Remembering Past Adventures: Climbing an Active Volcano in D.R. Congo

With global Coronavirus lockdown restricting international travel, my mind has been wandering to past adventures that provide an effective remedy to the claustrophobia of staying at home. Living and working in East Africa for several years (until recently), I have been privileged enough to have visited some amazing places – big on adventure, vibrant in culture and rich in biodiversity. One of my favourites is the mountainous region that straddles present-day Uganda, Rwanda and Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC) – a land of mountains, great apes, forests and volcanoes. Here’s a snapshot from a road-trip my partner Amy and I undertook in November 2017 – westwards from our home in Kampala, Uganda to Goma in DRC to climb mount Nyiragongo in Virunga National Park, one of the most active volcanoes in the world. Firstly, a long introduction…

ICCN Virunga ranger and porters, guiding us on our Nyiragongo hike, November 2017.

13, 176, 700, 1063. These numbers represent the harsh costs and benefits of conservation in Virunga National Park in DRC, Africa’s oldest and most-biodiverse national park. 13 Virunga rangers were killed in an ambush by militia in April 2020, adding to the death toll of 176 rangers killed whilst protecting the park. Virunga’s dense forests provide cover and resources for various rebel groups, largely legacies from the Rwandan genocide in the 1990s – making it one of the most dangerous places in the world to work in nature conservation. Nevertheless, 700 local people are employed as rangers in Virunga, benefiting from employment, training and a reliable salary in a region of economic hardship and limited opportunities.

Many of these rangers protect a significant portion of the 1063 remaining Mountain Gorillas (Gorilla beringei beringei) – found only in the greater Virunga region and nowhere else on planet Earth. Whilst these numbers may appear low – 1063 represents the typical attendance at a fifth tier football match in England – the trend is upwards from a low of around 250 individuals in the 1980s, thanks to conservation efforts underpinned by finance from international donors and lucrative eco-tourism initiatives.

Virunga is teeming with life. As well as mountain gorillas and 21 other species of ape, 7800 square kilometre Virunga national park is home to over 700 species of birds, 200 mammals, 109 reptiles and 78 amphibians.  Its mountains and forests determine the weather in this part of the continent, its rivers sustain life for hundreds of miles, and its trees sequester huge amounts of carbon dioxide, making it pivotal in the fight against climate change. Virunga’s influence stretches far beyond the national park boundary – protecting its ecosystem and the services it provides is paramount.

Mountain Gorilla silverback (picture taken in neighbouring Rwanda) – found in the greater Virunga and Bwindi areas, and nowhere else on Earth.

Natural resources – both blessing and curse:

Yet the abundance of natural resources has attracted competing interests – with international oil companies, developers, paramilitary rebels, indigenous peoples, and impoverished local people all vying with conservationists for access.  Well aware that successful conservation must go hand in hand with improving the lives of local people, the national park aims to drive sustainable development in this temperamental and uncertain region, led by an innovative hydroelectric power initiative, community development schemes, and job creation (thousands of people depend on the park for their livelihoods). This approach is having some success, with eco-tourism reportedly generating over $2 million per year for the park itself – although as the attack in April 2020 shows, the threats are real and the gains remain hard earned and fragile.

This region of DRC is a place of extremes; of life and death; of beauty and awe and wonder; of culture and dance and music; of such immense natural wealth and resources, yet ravaged by armed conflict, poor governance and poverty. For a geographer-photographer like me, it’s fascinating.

Yet I don’t want to dwell on the negatives. There’s been too much of that, and by now I know better. Whilst there are notable challenges, I love this region for the positivity, vibrancy and diversity of its people and cultures, not to mention the astounding nature. Living in Ethiopia and Uganda for a while enabled me to easily explore this part of the world. Prior to 2017 I had been blessed to have seen the wildebeest migration in the Serengeti, climb Kilimanjaro, raft the Zambesi, explore the rock-hewn churches of Lalibela, photograph endangered Ethiopian wolves, share home-brew beer with priests, witness mountain gorillas and chimpanzees up close, and have my rib-cage rattled by the roar of a lion. But I had never peered into the lave lake of an active volcano. A visit to Virunga made this dream possible!

A walk in the park – Virunga National Park, DRC.

Hiking Mt Nyiragongo:

Ascending 3470m Mt Nyiragongo thus became the focus of our Virunga mini-adventure. We organised permits and logistics through Visit Virunga, who provided clear guidance and essential visa letters for DRC. Staying in relaxed Gisenyi on the Rwandan side of Lake Kivu, we walked across the DRC border and, after some too-and-froing with the border officials in my woeful schoolboy French, we emerged into bustling Goma to be collected in a national park Land Rover.

The trailhead at Kibati Ranger Post is a short drive from downtown Goma, down a modern asphalt road lined with wooden shacks, colourful street vendors, smoking charcoal ovens, dilapidated former UN vehicles and, most memorably, Goma’s famous wooden bikes or chukudus that are used to transport everything from bananas to bricks.

Trekking today were four tourists in total – my partner Amy and I were joined by two UN pilots on their day off. We were ably assisted by a guide (Elysée), cook (William), several porters (Sabo, Bisimwa), and an armed park ranger (Filemon) “just in case”. We were happy to be in such a small group, enabling us to get to know our crew, and learn about the mountain.

