Nature Blog

KBA in Focus: Kwenia

Posted on by John Mwacharo

By Joshua Sese

Situated in the centre of Kajiado County’s semi-arid landscape, Kwenia Key Biodiversity Area harbours remarkable biodiversity across its cliffs, plains, and seasonal wetlands. Its soaring cliffs offer vital breeding grounds for vultures, including the endangered Rüppell’s Vulture, while Lake Kwenia and the surrounding savannahs support abundant birdlife and wildlife.

Kwenia faces conservation challenges that threaten its fragile ecosystems and globally significant vulture colonies. The most urgent issue is vulture poisoning, which occurs both intentionally as retaliation against predators and unintentionally through poisoned livestock carcasses left in the landscape. Habitat degradation from expanding livestock grazing, agriculture, and settlements is encroaching on grasslands and seasonal wetlands, reducing habitat quality for birds and other wildlife.

Human-wildlife conflict drives these pressures, while climate variability and extended droughts impact seasonal Lake Kwenia, reducing its ability to sustain migratory birds. These threats are intensified by the site’s lack of formal legal protection and limited conservation resources, making the area susceptible to unregulated land-use change.

But the story of Kwenia isn’t one of inevitable decline. Conservation is already taking root through a partnership between Maasai landowners, the Kenya Bird of Prey Trust, and conservation groups. A proposed 12,600-hectare Vulture Sanctuary now protects the cliffs and seasonal lake, with long-term monitoring confirming over 200 breeding Rüppell’s Vultures alongside other species like the Egyptian Vulture.

Community volunteers actively monitor vulture nests and raise awareness about the dangers of poisoning, while landowners have signed a Sanctuary Trust deed to secure the site’s future. These actions blend science and community stewardship, laying a strong foundation for protecting one of East Africa’s last great vulture strongholds.

Without stronger protection, awareness, and coordinated conservation efforts, Kwenia’s ecological and cultural values remain at risk. But with continued community leadership and support, this remarkable landscape can thrive as both a vulture sanctuary and a model for community-led conservation.

The Yellow-billed Storks of Dunga Swamp

Posted on by John Mwacharo

By Hezbone Okoth

If you’ve ever visited Dunga Swamp on the shores of Lake Victoria, you’ve probably noticed them: elegant Yellow-billed Storks stepping carefully through the shallows on their impossibly long legs. With their distinctive yellow beaks and patient demeanour, they’re hard to miss. But there’s much more to these birds than meets the eye.

Walk down to Dunga Beach any morning and you’ll see fishmongers busy preparing their catch for market. Fish scales glint in the early sunlight as they expertly fillet their haul, tossing intestines and other scraps onto the shore. It might look like a messy business, but watch closely and you’ll spot something fascinating happening.

Almost as if on cue, the Yellow-billed Storks arrive. They swoop down with surprising grace, making quick work of the fish scraps. You might think they’re just opportunistic scavengers grabbing an easy meal, and you wouldn’t be wrong. But they’re also doing something remarkable: they’re acting as nature’s cleanup crew.

Without these feathered cleaners, all that organic waste would pile up, rot in the sun and create a pretty unpleasant situation for everyone. Instead, the storks turn potential pollution into their breakfast, keeping the shoreline clean and the surrounding ecosystem healthy. It’s a win-win situation that nobody planned, but everyone benefits from.

Masters of the shallows

But don’t think these storks just sit around waiting for handouts from fishmongers. Spend some time watching them hunt, and you’ll see they’re incredibly skilled predators. They wade through the shallows with their bills slightly parted, like a trap waiting to snap shut on unsuspecting fish, frogs or aquatic insects.

The local fishermen consider their presence good luck. When Yellow-billed Storks are around, it usually means the water is clean and fish are plentiful. “If we see many storks, we know it will be a good day for fishing,” one fisherman told me. It’s a simple observation that speaks to something profound about how the presence of birds indicates healthy ecosystems.

