Lizzy Davies
Tuesday December 27, 2022
Elephants and zebras gather at the water troughs in the Tsavo conservation area during the drought in the northern and eastern parts of Kenya. Photograph: Sheldrick Wildlife Trust
It had been a tricky shoot for Alvin Kaunda, a young Kenyan
television reporter, but finally, after about 10 takes, he was managing to get
through it. His subject: a heartfelt dispatch about the plight of elephants
caught up in the drought. His backdrop: three dust-red, flappy-eared orphans
chomping through the greenery of their Nairobi home.
For about 30 seconds, Kaunda spoke movingly about the impact
of human activity on the ecosystem. Then it all started to go awry. First, a
trunk appeared in the reporter’s left ear, then on his head, then attached
itself to his nose, mistaking it, perhaps, for a spot of lunch. Kaunda, who had
soldiered on heroically until this point, collapsed into giggles.
The video, cannily released by the Kenyan Broadcasting
Corporation, went viral within hours of hitting social media in November, with
millions enjoying the reporter’s encounter with four-year-old Kindani. But the
heartwarming clip belied the poignancy of what he had been trying to report:
the difficulties faced by Kenya’s elephant population amid the worst drought in
40 years.
“Herbivores are the most vulnerable to drought. However, no
creature is more vulnerable than the elephant,” says Angela Sheldrick, head of
the Sheldrick Wildlife Trust, from where Kaunda’s video was shot.
“It is not so much a lack of water as a lack of food that
presents a fatal challenge. Elephants are greedy feeders with a poor digestive
system, with much passing through, so they must consume enormous quantities to
sustain themselves. During a drought, food sources diminish or disappear
altogether, which causes elephants to starve.”
For two years, the northern and eastern parts of Kenya,
along with much of the wider region, notably Somalia and Ethiopia, have been
struggling to cope with the cumulative impact of consecutive failed rainy
seasons. The drought has forced millions of people from their homes and pushed
people across the Horn of Africa into hunger, destitution and death.
Alongside this slow-moving humanitarian catastrophe lies
another crisis: the devastating impact on local wildlife, as lack of water
combines with more conflict. On the plains of the southern part of the vast
Tsavo conservation area in south-east Kenya, “the drought withered nearly all
food sources and huge swathes were just bare earth”, recalls Sheldrick. Across
the country, more than 200 elephants died due to the drought between February
and November, according to the Kenyan wildlife service.
There has since been some rain in Tsavo, but the storms have
been isolated and “not adequate to see us through until the next rainy season”,
Sheldrick says. If, as is feared, the December rains are poor, “we will face
increasingly desperate times”.
The Sheldrick Trust was founded by Angela’s mother,
conservationist Daphne Sheldrick, and has been rescuing orphaned elephants
since 1977. A Kenyan of British descent, Daphne discovered that infant
elephants could be nourished with formula containing coconut milk, a
breakthrough that enabled her and her colleagues to nurse even the sickest
orphans back to health.
Daphne – whose husband, David, was the first warden of Tsavo
national park – died in 2018, and their daughter has been CEO of the trust
since 2001. This year, she says, the charity has rescued “an unprecedented
number” of orphaned elephants from across Kenya – and more in the past two
years than in the previous five – finding them in life-threatening conditions
and flying them to safety.
“We have witnessed some great miracles; elephants who are as
good as dead but manage to come back from the brink. These are the successes
that galvanise us, for trying to rescue drought victims is too often a
heartbreaking endeavour,” she says.
Sheldrick also attributes the increase in survivals to a
“much more sympathetic approach” to conservation in Kenya. “Every day, people
are doing their best to raise the alarm,” she says.
There was a time you could say that rains would fall in
November and December but now, we can take nothing for granted” Angela
Sheldrick
In times of drought, as available water sources begin to dry
up, herds must move in search of sustenance, a coping strategy that is becoming
increasingly difficult due to the fragmentation of ancient migratory corridors
and the building of roads, railways and other developments. Add to this complex
navigation the urgency of needing to move in order to survive, and the most
vulnerable animals – the very young calves who are not yet strong enough to
make the journeys – will not always survive.
That is where – for the lucky ones – conservationists come
in. On the afternoon of 24 November 2021, for example, the Sheldrick Trust
received a call from scouts in Taita who had spotted an infant elephant alone
and in bad shape. It was presumed that, like many calves, Sagateisa had grown
too weak to keep up with the herd.
“She was desperately ravaged by the drought, jutting bones
encased in parchment skin … Even her ears began to droop forward listlessly
[when an elephant’s body condition is very poor, the ear cartilage collapses].
Banking on her survival seemed like a hope too far,” the Sheldrick website
says. However, survive she did. Angela Sheldrick even has her down as a
potential future matriarch.
Sheldrick, 59, does not know what next year will bring: the
climate crisis has robbed Kenyans of their confidence in weather patterns, of
each year following a predictable ebb and flow. “There was a time you could say
that rains would fall in November and December, and there would be no rain in
January, but that has all changed now … we can take nothing for granted,” she
says. “We don’t know what lies ahead, but these next few weeks will define the
next year.”
In the meantime, the phone will keep ringing, and the
elephants will keep coming. To date the trust has successfully raised 316
orphans and seen more than 50 babies born to orphans that were rehabilitated
and released back into the wild. “Stories like Sagateisa’s are unfolding every
day,” says Sheldrick. “They impel us to always go the extra mile and never give
up hope.”