Nyiragongo is a classic cone-shaped stratovolcano. This means that whilst the hike is only around 7km to the summit, it also means it is steep – gaining 1600m in those 7km (about 5 hours). As a keen photographer I decided to lug up a rucksack full of camera gear, much to the disappointment of my ageing back. I particularly wanted to get close up images of Nyiragongo’s lava lake, which sits a few hundred metres below the rim of the volcano’s 1.2 km crater, and thus required a heavy telephoto lens and tripod to keep things steady after sundown.  Comfort vs creativity.

Amy on the steep hike up Nyiragongo – fortunately the views are worth it!

Did I mention it is an active volcano?

This is an active volcano. In 1977 – the year of my birth – a major lava flow from Nyiragongo destroyed all in its path, killing a few hundred people. The volcano last erupted properly in 2002, its fluid lava spewed through vents in the flanks of the mountain at 100km/h and headed towards Goma town and Lake Kivu, forcing 200,000 people to flee for their lives. Our guide pointed out the offending vents as we ascended. Volcanologists are unable to accurately predict when Nyiragongo will next erupt, forcing us to reflect on what would happen if today was the day. At least I always favoured being cremated!

On this cloudy and humid day, the hike was fairly sticky as we ascended first through forested lower slopes and then into more open Afro-Alpine vegetation brimming with fragrant herbs and flowers, and striking mountain lobelias. We kept our eyes peeled for monkeys, chimps and bush bucks in the lower forests, seeing their trails and hearing their calls but unfortunately not the animals themselves. No doubt they saw us though.

Our team taking a breather at the final pit-stop before the summit of Nyiragongo.

Onwards and upwards we slowly plodded, after four sweaty hours reaching a shelter some 300m below the summit. Here we refuelled before the final push up the steep rocky slope to the summit – the crater rim. As we ascended the cloud descended, and so did the temperature. Reaching the windswept summit, we peered over the mouth of the crater for our first glimpse of the lava lake, partially obscured in the late afternoon cloud and blanketed in swirling, noxious gases (notably sulphur dioxide). Gusts of warm wind periodically brought the heat, smell and toxins of the volcano to us, as we stared on intently from the cliff edge above.

Nyiragongo volcanic crater – looks deceptively innocent by day…

After dark – when the magic happens:

Under cover of darkness the lava lake took on a new personality – glowing flame-orange and red-hot against the ink of the African sky, fire illuminating the crater walls as the plumes of smoke danced skywards. Mesmerised, we sat for hours looking on in awe and photographing. The surface of the lava lake, all blackened crust interlaced with red rivulets of boiling molten rock, was particularly hypnotic – rhythmically ebbing and flowing like the swell of an ocean. It wasn’t just the visual dimension that was enchanting, the volcano is an aural feast too – cracking, hissing, creaking, exploding. And obviously you can feel the heat that stems from the magma bubbling away at over 900 degrees Celsius only a few hundred metres away. Totally tectonic.

It reminded me of my last encounter with an active volcano, when I visited Kilauea in Hawaii as a naïve and adventurous youth 20 years ago. Alone, I decided to hike over the old, jagged, hardened-black lava flows to find where the new molten lava would be flowing – an exciting dream for a recent geography graduate. Further I walked, grazing my flesh on the razor sharp new rock, and gradually feeling hotter and hotter as I got closer to my goal. It got so hot that the rubber soles of my shoes started to melt, and I thought “I hope I am close to the lava as it might be dangerous to go further”. Looking down I noticed that the blackened rock beneath my feet seemed to be moving slowly, as if a piece of detritus flowing in a ponderous river. ‘Holy Moly’ I thought (likely in more colourful language), realising that I might actually be stood on a crust of cooled, hardened rock atop the boiling lava flow. Retracing my steps, I headed home exhilarated, and vowed not to tell my mother of the experience.

Ahh, the warm glow of molten rock from the piping hot crater of an active volcano…

Back on Nyiragongo and more risk averse these days, I stayed up after my companions had gone to bed in order to have the volcano all to myself. I witnessed a thunder storm brewing over Lake Kivu, and was rewarded with lighting illuminating the skies over Goma town – flickering artificial lights juxtaposed against the starry Congolese night sky and the potency of the volcano.

Storm over Goma, from the huts atop Mt Nyiragongo.

I live for these moments in nature, feeling vulnerable and insignificant amidst such raw and uncontrollable power and beauty. This is my spirituality. Despite the inherent risks of sitting atop an active volcano in a volatile region I never felt in danger; the mountain spirits were kind that day.

We slept soundly in the A-frame huts clinging on precariously at the summit, wrapped up in warm sleeping bags, beside the smouldering crater.

The morning after… Neighbouring Shaheru crater, from the summit of Mt Nyirongongo.

