The practice, management and perception of wildlife conservation require long-term changes in order to succeed in the conservation of wildlife and its habitats. Migration corridors have been cut off by fences and human settlement, resulting in increased conflicts in those settled areas. I would like to see people and wildlife co-existing outside protected areas. I would not like to see a situation where wildlife will only live in fenced-in areas — or outdoor zoos.
About three years ago, a herd of elephants migrating from the Aberdares National Park across the Nyeri valley to Mount Kenya National Park entered my farm and caused some damage to my fence. They were navigating a traditional corridor. Led by a matriarch, they decided to drink water from my trough. The bull flung some water over himself, then took up more in his trunk and spouted a huge spray in the direction of his herd. He was happy. Then he moved out into my man-made forest. The matriarch turned around, and in a single file, the herd walked out towards Mount Kenya forest.
The old bull did not follow. He moved back to the trough and drank more water, then sprayed himself again and settled down in my forest for a nap — moving little, resting deeply. He was there to stay.
He spent the night in my farm, comfortably, like an invited guest with plenty of food. I kept watch until the moonlight was right. I saw him reach for a branch, munch on it, then drift to sleep — alternating between eating and resting. He was unbothered. Entirely at home. At about 1:00 AM I went to sleep, waking again at 5:00 AM to check on him. He was rising up, stretching his trunk high to gather green leaves into his mouth. He seemed to show a fine sense of discipline and respect for my forest.
At about 9:00 AM, a crowd had gathered outside my steel gate — armed with all manner of hand weapons, wanting to kill my giant visitor. I gave them orders to leave, which they obeyed. In that moment, the difference between a dead elephant and a living one was a single decision — mine. I then called the KWS officers at the Nyeri office, who arrived almost immediately. I instructed them not to let anyone disturb my visitor.
He stayed in the forest most of the day. When the sun went down, he left my forest and took the road his herd had taken the previous day. KWS officers followed the giant to ensure his safety through the farms — all the way to Mount Kenya forest, 30 kilometres away.
That night reminded me of what is possible when people choose patience over fear. Wildlife does not need our permission to exist — it needs our restraint.
If this story moved you, consider supporting the work that keeps rangers in the field and corridors open for elephants like this one.
This account was shared with Wild East Visuals by The Wildlife Veteran, a former wildlife warden who served in Kenya's national parks and reserves. It is published here as part of our Conservation Notes series — firsthand stories from the people who have lived and worked closest to Africa's wildlife.
Wild East Visuals is a fine art wildlife photography and educational brand based in Nairobi, Kenya. A portion of every print sale supports wildlife conservation in East Africa.