Preserving Culture Through Conservation: Learning from Elders to Protect Wildlife and Language
In the Nyekwere Forest, conservation is about more than safeguarding species; it’s about preserving stories, traditions, and a way of life. Wildlife conservation and cultural heritage go hand in hand. This connection is why Naomi and Julius have been leading conversations with Maasai elders— to learn the names, stories, and cultural significance of animals captured on our camera traps.
Seeking traditional names and insights from elders does more than deepen our understanding of local biodiversity—it helps safeguard the Maa language and its profound ties to the land.
Elders as Custodians of Knowledge
The elders of Nyekwere, like Longishu Maitete and Wilson Selelo, are living repositories of knowledge. They’ve seen the forest transform over decades—from a lush, wildlife-rich expanse to a fragmented landscape of fences and farms. They recall a time when pangolins, elephants, and aardvarks roamed freely, and the names of animals were passed down with pride, carrying stories that connected families to their land.
Today, that connection is fraying. Young people spend more time in schools than around fires, and the forest, now quieter and thinner, offers fewer chances to learn about its inhabitants firsthand. Rare animals like the pangolin (Entaboi) or the aardvark (Naishiri Dama) are disappearing from sight—and from memory.
But Naomi and Julius saw an opportunity: these elders, the last generation to live in harmony with a thriving ecosystem, could reignite the spark of cultural knowledge. By inviting them to identify the wildlife captured on camera traps, they’re not just compiling a list of names—they’re preserving a language, a legacy, and a way forward.
Stories That Inspire Action
Every name shared by the elders reveals a story, and each story is a call to action. Conservation isn’t just about saving animals; it’s about ensuring these narratives don’t disappear. For example:
Entaboi (Pangolin): A creature of great luck and taboo, pangolins were never hunted in Maasai culture. Their scales, believed to hold medicinal power, were only used if found naturally. This respect is a tradition worth protecting alongside the species itself.
Naishiri Dama (Aardvark): Known as the “contractor,” the aardvark digs burrows that become homes for countless species. Elders laugh at the nickname, but it underscores a truth: ecosystems thrive on collaboration.
Oltome (Elephant): Dubbed the wise ones, elephants guide humans toward medicinal plants and embody the interconnectedness of nature. Their migration routes, blocked by fences, are a sobering reminder of what’s at stake.
These stories are powerful because they’re practical. They remind us that wildlife and people share the same world, and conserving one means sustaining the other.
Each shared name becomes a thread, weaving generations together and preserving a legacy of connection, culture, and conservation. Building a bridge between generations, one story, and one name at a time.
“I think that’s also something lovely for that type of information where someone can say this is, you know, this is a blue diker in our language. We call it this.”
The Bigger Picture: Why This Matters
Why focus on something as seemingly small as the Maa names of animals? Because these names hold the keys to deeper connections between people, their land, and conservation. When young people learn that the dik-dik (Erongo) always returns to the same latrine or that the zebra (Oloitiko) offers a nighttime warning against predators, they start to see themselves as stewards of their environment.
By listening to the elders and amplifying their voices, Naomi and Julius are creating a ripple effect. They’re not just ensuring pangolins have a future—they’re proving that conservation rooted in cultural respect is stronger, more resilient, and more inclusive.
Julius gathering Maa species names with Elders Longishu Maitete– Born in Nyekwere, Olkirreruki Village, Wilson Selelo, Talami Village, Ole Tumpesia- Born in Nyekwere, Olkirreruki Village
What’s Next: Turning Stories into Strategy
The next step is clear: scaling up. Naomi and Julius plan to host larger gatherings, projecting camera trap footage and inviting elders to share their wisdom with youth, women, and other community members. It’s not just about preserving knowledge—it’s about inspiring ownership and action.
Imagine the impact of a child learning that the elusive blue duiker (Erongo Entim) flicks its white tail as it moves through the forest or that the klipspringer (Enkine Osoito) thrives only on the rocky edges of the escarpment. These connections deepen appreciation for wildlife while breathing life into the Maa language.
But this vision needs more than curiosity —it needs support. The Pangolin Project’s brand of conservation doesn’t happen in isolation. It thrives on partnerships, transparency, and a shared commitment to doing the hard, hopeful work.
Join the Mission
This is where you come in. By supporting efforts like these, you’re not just helping pangolins—you’re sustaining a culture, a language, and a way of life. You’re ensuring that elders like Longishu Maitete and Wilson Selelo can pass down their stories. And you’re proving that conservation, when done with respect and determination, can create a future where ecosystems—and communities—thrive.
Are you ready to take action? Together, we can protect pangolins, preserve traditions, and make a lasting impact. Why not join our Burrow Cam Club where you can watch and learn about the wildlife wonders of Nyekweri