The Return:

Next day, we descend back down the mountain whence we came, grateful to our guide, rangers and porters for getting us there and back safely and in comfort. Although only a one night stand, I was thrilled to have shared a night with Nyiragongo, and pleased my tourist dollars have contributed towards the conservation and development of this amazing place. My only regret was that we didn’t have time or resources to delve deeper into Virunga, and see its other natural wonders (most notably mountain gorillas that can be visited at a fraction of the cost of neighbouring Rwanda and Uganda). With its improved tourist infrastructure in recent years, Virunga is definitely a place I’d like to return to – hopefully in more peaceful and prosperous times, and with better French.

Further action:

Watch the excellent documentary about Virunga –

Visit Virunga –

Donate to support rangers, conservation and sustainable development in Virunga National Park –


Change and Viruses

These are strange times we’re living in. With virtually the whole human population in some form of lockdown due to the Covid 19 pandemic, our world as we know it is changing before our eyes. Human health has, for now, trumped the economy as society’s number one priority. Nations have retreated into themselves; closing borders and eliminating trans-border trade. The Economist is heralding the end of globalisation. It is almost encouraged that government should closely monitor people and restrict their behaviour. Un-adultered capitalism has (for the second time in 12 years) proved utterly un-resilient in the face of a major shock, forcing governments (for the second time in 12 years) to bail us out. Neo-liberalism favours fair-weather.

Not everyone observed strict lockdown rules. Here a group flout social distancing regulations on Elwood beach in Melbourne during Covid 19, April 2020. Copyright Tom Broadhurst.

The global world order is shifting, and leadership is being redefined. The most effective leaders in this crisis  – in New Zealand, Taiwan, Denmark – have shown humility, decisiveness and clear communication (both listening and speaking). Whereas the patriarchal approaches of the traditional heavyweights has led to the highest rates of coronavirus infection and death in USA, Russia, Brazil and UK. The out-dated strong men have proved less effective than the empathetic strong women.

The virus itself has proven indiscriminate, effecting people of all backgrounds, flavours and resources. Nevertheless, the poor are (as usual) most threatened by the socio-economic impacts of the pandemic, whilst many of the super-rich continue to get richer.

Encouraging signs… Note in a house window in Balaclava, Melbourne, expressing solidarity during Covid 19 lockdown. Melburnians placed teddy bears in their windows, creating something of an urban treasure trail for local children. Copyright Tom Broadhurst.

Closer to home, schools and businesses have adapted their working practices – using technology to engage their learners and employees wherever they are. The daily commute is, for many, a matter of hoping from their bed to their dining table. People are learning new skills or re-visiting old ones, and are reconnecting with their families, neighbours or housemates. The general pace of life – at least where I am in Melbourne – is slowing down. Creativity is being unleashed. Nature has been given a break – air quality has improved, carbon emissions have dipped, wild animals are occupying some of the spaces we’ve (temporarily) vacated. Localism is the new globalism. Renewable energy is replacing fossil fuels. Are these short term survival measures, or a sign of things to come?

A penguin enjoys some respite from the usual hoards of tourists at St Kilda Pier, Melbourne, Australia, during Covid 19 lockdown, April 2020. Copyright Tom Broadhurst.

Yet as always there are winners and losers. Too many people have died, others are losing their livelihoods and struggling to feed their families. Domestic violence and mental health issues are sadly on the rise. Some people are scared. Many are changing their plans, some are changing their perspectives. The rules of the game have been turned on their head. Collectively, our priorities might just be changing.

Quiet and calm were restored to the usually packed public spaces of Melbourne. Here St Kilda skate park lies closed and deserted during Covid 19 lockdown. Copyright Tom Broadhurst.

With prominent conservationists and scientists highlighting the zoonotic origins of Covid-19, we’re beginning to understand the link between the destruction of nature and the wellbeing of our own species. The penny might finally drop in society’s collective consciousness that our ‘old’ consumption-based economic system is incompatible with the viability of our planet and civilisation. Reflecting on the lessons of the pandemic, it feels like a good opportunity to create a new ‘normal’ – one that’s clean, fair, green, inclusive, equal, resilient. One that prioritises wellbeing over wealth.

Against this turbulent backdrop my own world is rapidly changing. In the last 2 months, I’ve moved house, changed jobs, and my partner and I are expecting our first child any day now. Now I’ve just written my first blog for nearly 2 years, and I’ve not made a single joke. My whole world is changing.  Whatever next?

The Conservatory at St Kilda Botanical Gardens, on a peaceful morning during Covid 19 lockdown. Taken on a smartphone on my daily wander. Copyright Tom Broadhurst.

Tracking rhinos on foot in Uganda

“Follow my instructions at all times” stated Robert Tumusiime, my guide at Ziwa rhino sanctuary in Uganda, as we left our vehicle and headed into the African bush on foot.  Due to recent rains a proliferation of tall grasses populated the flat terrain, and colourful birds – flycatchers, rollers, bee-eaters, orioles, weavers – chattered and danced from tree to tree and bush to bush around us.  Apart from that it was wonderfully silent.

“It won’t be easy to see rhinos amongst all the vegetation” I said.

“Don’t worry, they are there” replied a smiling Robert.

“That’s precisely what I’m worried about!” I thought to myself.

Rhino Fund’s Robert Tumusiime gets me up close and personal to habituated rhinos at Ziwa.

