A scorching day at Kwamuambi Ranch in Machakos County finds rangers and scouts from the Africa Network for Animal Welfare (ANAW), KWS, Maanzoni Wildlife Estate, and Malinda Ranch on a mission.
Armed with sticks, pliers, cameras, and GPS trackers, they set out to find and remove deadly wire snares hidden in the bush.
“Staying together is essential,” ANAW’s de-snaring manager Isaac Maina briefs the team. Just a day earlier, they had discovered 70 snares scattered across Syombugo farm.
The operation is routine yet urgent. Every snare must be photographed, recorded, and its coordinates logged.
Left undetected, these simple wire loops become silent killers of antelopes, zebras, wildebeest, and buffalo.
Leading the team is Johnson Kitheka, ANAW’s lead de-snaring officer. With 18 years of experience, he has developed an unmatched ability to read the land.
“Since I began this work, I’ve removed over 10,000 snares,” he says. “When I arrived in Machakos in 2008, we collected 700 in one day.”
He has mapped the rhythms of poaching: “Dry season is peak time—August to October are worst. Then it spikes again in December when demand for bush meat rises.”
Data from Sheldrick Wildlife Trust (SWT) supports his observations. In December 2024, joint operations with KWS removed 1,262 snares, made 41 arrests, and seized 100kg of ivory.
The work is far from safe.
“We fear snakes most of all—they’re everywhere in the bush,” Kitheka says. Buffalo are another constant threat, forcing KWS rangers to guide teams around dangerous areas.
Snares vary from delicate loops for birds and hares to heavy-duty versions strong enough to trap elephants. Detecting them requires hours of combing the savannah under scorching heat, looking for broken vegetation or disturbed soil.
ANAW officer Evelyn Wangai describes their cruelty: “The more an animal struggles, the tighter the loop becomes. What starts as a wire becomes a death sentence.” Even if an animal breaks free, the wounds often prove fatal.
Behind the snares is a thriving illegal bush meat market. Kitheka explains: “Bush meat sells for less than beef from domestic cattle, making it attractive to buyers.” Poachers exploit the price difference to undercut legal markets.
The African Wildlife Foundation has warned that this demand poses a threat to endangered species. Beyond economics, the trade also poses health risks. Studies link bush meat consumption to diseases like Ebola and Mpox, while unsustainable hunting disrupts ecosystems.
Kitheka classifies poachers into four groups: subsistence hunters, commercial meat dealers, those using blood-drainage techniques to market meat differently, and international poachers with vehicles and weapons who conduct night raids. “They cut and skin animals on-site for easy transport, then sell the dried meat in markets where buyers rarely know its origin,” he says.
For veterinary interns like Wambui Mugo, the mission is deeply emotional. “The worst cases are animals so badly hurt they can’t even move after we remove the snare,” she says. “They almost seem to appreciate our help.”
Yet the cycle often continues. “We save an animal, it returns to the wild, and sometimes it gets caught again. This trauma disrupts the entire ecosystem.”
Her colleague, education officer Eunice Robai, highlights the human link. “These are animal habitats. When we destroy them with snares, it affects both animals and humans, disrupting economic and natural balance.”
Robai runs Animal Welfare Clubs in schools to teach children why poaching is destructive. “Once I understand where poachers come from, I can target those communities with education,” she explains.
On this day, the team collects 15 snares—nine active and six dead. Each active snare represents a life saved, while the dead ones mark losses already suffered.
Still, there are signs of progress. Kenya has not recorded a rhino poaching case in five years, and the 2021 national wildlife census showed one of the largest rhino populations on the continent.
But challenges remain. The Living Planet Report 2024 shows that global wildlife populations have dropped by 73 per cent. Kenya is responding with initiatives such as the $10.6 million GEF-8 Wildlife Conservation Project, part of the Global Wildlife Programme to combat poaching and trafficking while supporting communities.
For Kitheka and his colleagues, the mission is both dangerous and necessary. “The active snares represent lives saved,” Robai says, “but the dead snares tell a different story.”