August 2025 – Nature Kenya

By David Magoma Odhiambo

“Waking up with the birds” is a phrase that has truly taken root in the rural areas of Mutitu Hills in Kitui County. I had the opportunity to experience this first-hand when I joined the Mutitu Hills Site Support Group members for a common bird monitoring session on 19 July 2025. This was a remarkable experience that would forever shape my view of community-led conservation.

The pre-dawn darkness still held the earth when Richard Kipngeno and I met nine group members, some minutes past 4:00 am, at the Ndooa market centre. The air was cold and filled with distant calls of awakening birds. I was surprised to find the members ready that early, their faces bright with anticipation. Most were women, a reflection of the quiet leadership driving grassroots conservation.

“Others will join us in a few minutes,” said Jennifer Kakania, the team leader, carrying binoculars and a notebook. After a quick breakfast, we proceeded to Yaniambia, next to the Mutitu Hills Forest, arriving at 6:30 am.

“If you want to see the birds here, you must wake up early,” Jennifer explained. “Right now you can hear their calls, but as the sun rises, you’ll see them leaving their nests to find food. We like to wake up with the birds.”

Richard took the group through the basics of bird identification, and at about 7:30 am, we started the monitoring exercise. As the morning wore on, we trekked through the forest, recording each bird we saw or heard. Throughout the three-and-a-half-hour session, the group’s vibrancy and endurance were remarkable. They moved through the forest with quiet confidence, meticulously recording each sighting with time, location and behaviour patterns. We recorded 30 bird species, with notable ones including Brown Snake Eagle, Little Sparrowhawk, Rüppell’s Robin-Chat, Spotted Morning-Thrush and Green-winged Pytilia.

The group members shared how their activities began with just a few interested people, but much had changed over five years. Mutuku, another group member, pointed out a flash of brilliant blue darting between tree branches. “We have conducted extensive awareness campaigns about the importance of birds and conserving the Mutitu Hills forest. This is why more people are joining us,” he explained. “Birds are very peaceful, and when you see them flying and feeding, you feel good. They remind us we’re part of something larger.”

Queen Ndewa, another member, shared the challenges they face. “The local community still possesses traditional knowledge of birds. Our elders can tell you which calls predict rain, which signal changing seasons,” she said. “But interest in birds remains low, especially amongst youth who treat them with little regard. We’re working hard to educate them about how birds can promote tourism, help with seed dispersal, and indicate changes in our environment.”

“Each bird tells a story,” Jennifer added. “Local birds tell us about our indigenous vegetation’s health. Migratory birds tell us about changing weather patterns across continents. When we lose birds, we lose these vital messages.”

Mutitu Hills Forest is a Key Biodiversity Area hosting over 100 bird species, including both Afrotropical and Palearctic migrants. The forest shelters the Kenyan endemic Hinde’s Babbler, the magnificent Martial Eagle, and the threatened Pallid Harrier, all species that tell crucial stories about ecosystem health.

As the bird monitoring exercise concluded, I realised I had witnessed community-driven conservation in action. The group’s dedication represented something precious: the marriage of traditional knowledge with modern conservation science, the power of community action, and the truth that protecting nature begins with learning to see it.

My takeaway was that we must all learn to ‘wake up with the birds’ to better understand the environment around us.

By Ravi Singh

One morning, as the sun peeked over the garden wall, my gardener approached me with a troubled expression. “Sir,” he said, “insects are eating the leaves of our plants. We must spray and kill them immediately!”

Curious and concerned, I followed him to inspect the damage. To my surprise, the insects weren’t ‘harmful pests’ at all; they were caterpillars. As a proud member of Nature Kenya, a group dedicated to conserving wildlife and ecosystems, I recognized them immediately.

I snapped a photo and shared it with our Nature Kenya community. Within minutes, someone identified them as Acraea butterfly caterpillars. The news stunned my gardener. “Butterflies come from these? But they’re ruining the plant!” he exclaimed.

The plant in question was Tinospora, a climber with heart-shaped leaves. Interestingly, Tinospora isn’t native to Africa. It originates from India and has been valued for its medicinal properties for centuries, even mentioned in ancient Indian texts. Why did this butterfly choose an exotic plant for egg-laying? Perhaps it was a silent sign: as native plant species vanish due to human development, butterflies have fewer choices. They adapt, turning to whatever is available, often the non-native plants people grow for beauty over biodiversity.

That moment was an awakening.

Many people, like my gardener, don’t understand the butterfly life cycle. They see hungry caterpillars and think ‘destruction,’ unaware that these fragile creatures are on a delicate journey toward becoming pollinators: essential links in our ecosystem.

Most butterflies don’t migrate far. If their host plants are lost, their populations can collapse. Their survival depends entirely on us creating safe spaces and letting nature take its course.

One Nature Kenya member suggested something unconventional: “Why don’t you raise them?”

I had an old empty aquarium. With curiosity and care, I gently transferred the caterpillars into it and began feeding them fresh Tinospora leaves each day.

In less than a week, a miracle began. One by one, the caterpillars stopped eating and crawled to the corners of the glass. Hanging upside down, they transformed into pupae: lifeless and still, like tiny sculptures suspended from the roof.

“Are they dead?” someone asked.

“No,” I smiled. “They’re just dreaming.”

On the sixth day, I saw movement. One chrysalis cracked open, and a beautiful Acraea butterfly emerged, wings soft and shimmering like painted silk.

Then came another, and another. By the end of the week, 30 butterflies had emerged, a 100% success rate!

I called the gardener over. As he watched those butterflies flutter inside the aquarium, his face softened. “You were right,” he whispered.

He had witnessed a transformation, not just of caterpillars into butterflies, but of perception into awareness.

Why This Matters

Butterflies aren’t just beautiful; they are pollinators, indicators of environmental health, and part of the web that sustains life on Earth. If butterflies disappear, so do many plants and animals that depend on them. Raising awareness about their life cycle and habitat needs is crucial.

Why This Was a Celebration

This reminded me – and now perhaps you – that hope can be nurtured in a glass box. Even small creatures like caterpillars deserve our patience, protection, and understanding. It was a celebration of life, of nature’s resilience, and of the power of one small decision to make a difference.

So next time you see a half-eaten leaf, don’t rush to destroy. You might be looking at the first chapter of a butterfly’s story.

And like I did, you too can become part of that miracle.

What We Can Do

Don’t kill caterpillars blindly. Identify them first.
Grow native plants, not just decorative ones. Native flora supports native fauna.
Avoid pesticides; they don’t discriminate between pests and pollinators.
Teach children the butterfly life cycle. They learn empathy through observation.
Join nature groups like Nature Kenya. Collective learning leads to stronger action.

Month: August 2025

The Early Birders of Mutitu Hills

The Miracle in the Aquarium – A Butterfly Story