With 24-hour monitoring by a team of trained and committed rangers, Robert and the team knew exactly where the rhinos were feeding that day.  Using a modern two-way radio and a more traditional series of whistles that each ranger understood, Robert and his team manoeuvred us to closer to our quarry.

And suddenly there they were.  And running in our direction…

“Keep calm”, said Robert as we hid in a dense thicket, “they are just playing with each other”.

Amazingly, we had encountered a large gathering of six or seven rhinos – adult females and their young – excitedly greeting each other, with two one-tonne youngsters jousting in a mock fight barely 20 metres from our bushy refuge.  Breathless and full of adrenaline, I nervously fiddled with my camera settings and fired off a couple of blurred frames.  Taking a deep breath, I composed myself and tried to be mindful and appreciate this close encounter.

Zawadi peaking through the undergrowth. Seasonal long grasses made photography a challenge!

I doubt I have enough adjectives to describe the experience of walking in the African bush alongside wild rhinos.  Wow, was all I could think.  On a regular safari, tourists are to a certain extent insulated from the wildness by their vehicles and the sound and smells of engines.  I’ve also had African wildlife-watching experiences on horse-back safaris (Victoria Falls in Zimbabwe), by bicycle (Lake Mburo in Uganda), and in a canoe (in Botswana’s Okavango delta).  None of them compared to this.  Being so close to such enormous armour-plated wild animals, protected only by the trust I had in my guide, his understanding of rhino behaviour, and a few small trees and shrubs, was an exhilarating experience to say the least.  It’s a full-on sensory overload.  Given their bulk (adult white rhinos can weigh 3 tonnes), rhinos are surprisingly quiet – yet at close quarters you can hear them breathe, snort and grunt to each other, coupled with the rhythmic sound of their grazing, and even the smell of the earth disturbed beneath their feet.  Visually, you can easily appreciate the rugged texture of their skin, their deep wrinkles, their huge toe-nails, their pig-like tails, their comparatively small eyes and – with a big lens or binoculars – even their wiry eyelashes.  And all to the beat of my over-active heart!  Wow indeed.

Later I was lucky enough to see, on separate occasions, both of the sanctuary’s new-born calves – Apache and Madam, with their mothers.  Far from being aggressive or over-protective, their mothers were calm and allowed my guide and I to observe them from a respectful distance.  For such large animals, they were remarkably gentle, though like all toddlers the youngsters were inquisitive and curious about their surroundings – playing in the mud, nibbling newly discovered plants, and occasionally gambolling around like spring lambs – before suckling from their mothers and having a nap in the shade once the equatorial sun got too hot.  I felt privileged to witness these moments of tenderness.

Feeding time for baby Madam and her mother Laloyo.

But how is all this even possible?  It’s all part of a unique project to reintroduce wild rhinos to Uganda, led by non-profit organisation Rhino Fund Uganda.  Historically both northern white rhinos (Ceratotherium cottoni) and their eastern black cousins (Diceros bicornis michaeli) could be found living in the country, but rampant poaching during Uganda’s post-independence conflicts was devastating for wildlife and wild rhinos were declared extinct in 1983.

Following decades of relative peace and stability, conservationists have sought to reintroduce rhinos to Uganda.  In the early 2000s an opportunity arose on a 7000 hectares privately-owned ranch in Nakasongola district, some 180km to the north of the capital city Kampala.   With a long-term lease on the land secured, non-governmental organisation Rhino Fund Uganda facilitated the re-introduction of six adult southern white rhinos in 2005/6 – genetic cousins of Uganda’s historical northern variety –  four trans-located from Kenya and two from Disney Animal Kingdom in the USA.  Nature took its natural course, and the first successful birth occurred in June 2009 – a male with joint Kenyan and American heritage.  Naturally they called him Obama!  Since then, Ziwa rhino sanctuary has gone from strength to strength, and the current population stands at 21 southern white rhinos – with two babies born in 2017.

“What we do here is completely unique,” states Rhino Fund Uganda’s passionate Executive Director Angie Genade, “We are tracking rhinos 24/7 and making important contributions to rhino research. Nobody monitors rhinos at night – we do.  Plus all of our main activities are on foot, not with a vehicle.  This is what makes it great”.

Tourism plays a major role in this innovative conservation initiative, with an active rhino trekking programme, an on-site lodge and opportunities for other wildlife encounters.

“It costs about $700,000 (USD) per year to run the sanctuary” Angie tells me. “At first we tried writing funding proposals to get money from donors, but we soon realised that the only way our concept would work is if we managed it like a business.  So we made a business plan to generate income.”

“The majority of the income comes from fees for trekking and other activities.  We had 14,000 visitors this past year to trek with rhinos.  They pay on average $40 each – do the maths, that’s a lot.” she adds.

Experienced guide (and Rhino Fund’s Community Liaison Officer) Kasujja Herbert briefs visitors before their rhino trekking experience. Thousands of visitors come to Ziwa each year to safely observe rhinos on foot, helping to fund their conservation.

Key grants also come from international zoos and conservation organisations, supporter donations, rhino naming and sponsoring initiatives, and through volunteers – who pay to participate in Rhino Fund’s conservation, education and community development projects.

