Author: John Mwacharo

The Early Birders of Mutitu Hills

Posted on by John Mwacharo

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.

The Miracle in the Aquarium – A Butterfly Story

Posted on by John Mwacharo

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.

The Mangrove Keepers of Magarini

Posted on by John Mwacharo

By Justice Baya

Along Kenya’s beautiful coastline in Kilifi County, something exciting is happening. The Magarini Mangrove Community Forest Association (CFA) has just signed a historic agreement with the Kenya Forest Service, transforming local residents from bystanders into recognized caretakers of their beloved mangrove ecosystem.

Not long ago, the community faced familiar challenges: limited resources, unclear leadership, and a lack of interest that stifled many conservation efforts. However, everything changed when the Bengo Project, funded by Germany’s Federal Ministry for Economic Cooperation and Development (BMZ) through the World Wide Fund for Nature (WWF) Germanyand implemented by Nature Kenya, introduced a different approach focused on helping the people who actually live in this coastal area.

The change started with the basics. Community meetings came alive with fresh energy as residents rewrote their constitution, elected new leaders that included more women and young people, and started talking about what their mangrove forest could really become.

After months of planning and consultation, something positive emerged: a detailed five-year plan that looked like a dream list for coastal living. The plan brought together eco-tourism ideas, fish farming in mangrove creeks, beekeeping among the trees, forest restoration, and new ways for families to earn a living, all while taking care of the environment they depend on.

The real turning point came with signing the Forest Management Agreement between the Magarini Mangrove CFA and the Kenya Forest Service (KFS). The agreement goes beyond paperwork. It means the national government recognizes that the Magarini community knows how to take care of their mangrove backyard. Under Kenya’s forest laws, local communities now have both the rights and duties to manage their mangrove forest alongside KFS.

Positive Results

The changes are already showing up everywhere you look. Women have started successful mangrove nurseries, carefully growing seedlings that will protect the coast in years to come. Young people who used to look for work elsewhere are now finding careers in conservation and eco-tourism. Families are picking up new skills in fish farming and beekeeping that bring in steady money while keeping the mangrove ecosystem healthy.

Most importantly, there’s a real sense of pride building in the community. People now understand that their mangrove forest does much more than look good. It acts like a natural barrier protecting their homes from coastal erosion, provides nurseries where fish grow before swimming out to sea, and stores massive amounts of carbon that helps fight climate change.

A Model for the Coast

The ocean tides still roll in and out along Magarini’s shores, but now they’re seeing a community that has stepped up as environmental caretakers. What’s happening here shows something important: when communities get trusted to look after their natural surroundings, great things can happen.

The Bengo Project’s work in Magarini is already getting attention from other coastal communities in Kenya. It shows that good conservation stories combine protecting nature with helping people build better lives in the places they’ve always called home.

As the world prepares to celebrate International Day for the Conservation of the Mangrove Ecosystem on July 26, Magarini has something real to celebrate: locals who have rolled up their sleeves and taken charge of protecting their mangrove backyard, proving that real conservation happens when communities lead the way.

When the Cuckoo Calls: Ancient Wisdom Guides Modern Lives in Yala Swamp

Posted on by John Mwacharo

By Ayiro Lwala

In the remote village of Nyandeho in Yala Swamp, our community gathering had settled into the familiar rhythm of polite but uninspiring discussion. Then, without warning, everything changed.

An elderly woman named Mama Susan Otieno suddenly shot up, her hand cupped to her ear while the other pointed urgently toward the sky. Her excited voice cut through our conversation.

“Listen!” she called out with purpose. “Do you hear that?”

Above us, cutting through the air, came a sharp, insistent call: “Dak ti u do! Dak ti u do!” The Red-chested Cuckoo had arrived, its voice carrying a message that has guided this community for generations.

“It is time to go weed our farms,” Mama Susan announced with the authority of someone who has listened to nature’s voices for seven decades. “The cuckoo is telling us no more sitting around talking. Our crops need tending now.”

What happened next left us speechless. One by one, villagers began gathering their things to respond to this age-old alarm clock that ran on instinct rather than electricity. The cuckoo’s call grew louder as it settled on a nearby tree, as if supervising the human response to its urgent call.

In our modern world, I would have immediately reached for my smartphone and googled ‘Red-chested Cuckoo farming calendar’ or posted about this fascinating encounter on my social media platforms. But here in Nyandeho, my device had no signal, no internet, and no digital lifeline to the outside world.

Instead, I witnessed something far more powerful: a living connection between humans and nature that has survived countless generations.

