Campi Ya Kanzi

BY Lisa Lindblad

November 13, 2011

I had the opportunity recently to reconnect with Luca and Antonella Belpietro, the passion behind Campi ya Kanzi, their lovely camp in Hemingway’s green hills of Africa. The camp, located in the Chyulu Hills of southern Kenya, is a community camp, owned by the Maasai of the area, run in concert with them and for their community.  It is a true partnership whose aim is to  sustain the land, the wildlife and a cultural way of life which is, elsewhere in East Africa, under dire threat.

The Maasai have not fared well in modern Africa. Until the European settlers arrived, fierce Maasai tribes occupied the most fertile lands. The Maasai struggled to preserve their territory, but their spears were no match for armed British troops, and their lawyers never had a fair chance in British courtrooms. In 1904, the Maasai signed a first agreement, losing the best of their land to the European settlers. Seven years later, in 1911, a very controversial agreement was signed by a small group of Maasai, where their best Northern land (Laikipia) was given up to white settlers. Surely they did not fully understand what the consequences of such a treaty were, and anyway the signatories did not represent the entire tribe.
With these two treaties, the Maasai lost about two-thirds of their lands and were relocated to less fertile parts of Kenya and Tanzania.

Other tribes of Kenya have adapted more readily to the “progress” of modern times. In contrast, the Maasai have persisted in their traditional ways, so as Kenya takes more land for growing tribes and agriculture, they suffer.
One positive trend for the Maasai in recent years has been the development of a specific form of eco-tourism. Although other tribes in Kenya regard wildlife as food or a menace to their crops, the Maasai have proven to be able to co-exist with wildlife.

But less land for an ever growing Kenyan population means less land for the Maasai, their livestock, and wildlife. More and more, a lion will take a cow or some goats and get killed in retaliation. While in the past the retaliatory killing by poisoning was unheard of, and lions were bravely hunted on foot by warriors simply armed with spears, nowadays poisoning has become a common and very effective method. Carcasses of livestock get poisoned with a chip pesticide, easily available in the market.

Lions are a disappearing species: their numbers plunged from 100,000 ten years ago, to about 14,000 today.
Maasai Wilderness Conservation Trust has pioneered a compensation program, reimbursing livestock killed by lions (and other predators). The program is called Wildlife Pays and it is supported by tourists conservation fees; it employs warriors as lions scout (more lions = more employment).

In the past the Maasai and the wildlife simply lived together, in balance. If this could be re-established, by showing to the Maasai the economic value of the presence of wildlife in their lans, the future of the land, of the wildlife and of the Maasai people will be assured.

array(1) { [0]=> object(WP_Post)#10817 (24) { ["ID"]=> int(8137) ["post_author"]=> string(2) "17" ["post_date"]=> string(19) "2017-02-26 09:46:34" ["post_date_gmt"]=> string(19) "2017-02-26 09:46:34" ["post_content"]=> string(2819) "Carl Jung loved the Africa he knew.  When he visited Kenya and Uganda in 1925 he found, in his inimitable way, deep meaning in what, for someone else, might seem insignificant.  He had a fine eye for detail and, it appears, an outgoing nature which allowed him an intimate access to the Africans he met.  Marveling at the flooding of the world with the rising sun, he felt both a personal ecstasy and the primordial longing for light.  And he was overwhelmed when seeing a Maasai laibon (shaman) performing rituals to balance that principal of light - the rising sun, the good - with that principal of darkness - the night, the evil:  sprinkling milk and spitting in liminal, vulnerable spaces as a gift offering, the milk, a nomad's source of life, the spittle, his personal mana. I read Jung's Memories, Dreams and Reflections during my first long stay on the African plains when we were filming cheetah.  Those 12-hour days camped in our vehicle waiting for good shots (we, too, lived the ecstasy and the dread that day and night brought) were blissful hours for reading, and Jung was on our list.  On our second return to the bush we lived closely with the Maasai, and the rituals Jung described half a century before were still part of our everyday life. Papai, the elder who lived with us and who became a father to me, dispensed a good deal of spittle on my forehead and shoulders and, when I insisted on moving my tent within sight but out of hearing from his own, he sprinkled milk around the perimeter before he would let me move in. Jung records a conversation he had with the laibon in '25.  "In old days," he told Jung, "the laibons had dreams and knew whether there is war or sickness or whether the rain comes and where the herds should be driven."  He meant, Jung says, that since the white man came, no one had dreams anymore.  The laibons' power had vanished.  This comment must have been distressing to Jung for whom dreams were the pathway to the unconscious. I remembered the laibon's lament about not having access to his deepest self shortly before I departed the bush. After dinner Peter, an 18-year-old town Maasai who lived with us in camp, and I would sit around the fire listening to Papai's stories.  Peter, the child of an oral culture, was mesmerized by his storytelling, and, as my stay drew to a close, I would find him hunkered down under a tree with the old man talking in that murmured cadence I had grown so to love.  And then the day before we left Peter had his own lament:  "There are no good stories anymore." Just as dreams were the path back to the laibon's unconscious, so, too, were the stories Peter's roadmap to his and his people's history.  Without them he, too, would lose much of his soul." ["post_title"]=> string(15) "Jung and Africa" ["post_excerpt"]=> string(0) "" ["post_status"]=> string(7) "publish" ["comment_status"]=> string(4) "open" ["ping_status"]=> string(4) "open" ["post_password"]=> string(0) "" ["post_name"]=> string(15) "jung-and-africa" ["to_ping"]=> string(0) "" ["pinged"]=> string(0) "" ["post_modified"]=> string(19) "2017-02-27 18:06:05" ["post_modified_gmt"]=> string(19) "2017-02-27 23:06:05" ["post_content_filtered"]=> string(0) "" ["post_parent"]=> int(0) ["guid"]=> string(31) "" ["menu_order"]=> int(0) ["post_type"]=> string(4) "post" ["post_mime_type"]=> string(0) "" ["comment_count"]=> string(1) "0" ["filter"]=> string(3) "raw" } }

Jung and Africa