On the way out of Daphne Sheldrick’s Orphanage, we turn a corner and come face-to-face with a large black rhino wandering loose. He snorts and comes to challenge us. It’s very intimidating.
Then his keeper arrives and starts tickling him and soothing him and he rolls to the ground in response. I am able to tickle him behind the ears. Another adopted orphan. A two-ton baby named Solio.
We leave Kenya stunned by the natural beauty, charmed by the welcome of the people, impressed by the elephants and their social interactions, the feeling that maybe we have more in common than I had thought, and shocked by the ferocity and brutality of the war being waged for their ivory.
From my conversations, it is clear that Kenya needs to pass legislation, which has languished in parliament for years, to increase the penalties for poaching. Currently, you can get a more severe punishment for stealing a few goats than for killing an elephant.
But they also need help from the international community, not just to support conservation work and enforcement efforts, but also to end the demand. This is a war that needs to be defunded and I hope we can raise public awareness to achieve this. As the WildAid slogan goes, “when the buying stops, the killing can, too.”
I have been heartened by the support that conservation work has received from both the people and government of China and I know we can do even more to help with increased enforcement and collaboration.
Back in Ol Pejeta, I visit some of the local community projects funded by the wildlife tourism. A school that now has a library and bank of computers some of the kids use to study (and play video games, I’m told).
The school teachers thanked me for coming and for all the good things China is doing in Kenya, like building a new road, but also appealed for our help in stopping the ivory poaching.
It’s clear that through the jobs provided by tourism, as well as the benefits to the local communities, wildlife is a very valuable resource for Kenya and many other African countries. Poaching robs communities of these benefits. When you buy ivory anywhere in the world, you are contributing to this theft.
Next stop, South Africa.
Back in Nairobi, we visit the headquarters of the Kenya Wildlife Service where I meet the Director, Julius Kipng’etich. He shows me a monument to rangers that have fallen in the line of duty. It’s a sobering moment as a reminder that this really is a war with casualties on both sides. There are no monuments to the poachers of course, but many have been killed in the process of stealing Kenya’s ivory.
We are taken to the “ivory room” in an underground vault where confiscated wildlife products are stored. It’s a veritable Aladdin’s cave of wildlife remains.
On the one side, a huge pile of skins, and on the other side, a stack of thousands of ivory tusks from miniature to enormous, with some covered in dirt as they had been buried to escape detection. Each one is marked with a weight and location. A sad testimony to the trade. If this was what was found, how much more was shipped out undetected?
They tell me that 3 tonnes of ivory have recently been stolen from Zambia’s stockpile and certainly this is like having gold bullion in a vault — very tempting for theft or corrupt activities. I’m told they will probably burn the confiscated ivory at some point.
After the graveyard of the ivory room, we meet some of the survivors at Daphne Sheldrick’s Elephant Orphanage, on the edge of Nairobi National Park.
More to come on that…
We then visit the Save the Elephants field station. A crushed pick-up sits outside as a monument to what can happen if you get on the wrong side of an elephant. Every panel was crushed as it was rolled over during a clash between two bulls.
Living next to elephants isn’t always easy — in some areas, crop raiding is a real problem. But here, where people rely on goats and camels rather than crops, there seems to be a peaceful co-existence.
En route, we see a mother lioness and two cubs sitting probably eight feet from our open vehicle. Peter Knights tells me as long as you remain in the vehicle, the lions will show no interest in you — step out and they’ll either run away or run after you. I’m a nice “medium rare” from the equatorial African sun, but I’d rather not be on the menu today!
As we watch, I notice movement behind me and see an elephant sniffing the air and then trumpeting and spreading its ears to make it seem much larger. We move out of the way and then the elephant shows who’s boss and clears the lions out shaking its head at them. They scamper off, occasionally turning back to consider trying their luck, but discretion is the better part of valor.
Sir Iain Douglas Hamilton tells me they know all of the elephant families and track their movements using radio collars that would break our backs, but are lightweight for the elephants. Using Google Earth, they are able to track an individual animal’s movements and identify corridors between parks, which can then be protected. At another site in the Maasai Mara, they have a male elephant named after me. I tell Iain I was a Rocket, not a Bull, but I am looking forward to being able to track my elephant namesake. I hope he stays safe.
Finally, we head out to record a Public Service Announcement with the elephants. They obligingly march right past me in the vehicle as if they know we need their help to get the message out to please not buy their ivory.