have an incentive to protect them.
And yet, there are problems in this strategy of wildlife protection. Cattle are hugely significant to Namibians. They are a pastoral people by culture and heritage, and almost everyone outside the cities raises cattle. I’ve even been told that if one man doesn’t raise cattle, he is seen as a less of a man by the rest of the community. Like there must be something wrong with him. Raising cattle is just the way of life out here, but it’s hard to get behind the protection of lions and hyenas and leopards when these are the animals killing your livestock. Incidents of this brand of human-wildlife conflict are not uncommon. Neither, unfortunately, is poaching – there’s a large market for goods made from Africa’s charismatic mammals, especially in Asia.
This point brings me back to my game drive. Breaking the idyllic splendor of the rising sun and fading moon on opposite ends of a verdant valley, we come across a lonely cow with its foot caught in a trap. Upon further investigation we find that nearby, another cow had been taken down by some large wild predator, likely a hyena. Knowing that the scavenging hyenas will likely return to this kill, poachers set up the trap in hopes of snaring one of them. While I’m pleased that the poacher’s plan was foiled, seeing the accidental victim with its bloody ankle stuck between two rusty iron clamps was unsettling. It looked at me with a blank expression. I knew the thing must be in agony, but the only evidence of its distress came when Bekah cautiously approached it, it lowered its horns, and made a half-hearted attempt to fend her off despite the terrible burden it dragged behind it.
A sad cow
It’s a shame that a market for goods made from hyena exists, but it’s just evidence of what a nuanced issue conservation in Africa is. For me, an outsider, I’d like to grab whatever poacher was responsible by the shoulders, shake him, and shout “Don’t you understand that you’re stealing from your community by killing a hyena? Tourists will pay to come here if there’s a viable hyena population!” But I know it’s more complicated than that. Despite the promises of community development produced through wildlife conservation, poverty still runs rampant in this part of the country. It’s understandable how that kind of poverty could make someone frustrated enough to break the rules and kill a hyena. There’s still work to be done here, that’s for sure.
Mike,
Very well written. I felt the pain of that lonely cow and have a much better understanding of the complexities of the work that you are helping to do. Good job. And safe travel to you all. Sue McClain