13/08/2026
Today is World Elephant Day.
Remember the post from a few weeks ago, when we shared how a big event has us tapped into big feelings, and many arising thoughts, but we didn’t have the words to share about the situation???
Well, we certainly weren’t reserving it for today’s story, though it is of perfect timing for us to do so - on World Elephant Day.
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A few weeks ago, Ambrose sent Namenjeera out to look for a baby goat that had gone missing.
During those weeks, many families were losing young livestock to the temptation of sudden rise in food availability.
The short rains were enough to flourish vegetation and the animals grazed as though knowing their scarcity. They obviously have been surviving in the less than thriving conditions the dry season presents.
It’s not out of negligence that Namenjeera was sent out to look for the missing kid. It’s because, this was the third one in a span of a couple of weeks - a very rare occasion for an alert, attentive and seasoned elder; but natural.
It was also not out of disappointment and anger that Namenjeera was sent out - it was principle and obligation - its instilling responsibility, care and respect.
As Namenjeera meandered across the savanna, following the same tracks of the day before, he paid attention to every sound, sight and movement within his environment.
Suddenly, he encountered a baby elephant.
Namanjura’s first instinct was to hide.
A baby elephant alone is unusual, and his knowledge of elephants told him that a mother, or the matriarch and herd, could very well be close.
Getting between them would be extraordinarily dangerous.
So he waited.
And waited.
There was no mother.
No herd.
No movement suggesting other elephants nearby.
Eventually Namanjura approached cautiously.
And the little elephant stood still. In that moment neither knew what to do, but both were awakened by a survival mechanism that only these kinds of opportunities trigger - a massive trust in one another, a kind of peace and surrender - a plea for help, and deference.
Namenjeera continued looking for the elephants mother as he approached calmly with assurance.
To bear witness to this experience would be seeing history come to life - hearing his recollection of this encounter was like observing his ancestors guide him in real time.
Together, closely, they walked. Namenjeera still in a state of shock, called Ambrose for help.
Even though they were walking together, Namenjeera knew danger was ahead, and guiding a baby elephant in the opposite direction is much harder in the wild!
the land ahead is deeply eroded, dried river channels and places where such a small elephant could easily become trapped or injured.
When Ambrose received the first call, he assumed it was about the missing goat. Perhaps Namanjura had found the kid injured or killed. He drove toward the river where he thought Namanjura would be.
Upon reaching the river Ambrose called Namenjeera and realized Namenjeera had taken a different route the day before.
They shared locations and eventually caught up with each other.
While in route, Ambrose called Loisaba Conservancy and KWS (Kenya Wildlife Services), and they dispatched help immediately.
When Ambrose reached the area he thought Namenjeera was at, he was met by several mamas urgently speaking. In this chaotic conversation - Ambrose thought Namenjeera was being chased by an elephant.
He ran in the direction they pointed him towards, mean while word travelled through out the community and children, women, men, elders - everyone started making their way to the scene.
What the women had actually been trying to tell him was:
Your guy is chasing an elephant.
And when Ambrose finally reached Namenjeera, he discovered the dangerous situation he and the elephant were in. But Namenjeera was governed by a force greater than he and his higher powers and the elephant in this moment were ONE. He was doing everything in his physical power to keep the baby elephant safe in the terrible position he got both of them in.
He wasn’t afraid.
He didn’t see this animal as the one that presents conflict.
He was doing what he as a Samburu person Is called to do. He was protecting him.
By this time, Ambrose had one glance at the situation - not even making it close enough to then and decided to run back to the Warthog for a rope.
By now so many of the community members had arrived. They tied the rope around the elephant, with some pushing him and lifting him out of the eroded ditch.
Just in time, help arrived.
The elephant was exhausted. His physical health indicated he had to have been in distress for a few days to weeks at least. His bones were visible and he appeared lethargic.
He was loaded into the truck and transported to Loisaba Conservancy where he’d spend the night.
The next day he was airlifted to Reteti Elephant Sanctuary, where he is now being cared for and recovering.
But something else happened that day.
An elephant arrived in the middle of a conversation we desperately need to be having.
Because there was a moment when this story could have become another story about human-wildlife conflict.
Instead, it reminded us to ask whether conflict is always the right word.
The Samburu are known as the people of the elephant.
Generations of knowledge have developed through living alongside elephants—not observing them from somewhere outside their habitat, but sharing landscapes, water, seasons, movement and risk with them.
That relationship has never meant elephants are harmless.
Knowledge does not remove danger.
Relationship does not eliminate risk.
But neither does danger automatically mean conflict.
And that distinction matters.
As landscapes change, land becomes fragmented, movement becomes restricted and people and wildlife are increasingly described as competing for the same resources, we have to be extraordinarily careful about the language we use.
Because eventually language becomes policy.
Conflict. Encroachment. Intrusion. Problem animal. At-risk community.
These words can quietly turn a relationship that has existed for generations into a problem requiring someone else to manage it.
And too often, Indigenous communities become separated from the very wildlife with whom their histories, knowledge and identities were formed.
That day, this little elephant reminded us of something important:
We must not allow conservation to teach people to fear a relationship their ancestors taught them how to hold.
We must not confuse coexistence with the absence of difficulty.
Coexistence is the knowledge, restraint, adaptation and responsibility required to remain in relationship through difficulty.
Reteti is doing something extraordinarily important for this elephant right now. He needs specialized care, protection and rehabilitation.
But rescue should not mean severance.
We remain in communication with Reteti because our hope is that when this elephant is ready, his story circles back toward the landscape from which he came.
In having these conversations the night of this event, we realized Namenjeera had to be the one to accompany the elephant.
He want the hero.
He was the people who share their lives with wildlife and they are tied at womb.
With space for discussion, Ambrose moved from “wildlife biologist” to being our voice for the importance of having Namenjeera involved - in as many ways as we could advocate.
The following day, Namenjeera flew the baby elephant to Reteti. It was both their first time in air!
Our advocacy for involvement has since continued; as we establish the rights a community retains to what exists on their land.
If we create separation in situations like this, we miss the opportunity for care to be realized - and they become missed lessons.
As knowledgeable participants in the care, stewardship and future of the animals with whom they share their homeland.
Conservancies have an important role in Kenya’s conservation future.
So do sanctuaries.
So do scientists.
So do governments.
But communities were here before any of those institutions existed.
If we believe conservancies can learn to accommodate elephants, alter practices for elephants, protect corridors for elephants and organize themselves around living with elephants, then we must also believe communities are capable of doing so.
Our community are NOt simply the people living outside the boundary of a protected space, who are pastoralists.
Perhaps one of the most important things we can do for elephants is not only protect elephants.
Perhaps it is to protect the relationships that have allowed people and elephants to live beside one another for generations.
A baby goat went missing.
A baby elephant was found.
And somewhere between the two, we were reminded of the work before us.
On World Elephant Day, may we protect not only the elephant, but the human knowledge, memory and relationships that make coexistence possible, so that we our children can continue to celebrate Wold Elephant Day.