Next time you’re at Dunga Swamp, take a moment to watch these remarkable birds. They remind us that in nature, nothing happens in isolation. The fishermen, the storks, the water, the fish – they’re all part of an intricate web where everyone has a role to play. And sometimes, the most important work happens so quietly you might miss it if you’re not paying attention.

 

Observing the Walls: The Tiny Pest Controllers You Never Knew You Had

Posted on by John Mwacharo

by John Opiyo

If you sit quietly at night, you might hear a faint chirp or see a quick movement across the wall or ceiling. That’s a gecko, one of the most familiar yet least appreciated reptiles sharing our homes. These small lizards, with their soft calls and extraordinary climbing skills, have lived alongside humans for centuries. But beyond their curious presence, geckos play a surprisingly vital role in our daily lives.

I discovered this firsthand when I started paying attention to the tiny sounds that filled my evenings. What began as background noise became a fascinating window into one of nature’s most efficient pest control systems.

Meet the Clinging Night Patrollers

When I began observing more carefully, I watched, fascinated, as a pale gecko barely the size of my thumb suddenly darted forward and caught a mosquito right out of the air. Then another, and another. I realised I was witnessing remarkable hunting efficiency in action.

That gecko was likely a Common House Gecko, one of Kenya’s 47 gecko species. These nocturnal hunters use microscopic hairs on their toes to scale any surface, whilst their soft calls help them communicate with rivals and mates in the darkness. They’re evolutionary masterpieces whose toe pads can support their entire body weight on glass.

As my fascination grew, I started noticing smaller, more colourful lizards active during daylight hours. These daytime geckos patrol the same walls their nocturnal cousins abandon at dawn.

It’s like watching a perfectly coordinated shift change. As the house geckos retreat to their hiding spots, these tiny jewel-like creatures emerge to continue the insect hunt.

This tag-team approach means our homes benefit from round-the-clock pest control. The night shift targets mosquitoes that are most active after dark, whilst the day shift handles flies and other insects that prefer daylight hours.

The Human Health Connection

What I initially saw as charming household companions took on new significance when I learned about their public health impact. Living in Kenya, I was aware of malaria risks and the dengue fever outbreaks that have affected coastal counties in recent years.

When I discovered that my little wall-walkers were actually protecting families from disease-carrying insects, everything clicked. These weren’t just cute neighbours; they were tiny guardians working for our health.

The numbers are compelling. A single gecko can consume up to 50 insects in one day or night, targeting many of the same mosquitoes and flies that spread diseases like malaria or dengue. In Kenya, where malaria remains a leading health concern, this natural pest control service is invaluable.

Becoming a Gecko Champion

I now actively encourage geckos around my house. I’ve learned to identify the different species by their calls and behaviour, and I’ve started participating in citizen science projects that document gecko populations.

I’ve identified at least four different species around my home. Each one has its own hunting territory and preferred prey.

I’ve also become an advocate in my neighbourhood, sharing my knowledge with others who might otherwise view geckos as pests. I tell people: before you chase away that gecko, remember it’s working the night shift to protect your family’s health.

Small Guardians, Big Impact

My gecko journey shows how shifting perspective can transform our connection with urban wildlife. What started as mysterious night sounds evolved into an appreciation for one of the most effective natural pest control methods.

Every evening when I hear those gentle chirps, I smile. I know my tiny security team is clocking in for another night of keeping my family safe. It’s remarkable how the smallest creatures can make the biggest difference.

For families across Kenya, geckos offer the same invisible protection I discovered. By simply welcoming these small guardians and learning to appreciate their round-the-clock service, we gain powerful allies in the fight against vector-borne diseases.

It’s funny how we fear what we don’t understand. That gecko I once considered a nuisance had been working the night shift as my personal pest control specialist all along. Now, when I see one dart across my wall, I don’t reach for a broom; I nod in appreciation. We have an unspoken deal: it handles pest control, I provide the real estate.

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.