“Every single shilling that we earn goes back into this project.” adds Angie.

Like everywhere as far as rhino conservation is concerned, the main threat to Ziwa is poaching.  In Africa in the last decade, an estimated 7245 rhinos have been poached for their horns – which are illegally exported to Asia for use in traditional medicine.  In South Africa alone, the rate of poaching was three rhinos per day in 2016.  As a result, tragically there are now only around 20,000 white and just 5,000 black rhinos left in the wild in the whole of the African continent, according to figures from Save the Rhino (  No surprises then that the rhinos’ welfare and security is Rhino Fund’s number one priority.

Horns have been removed from some of Ziwa’s rhinos – such as this large adult male Hasani, to reduce the temptation for poachers and minimise fighting amongst males.  Others are installed with microchips so that, should the worse happen, the criminals trafficking the horns can be traced and brought to justice.

So how do you keep 21 rhinos safe in an area of 70 square kilometres?  Well, for a start the sanctuary is surrounded by a solar-powered electric fence to keep the rhinos in and unauthorised people out, then there is Rhino Fund Uganda’s unique round-the-clock monitoring by a disciplined team of rangers, and regular foot patrols along with fence line and within the sanctuary itself.  The sanctuary takes a hard line with any suspected poachers and pushes strongly for prosecutions.

“The sanctuary can’t tolerate even a small amount of hunting for bush meat – the man who hunts bush meat today, will try rhino tomorrow” Security Manager Augustine Mudukoyi explains.

A disciplined cadre of rangers monitor Ziwa Sanctuary 24/7.  Their patrols help to keep the rhinos safe and also generate valuable research data on rhino behaviour.  Here the rangers participate in ‘parade’ in advance of their night shift.

The most important factor for protecting rhinos, however, is positive relations with the local community.

“If a person wants to poach rhino for its horn he doesn’t come to the reserve himself.  He visits the local community or tries to persuade our staff. So we need good relations with the community.  They become our informers” explains Head of Guides Opio Raymond.

Ensuring that relations with the local community are strong is easier said than done, however.  Before the sanctuary was established, the land was used by local people for grazing their cattle and for hunting for bush meat.  With the establishment of an enclosed rhino sanctuary these activities were prevented – with fines payable if people were caught.

“This created no friendship with the community” admits Opio.

Rangers like Francis record details of the behaviour and health of the rhinos that they are assigned to monitor each day, and help to maintain security.

Recognising the need for more carrot and less stick, Rhino Fund’s team revised their approach to community engagement.

“Slowly by slowly things started changing.  Firstly we set-up an education department and started sensitising the community to the benefits of wildlife.  We also invested in schools, roads, boreholes and other infrastructure so they began to see the importance of the sanctuary” Opio informs.

Pivotal to this was agreeing a mutually-beneficial arrangement for cattle grazing with local farmers.   Apart from the rhinos, Ziwa has very few large herbivores – with no elephants, zebras or buffalo – resulting in an abundance grasses and shrubs which local cattle herders have duly noted.

“During one drought a herdsman with over 200 cows cut the fence and was arrested.  He accepted that what he was doing was wrong, but he could not bear to see his cows die when there was grazing in the sanctuary. As a result of this, the management sat down and agreed that herdsmen could enter in the morning and leave in the afternoon to graze their cows.  The community was very, very happy about this.  It led to the greatest change in community relations” recalls Opio.

“We now have a coordinated programme for cattle keepers to train them how to behave in the sanctuary.  We have a t-shirt system so we can recognise anyone in the sanctuary (each herder wears a coded blue t-shirt), and an ID-card system.  No ID – no grazing” explains Community Liaison Officer Kasujja Herbert.

Local herdsman Israelite has an agreement with Rhino Fund to graze his 40 cows inside the sanctuary from dawn until dusk.  This benefits the local community and helps to manage the sanctuary’s natural habitats. Note his uniquely coded blue t-shirt, which Rhino Fund rangers use to identify him from a distance.

Another factor that is strengthening Rhino Fund’s standing is employing people from the local community (and ensuring their jobs are fulfilling), with the sanctuary now employing around 114 people in total – of which around 70% of staff are from the local area.

“In the past people in the local community were angry as the people who worked in the sanctuary were from outside.  Now more local people are employed – so they feel they are looking after their own animals” notes Kasujja.

Furthermore, paying fair wages, facilitating career progression and having a disciplined workforce helps to strengthen Rhino Fund’s standing in the community.

“It is vitally important that our people are satisfied, to ensure that working for Rhino Fund becomes a passion not just a job.  That way they take ownership” states Angie.

2H3A8303 Dorcus-1
Rhino Fund has created employment for dozens of people from surrounding areas – including rangers, guides, administrators, retailers, hospitality, security, maintenance and many more. Dorcus here proudly manages the sanctuary’s stores.

Outreach and awareness raising programmes – such as giving talks in local schools and organising visits to the sanctuary for school children, are also important for creating favourable local attitudes.

“If we can increase people’s interest in wildlife in general, we ultimately support rhino conservation.  It’s about people understanding what nature does, and what wildlife brings to their country” Angie explains.