“We don’t need smartphones to tell us what to do next,” explained Mzee Akello Obondo, an elder in the village. “Nature is our calendar, our weather forecast, our farming advisor. This knowledge has been passed down from our grandparents’ grandparents. It is how we have thrived here, even as the world changes around us.” His eyes twinkled with gentle amusement at our urban bewilderment.

This was Indigenous Knowledge Systems (IKS) in action. Not as a museum piece or academic study, but as vibrant, practical wisdom that helps local communities navigate uncertainties with confidence. Despite the disruptions of weather patterns caused by climate change, villagers in Nyandeho have maintained their connection to nature’s subtle signals, adapting and responding with remarkable resilience.

The Red-chested Cuckoo’s call wasn’t just about farming. It was about paying attention. In a world increasingly disconnected from natural rhythms, this encounter in a remote village offered a bold reminder that some of our most reliable guidance systems don’t require batteries, updates, or monthly subscriptions.

As I reluctantly gathered my things to leave (the meeting was officially over: the cuckoo had spoken), I could not help but marvel at what we had witnessed. Here was a community that had found a way to blend ancient wisdom with modern life, using traditional knowledge not as a replacement for technology, but as a foundation that makes them resilient regardless of what the modern world throws at them.

Perhaps the future isn’t about choosing between traditional knowledge and modern innovation, but about finding ways to honour both. In Nyandeho, they have already figured this out. The cuckoo calls, the people listen, and life continues in harmony with rhythms far older and more reliable than any smartphone alert.

The next time you hear a bird’s call, pause for a moment. It might just be telling you something important, if only you remember how to listen.

The Osprey’s Amazing Journey: From Finland to Kenya

Posted on by John Mwacharo

By Richard Kipngeno

June 3rd, 2025, started like any other morning in Yimbo, Siaya County. At the break of dawn, fishermen pushed their boats into the calm waters of Lake Victoria, hoping for a good catch. Among them was Walter Tende Oloo, who cast his nets with the skill that came from years of experience.

But this day would be anything but ordinary.

When Tende and his fellow fishermen returned to shore around midday, they discovered something unexpected tangled in one of their nets. A large bird of prey floated motionless in the water, its wings spread wide. The poor creature appeared to have struggled to free itself before exhaustion took over, and it had nearly drowned in the process.

Tende, who has always had a soft spot for birds, carefully pulled the exhausted bird of prey from the net. As he examined the bird more closely, he noticed something extraordinary: metal rings on both its feet.

“I rescued your bird!” Tende would later tell us with a smile when we arrived at his homestead.

Word of the ringed bird spread quickly through the village. Soon, curious neighbours gathered to see this unusual find, and the story even made it into the local newspapers. The Kenya Wildlife Service was contacted, who then reached out to Nature Kenya’s Siaya office. By nightfall, the news had reached us.

The next morning, we made the journey to Yimbo, arriving to find an even larger crowd of excited villagers waiting to learn more about their unexpected feathered guest. Tende welcomed us warmly into his compound and carefully retrieved the bird from a protective bag. Sadly, the bird had died.

There it was – an Osprey with rings on both feet. On the right foot, a silver ring bore the inscription: “Museum Zool Helsinki Finland WWW.RING.AC M-81516.” The left foot carried a yellow ring marked “C6.U.”

The crowd fell silent as the significance sank in. This bird of prey had travelled all the way from Helsinki, Finland, to the shores of Lake Victoria – a journey of thousands of kilometres!

Remarkably, it wasn’t even the first time such a discovery had been made in Yimbo. Back in 2020, Tende had rescued another Osprey in the same location, also bearing rings from Finland. This pattern hints that Yimbo could be an important stopping point for these amazing migratory birds on their epic journeys between Europe and Africa.

The villagers were fascinated as we explained the incredible world of bird migration – how ospreys and other birds navigate vast distances using natural instincts, following ancient routes that have been used for thousands of years. We also discussed the importance of protecting these travellers when they pass through local areas.

After carefully documenting the specimen, we began the six-hour journey back to Nairobi with our precious cargo. The osprey was handed over to the Ornithology Section at the National Museums of Kenya, where it will be preserved and become part of the museum’s important scientific collection.

This finding highlights the incredible connections that exist in our natural world. A bird ringed by researchers in the cold waters of Finland found its way to the warm shores of Lake Victoria, linking two communities thousands of miles apart through the wonder of bird migration.

Stories like this remind us why bird ringing programs are so valuable. Each ring tells a story of survival, navigation, and the remarkable journeys that connect our planet’s ecosystems.

The next time you see a bird overhead, remember – it might just be a world traveller with stories that span continents.