If it weren’t for us

Who are the people whose lives are most entwined with nature? Who are those most at risk from the effects of climate change? 

Very often, it’s women. That’s why women’s role in protecting nature is so crucial. 

Portrait photographer Petra Kleis captured these powerful images of women in Kenya, all of whom are involved with conservation, climate resilience and sustainable development initiatives created and supported by WWF (the World Wide Fund for Nature) and the Danish International Development Agency. 

These projects are guided by the belief that, for conservation to succeed, women must be at the heart of it.

Lucy Wangari, 34
Rhino ranger, Ol Pejeta Conservancy

In 2014, I saw an advertisement requesting rangers. They hired 24 people and I was one of three ladies. I was deployed at Mutara, then seven years later I was transferred to Ol Pejeta, where I started monitoring rhinos, and later was promoted to corporal.

All the others in my sector are men. Most of the women here believe that some work is just meant for men. I don’t think so.

When monitoring rhinos, you have to make sure that they are safe from poaching, they have good access to food and water, and their overall health condition is okay. I walk 15 kilometers (9 miles) a day, minimum. The big challenge is changes in weather. When the grass is dry, the rhinos have to go for green bushes, so they are really hard to find. Also when the mothers are giving birth, they hide. So you keep wondering, are the calves okay? Is the mother okay? It’s really hide-and-seek at a very high level. 

Once I spotted a rhino and I was trying to check whether it had a baby. I heard a noise and when I looked I saw a mother coming after me. It was 10 meters (30 feet) away and I was alone. But I saw an aardvark burrow next to me, so I went in there. I started screaming like a hyena to scare the mother away. 

Even if I’m alone I never get scared, because I’m used to that place. I know where the animals like hiding. They’re my friends. 

I’d like to train more women. I can tell them that if they believe in themselves, they can do better than men. 

I believe maybe in the next 10 years I will be one of the famous conservationists from Laikipia – educating other women and creating awareness.

Rachael Nyawa, 68
Dairy farmer, Gede

People believe grass just grows on its own. But now they are learning that it can be done in a very professional way. And [when you grow grass professionally] you are improving the health standards of your community because the milk is better. 

I’m a retired civil servant, and now a farmer. We were trained together by WWF, 15 of us from this area, and we were given [Maasai love grass and African foxtail] seeds. Before I used to get another type called napier grass, but these new ones have persisted even during the drought. It is doing so well, you can cut it every three weeks. Of all of us in the group who were trained, I planted the biggest plot. 

If you don’t have grass, it’s difficult, because most of the time, instead of going to cut the grass, you are going to look for grass elsewhere. I have to wake up very early to make sure the milking is done well. When there’s a lot of work, I wake up at four. After that I go back to the house, make breakfast, clean and all those things. 

When I’m satisfied that this place is established, when it’s all green, then I’ll increase the acreage. I want my cows to be producing 50 liters of milk per day. Then I’ll be really happy. I’ll improve my own standard of living. 

I’ve not yet started selling [seeds or hay] because this drought could extend maybe up to April. We normally receive rains here in April but due to climate change, it can go up to May. I’m reserving it, just to be sure that I’ll have enough. I want to be the biggest producer of hay in Kilifi County, and even seeds. 

If you are determined, you can do it, even if you are a woman. Everything is possible.

Rosalia Neema Kahindi, 28
Turtle rescuer, Mida Creek

I was eight years old when I first came to the beach.

As a kid, we were not allowed to go. I think it’s a belief that most of us have around here, associated with devils and all that – some people go [to the beach] and never come back. So when I joined my primary school, it was an opportunity for me – we made small kites and went to the beach to fly them. It was amazing. 

[Before joining Bahari Hai] I volunteered in a rehabilitation center. I was around sick turtles almost every day. I’ve been in turtle conservation ever since. [We deal with] net entanglements, propeller injuries, barnacles, tumors… 

At Bahari Hai, we are two women in the anti-poaching team. What we are also trying to do is education and awareness [about] how important the turtle is. It’s really sad, not only seeing a turtle dying, but even if you see the shells, because that specific turtle probably wasn’t far from laying eggs. 

There’s something about these creatures, they’re kind of magical, prehistoric. When you hear stories from the past, they used to see a lot of turtles. But now, my siblings, they’ve only seen a turtle in the rehab clinic, never one totally in nature. What will happen to the next generation? 

I count myself lucky to be working in this field. It has really changed my family too – now they view nature or the beach from a different perspective. 

If every kid around here gets the opportunity to see this, maybe that will change beliefs in the community, and maybe make the marine environment a better place for the turtles.

Christine Sajin Bayas, 27
Mangrove nursery caretaker, Mida Creek

I’ve lived all my life close to the mangroves. There used to be a lot more, but growing up, I saw them dwindling. I realized some of my favorite birds were no longer around, and there were wild animals around here I would no longer see. 

[After my parents died] I became one of the breadwinners. At 13, I dropped out of school and my main work was fetching firewood from the mangrove forest to sell. One day when I was 15, I was caught by the Kenya Forest Service. They didn’t punish me but I changed my source of income to fetching water for people and I became one of the scouts of the forest. I still do that on a voluntary basis. 

In 2018, we started a [savings and loan] group here. We set up a tree nursery and we’ve had help from WWF to grow it. One of the biggest challenges is, each mangrove species depends on different soil complements to thrive. For example, ceriops depends on mud. So you have to go deep into the mangrove forest to look for mud and come back to make the seedling. After 11 in the morning, I come here and spend my whole day filling bags [with mud]. After three months, the seedlings are ready to be planted. We’ve sold 10,000 plants from the mangrove nursery. 

I can really see the results of my efforts. There was a path that was bare that’s now quite grown, thanks to my work. And I see more butterflies. It makes me feel really good growing mangroves, and it makes me an education pillar in the community. People ask questions and I’m always ready to share my knowledge.

Emilly Katana, 52
Beekeeper, Mida Creek

I’ve been passionate about beekeeping for a few years. It came from the love of honey and its importance. I learned its medicinal value, that it was good for the skin, and I realized I could boil the wax residue and create candles to sell. 

The hardest part of the process is when you go in the night to harvest honey. We have to harvest at around seven to nine o’clock in the evening, because that’s when the bees go home and they’re calmer. On the first day I was terrified as I was approaching the hive, but I still managed. I’ve been stung lots of times. One day I got stung five times. 

To create an enabling environment for bees, first you have to plant trees that flower close by, so that the bees don’t have to go a long distance to look for food. I grow maize often and the husband of the maize is the bee. When it comes for nectar it lands on the maize crop that’s flowering, then goes to another that isn’t flowering and that’s when the pollination happens, and the maize stock that wasn’t going to produce anything will be able to flower, and you’ll have maize. So it helps you increase the percentage of your harvest. 

When there’s a drought, we don’t have bees and even if I water the plants, they don’t flower because the bees aren’t there. They move to where there is water – they might find an old tree and live inside it until the drought is over. 

There’s a high demand for mangrove honey. The taste is excellent because it’s salty. When the harvest is good, one beehive can give you 12 liters (3 gallons). I use the money for school fees and food.