Collectively these actions have created favourable conditions for rhino security – with the objective of reducing the risk of poaching. And so far, it appears to be working:

“There are still a few hunters, but 95% of local people are supporting the sanctuary” Opio proudly states.

So Angie’s message for other conservation initiatives is clear: “Embrace your community. This is vital in any conservation project – if the community don’t buy into what you are trying to do, you will fail – they will make you fail.  You need to try to have a relationship that benefits both parties.  No matter where you go in the world, working with the community is vital for conservation.”

Rhino Fund supports a range of community development initiatives.  Here local men remove  water hyacinth – an environmentally damaging invasive plant – from a local watercourse.    Rhino Fund fund’s this initiative and their foreign volunteers often work with the local community to do this important work. It’s removal benefits local transport providers and fishermen as well as the environment.

So what’s the long term goal?  To see rhinos re-introduced to the wild of course.

Opio smiles as he explains that “my dream is the same as that of the whole sanctuary – we want to see rhinos put into Uganda’s national parks again, that’s our dream.  We are pioneers in rhino conservation, so would love to see that happen”.

Angie elaborates, “I would like a similar concept to be created within national parks – doing on foot rhino trekking to generate income to support their conservation.  Starting with fenced enclosures of 7,000-10,000 hectares within national parks and 50-60 rhinos per sanctuary, we can generate a breeding population for release.  Once we’ve got a population of 300-400 rhinos nationwide we can then consider reintroducing them to the wild in national parks.  That is good rhino management.  And this concept works.”

Whether this dream will ever become a reality depends on many factors – political will, governance, regional security, funding, Uganda’s development path, tourism infrastructure, public attitudes, global demand for rhino horn and so on – but I can’t help but be drawn to its positivity and ambition.  In its own small way, my rhino trekking experience at Ziwa has contributed to moving a step closer towards achieving this vision.  What’s more, seeing the new-born calves Apache and Madam has given me hope for the future; hope that one day their offspring will be able to roam wild in Uganda’s protected areas.  That after all is what nature intended.

Madam, Ziwa’s latest addition (as of late 2017).  Named after Rhino Fund Uganda’s Executive Director Angie Genade, who the staff affectionately and respectfully call Madam.


Africa’s rhinos remain under serious threat, but by supporting Rhino Fund and other organisations working for their conservation we can continue to give them the best possible chance for the future.

There are many ways that you can do this, as Angie herself explains:

“The best way to support rhino conservation in Uganda is by visiting the sanctuary.  Once someone has seen what a special place it is they will support it.  There is something for everyone.  Some people are interested in the community, some in education and others in conservation, and it’s possible to support any one of those.”

“You can also adopt a rhino, name a rhino or make a donation. All contributions go directly to our projects.  It could be buying a hoe, a wheel barrow, binoculars, or a bicycle for rangers.”

So visit and get involved!  Or book a stay at

And please follow me on Instagram where I will be sharing some of the personal stories of the staff working at Ziwa.

An hour with orphaned elephants

Now that I have lost my blogging virginity, I feel confident enough to come back for a second time and try some more-adventurous moves. In the current climate of bad news, fake news, pointless news and despair, it’s easy to forget that there are inspiring people and organisations that are doing great things to make our planet a better place. So this blog will be used to share some positive stories.

First up, allow me to entice you with some baby elephants!

Enkesha accepts some food
Enkesha is learning how to use her trunk, after it was damaged by a snare.

Meet Enkesha, who was found weak, distraught and severely injured in the Mara Conservancy area of Kenya’s Maasai Mara.  Tragically, she was spotted with a poacher’s wire snare almost severing her trunk, and she was in tremendous pain.  Although amongst a large herd of wild elephants, including her mother, an examination by the Mara Mobile Veterinary Unit and Kenya Wildlife Service, the Veterinary Officer determined that she would have to be operated upon or risk losing her trunk.  For an elephant this is potentially life threatening – a elephant’s trunk contains an estimated 40,000 muscles (consisting of 150,000 muscle fascicles) and is used for breathing, smelling, touching, grabbing, lifting, drinking, bathing, swimming and communicating.  Significantly, trunks are used to suck up water so that elephants can drink, and have two dexterous extensions at the end of the nose that allow them to grasp food and bring it to their mouth. Without a functioning trunk, Enkesha was highly unlikely to survive in the wild.

So on 11th February 2017 – my 40th birthday – one-year old Enkesha was temporarily patched up in the field, before the difficult but life-saving decision to remove her from her family was made, and she was airlifted to the David Sheldrick Wildlife Trust’s elephant orphanage in Nairobi.  Here she underwent a 3-hour operation to partially reconstruct her severed trunk, and began the slow road to recovery.

Orphaned elephants develop strong relations with their keepers, who commit to elephant conservation for the long term.

In September I had the pleasure of meeting Enkesha whilst visiting the DSWT elephant orphanage in Nairobi. Since 1977 DSWT has successfully rescued and raised over 190 orphaned elephants, with the mission of reintegrating them back into the wild herds of Tsavo National Park. The Trust was set up by Dame Daphne Sheldrick in memory of her late husband, naturalist David Sheldrick, and is currently managed by their daughter Angela – continuing the family tradition of wildlife conservation.

The Orphans Project rescues young elephants who have become separated from their mothers and/or wouldn’t survive in the wild, and rehabilitates them at the nursery. The individual elephants’ stories are heart-rending, and many arrive traumatised – from being rescued from trapped wells, found like Enkesha trapped in disfiguring snares, or discovered alone and terrified following the massacre of their mother by poachers (see here).

Feeding time at the orphanage

The nursery aims to provide a stimulating and caring environment which gives the orphans the best possible chance to recover.  This can’t be easy for the baby elephants – unfamiliar with (kind) humans, and without their families from whom they learn how to be a successful wild elephant.  Yet through round-the-clock hour care from a professional and dedicated team of keepers, and the company of other young elephants, most orphans gradually recuperate and get to experience happy times.  The keepers act like a foster family to the youngsters – even sleeping alongside. Importantly the keepers are all local people with a long term commitment – not well-meaning short-term, foreign volunteers (as in some conservation projects).  This not only creates local jobs, it also aims to reduce the risk of the orphans (re-)experiencing emotions of attachment and loss as their would-be carers come and go.  A keeper’s role includes feeding the infants a special milk formula every 3 hours. This enables the young elephants to build up strength – and get up to mischief!

At DSWT the orphaned elephants are fed a special formula designed to be a substitute for their mothers’ milk.

Everyday for just one hour tourists are allowed to witness the orphans having a seemingly-delightful mud bath and being fed. It enables some up close and personal encounters with these characterful and social creatures.   It is in these circumstances that I encountered Enkesha and her friends, who at 11am each day come scampering excitedly from their shelters to a cordoned-off area of mud pools and feeding stations in Nairobi National Park. Here they gambol, play, bathe, eat, drink and are merry – and occasionally interact with the dozens of tourists that flock daily to the nursery witness these awe-inspiring animals.

This young ellie enjoys a mud bath at DSWT in Nairobi.

I’ve always loved observing elephants in the wild – their intelligence, emotions, social-interaction and family politics make for captivating viewing that’s much better than watching an episode of EastEnders.  They are perhaps my favourite African animal. I’ve seen elephants at close quarters on several occasions – once our vehicle being rammed by a rightly-disgruntled adult in Sri Lanka as a result of an irresponsible ‘wildlife guide’ driving too close; and I fondly remember being captivated by scores of elephants frolicking in water just yards away from me at the excellent submerged-hides in South Africa’s Madikwe game reserve.  Nevertheless, my one-hour in the company of these happy young elephants at play at DSWT was one of my most memorable animal encounters.  The gasps and looks of joy on the faces of my fellow tourists – including Kenyan school children – implied that I was not alone in my appreciation.

Feeding time at DSWT
Young elephant at DSWT’s Nairobi nursery, which is open to viewing by tourists for one hour each day.

At one moment a young elephant, seeing me squatting down to get eye-level photographs, came over to investigate – wrapping his trunk around my arm in what I interpreted as a moment of inquisitive tenderness.  For me it was a special encounter that I’ll always remember.  Usually as a wildlife photographer I refrain from getting too close to (wild) animals, preferring to observe rather than influence animal behaviour.  This occasion seemed to be on the young elephant’s terms, and afterwards he trotted back to his mud bath to continue the fun and games with his friends.  Yes he is in captivity at present – but this is not a zoo and one day he’ll be ready to go back to live a wild life.

Enkesha drinking at DSWT
Enkesha’s trunk was damaged by a poacher’s snare – meaning she has to adapt her drinking method.

Seeing little Enkesha trying to use her disfigured truck to drink water was also quite emotional for me – thinking that a fellow human being caused this (although perhaps not intentionally).  She resorted to drinking directly with her mouth from a large barrel.  Would she have survived if left in the wild? It’s debateable, but what’s for sure is that she appeared a happy little ellie here at DSWT, and was slowly but surely adapting to her circumstances.  Hopefully one day she might be able to fend for herself.

After half an hour eating, playing and bathing its time for the young elephants to head back to their quarters – with some more enthusiastic than others!

Whilst the elephant orphanage is one of the most popular tourist attractions in Nairobi, more importantly a visit to the orphanage also contributes to the conservation of these amazing animals in the wild.  As well as supporting the running of the nursery, the funds generated from tourism and other fundraising activities are reinvested into mobile veterinary teams, education programmes, anti-poaching initiatives, aerial surveillance, research and community outreach activities in Kenya.  This is absolutely vital.  In Africa as a whole, the population of wild elephants has fallen from an estimated 26 million when Europeans first arrived in Africa in the 1500s, to 1.3 million in 1979, and now just 400,000 (source).  That’s a decline of 30% in the last 40 years.  This means that in the whole of the African continent – an area three times the size of the USA – the population of wild elephants is roughly equivalent to the human population of New Orleans (USA), or Wichita (USA), or Nottingham (UK), or Kisumu (Kenya), or Bochum (Germany), or Halifax (Canada), or Cusco (Peru), or Canberra (Australia), or…. you get the picture.   Think about that for a second.

Aside from the fun, adorable side of the orphan’s project, the purpose of the DSWT is ultimately to ensure that the population of wild elephants in Kenya is allowed to flourish.  Elephants in Kenya and other African countries are under enormous pressure – not just from well –publicised ivory poaching, but also from habitat loss, expansion of the agricultural frontier and climate change.  All of these factors are caused by us humans, whose activities are squeezing, fragmenting and disrupting elephants’ populations and natural ranges.

Pretty well hung for a 6 month old!

DSWT plays a valuable role in stemming the tide.  Over 190 elephants have been raised by the nursery to date, graduating when they’re deemed ready to one of three ‘rehabilitation stockades’ in the Tsavo ecosystem, a kind of halfway house that prepares the elephants for gradual integration into the wild herds of the Tsavo Conservation Area.  Proving that good things come to those who wait, this process may take up to 10 years!  It’s worth it, however, and the ultimate measure of success of this whole initiative is that many ex-orphans have become parents themselves since reintegrating – ensuring the next generation of elephants can live wild and free. One day Enkesha will join them.

Herding elephants
The young orphaned elephants head home after feeding time.

You can support the Trust’s work by fostering one of the orphans (like Enkesha), making a donation and, like me, visiting their orphanage next time you’re in Nairobi.  For more information visit or follow on Instagram @dswt.

And don’t forget to follow me too for more photos and stories of conservation, travel and development from Africa and beyond (@broadhurst.tom).


The 40-year old (blog) virgin

And so here it is, my first ever blog post – at the ripe old age of 40!  I set up this website to show a few of my photos unto the world, and to share my experiences of living in other countries with my family, friends and anyone else who is interested.  If you’re reading this, that means you – thanks!

Admittedly, I’m a bit late to the party on this one.  I left my homeland, the UK, in 2010 and have since lived in Bolivia, Ethiopia and now Uganda.  I’ve got a lot of catching up to do on in terms of blogging about these adventures.   So let this first blog be by way of introduction.

As an avid traveller with a passion for nature and diverse cultures, I’m keen to share with others the wonder that is planet Earth.  I also want to raise some awareness – with text and images – about what we are doing to the planet – our one and only home.  Excessive consumption – driven by a misguided pursuit of economic-growth-at-all-costs and rapid population growth – is steadily destroying our planet’s diversity and capability to support life (if you don’t believe me, read the work of Johan Rockström).

Things that are fundamental for survival of all species, including our own, are under threat from our actions as individuals and societies.  We’re draining wetlands that purify freshwater, concreting over our gardens, buying stuff that destroys rainforests, contaminating our oceans with plastic waste, polluting the atmosphere with our cars and the factories where we work, and burning fossil fuels that transplant carbon from the ground (where it’s harmless) to the atmosphere (where it’s accelerating the warming of our planet at unprecedented rates).  It’s not looking too good for us, and our fellow creatures, if we carry on at this rate.

25 Police TIPNIS
Police take a breather from preventing protesters from reaching Plaza Murillo, La Paz’s parliament square, during a TIPNIS march in July 2012. Thousands of people converged on La Paz in support of the Territorio Indigena y Parque Nacional Isiboro Sécure (TIPNIS). The government of Evo Morales sought to exploit fossil fuels in the park, despite the protests of indigenous people from the Tsimané, Yuracaré, and Mojeño-Trinitario peoples and their supporters. Copyright Tom Broadhurst.

I’ve seen humans mistreat Mother Earth all over the place.  In the UK I spent time living in the Lake District – which is scenic yet often ecologically barren due to sheep farming and poor land management.  In Bolivia (oh, Evo!), I’ve seen indigenous people protesting the construction of a trans-America highway through their traditional lands (TIPNIS) – bringing in cocaleros, agriculturalists and traders to destroy their way of life and the biodiverse forests of Amazonia too.  In Ethiopia’s Simien Mountains, overgrazing by livestock, erosion-inducing cultivation on steep mountain sides, and poverty are undermining the integrity of the ecosystem – one of the last locations where endangered endemic species such as the Ethiopian wolf and Walia Ibex can be found.  And in Uganda, wildlife has been forced to the margins – forests are making way for sugar cane plantations, and people and wild animals come into conflict in those few locations where wildlife still remain. Sigh.

Urban expansion, Addis Ababa
The expanding city of Addis Ababa, seen from neighbouring Oromia region, 2015. Civil protests in 2015 and 2016 in Ethiopia were partly attributed to the expansion of Addis Ababa into Oromo territory. Copyright Tom Broadhurst.

But all is not lost!  I’ve also seen hopeful pockets of good news – of people doing great things to help their friends to live low impact lifestyles, encouraging their communities to improve their lives without destroying the environment, and taking steps to protect and regenerate the natural systems around them.  These are the people about whom we should be telling stories – showing what they do to make the world better, and demonstrating how we can do it too.  So whilst I love a good rant I’ll try to keep this blog as upbeat as possible.  And that way I hope someone somewhere will be inspired to make positive change – and if they can, then I can; and if I can, then you can; and if you can, then we all can…. And step by step the egg will start to walk (as they say in Ethiopia).

Playful gorillas
Mountain gorilla infants enjoying life in the Volcanoes National Park in Rwanda, 2015