Living with Lions: The Delicate Balance of Human-Wildlife Coexistence in Nairobi

Living Alongside Lions: Human-Wildlife Collision Is Dazzling And Dangerous

"Just over 2,000" lions remain in Kenya, according to the Kenya Wildlife Service.

Kajiado, Kenya:

This year, a 14-year-old girl named Peace Mwende was killed by a lion less than a kilometer from my home. The news deeply affected me as she was the same age as my youngest daughter, and the responsible lioness may have been one of the animals we regularly see in our neighborhood.

Our children are growing up in a part of Nairobi where lions roam freely. We encounter them during school runs. We've suffered the loss of pets and livestock. Local WhatsApp groups circulate warnings when predators approach and share CCTV footage of lions hunting family pets.

This presents a significant conservation challenge for the Kenya Wildlife Service (KWS), which must balance human safety with wildlife protection, especially endangered species. According to KWS estimates, only "just over 2,000" lions remain in Kenya.

"During the rainy season, tall grass and shifting herbivore patterns make it difficult for carnivores to hunt," KWS explained in a July social media post showing a Nairobi lion cub rescue. The starving cub had sparked public concern. KWS noted they were "conducting a feeding intervention, providing meat daily to the pride residing in the park to help them regain their strength and resume natural hunting."

Nairobi National Park, which borders the city's northern edge, has historically depended on vast southern grazing lands for wildlife migration to other protected areas. As these lands rapidly transform into residential and industrial developments, Kenya's State Department for Wildlife has announced a nearly $5 billion plan to establish a migratory corridor connecting Nairobi with southern conservancies. Additionally, non-governmental initiatives offer landowners bordering Nairobi National Park small annual payments to keep their properties unfenced for wildlife.

But will these measures suffice?

What's lacking is greater awareness about appropriate behavior around predators, particularly among increasingly urban populations who encounter them.

My children never received this education at school. Their most significant lion encounter occurred in 2020 when we took advantage of reduced post-COVID bookings to visit the Maasai Mara National Reserve. A highly knowledgeable local guide led us through the southern reserve in an open safari vehicle surrounded by migrating wildebeest.

During one excursion, our guide stopped for three hunting lionesses crossing our path. The first walked past, ignoring us. The second, instead of passing behind the vehicle, was distracted by the glint of a seatbelt buckle my daughter was fidgeting with. The lioness paused, stared, then approached us. Stretching up toward my child, she sniffed the buckle before taking it between her teeth. My daughter remained motionless, approximately ten inches from the lioness's head, which suddenly appeared enormously large.

"Keep still," our guide whispered. "Don't move. Don't make a sound."

After satisfying her curiosity, the lioness ducked under the vehicle and continued on.

That day, we gained valuable knowledge about predator behavior during a holiday experience few Kenyans can afford. This lesson potentially saved my wife's life during a recent lioness encounter in our garden. While investigating what had caused our dog to bark, she spotted a lioness under a bush less than 10 yards away, only its head visible.

"No sudden movements," she reminded herself, recalling our guide's advice. "Don't make a sound." She slowly and silently backed toward the house until she was close enough to the front door to safely run inside and alert us.

I've reported on conflicts in Iraq, Afghanistan, Sierra Leone, Gaza, and Syria, receiving extensive hostile environment training for personal safety. I deliberately chose to make my home in nature.

Yet here, I find myself on a different kind of frontline.

In December 2019, Simon Kipkirui visited Tuala, a small settlement across the river from us. Despite friends' warnings, he decided to walk home at night. He never arrived. Simon lived in our compound, having helped build our house and plant many trees that now form the indigenous forest surrounding our home.

I contacted his brother, and a search party followed his likely route. Nothing was found. Two days later, his brother Daniel Rono discovered a bag of maize flour in a wilderness area between our home and Tuala. Upon closer inspection, he made a horrific discovery.

"I reached for the maize flour and saw Simon's head. It was separated from his body. I reached for the head and saw a hand, then a leg inside a gumboot," Daniel recalls. Horrified, he called me. As we began the grim task of locating Simon's remains, we were driven back by a warning growl from a male lion still guarding the kill.

By then, Simon had been missing for 2.5 days. Whether the lion we encountered was responsible for his death remains unknown. Lions that kill humans – known as man-eaters – are typically shot to prevent future attacks. KWS claims to have shot the lioness that killed Peace Mwende on the night of that attack.

While human-wildlife conflict has existed throughout human history, predator attacks will likely increase as the habitat for Kenya's lions shrinks and their hunting opportunities diminish. This spells potential disaster for Nairobi's world-famous national park, which some already propose converting into housing developments.

I mourn Simon as I do friends and colleagues who died on assignment in Sierra Leone and Afghanistan. Yet every lion sighting still fills me with joy and wonder, despite the horrors of that day in 2019. I hope solutions emerge to protect both human and lion populations, preserving this remarkable wilderness that makes Nairobi such a unique capital city for the enjoyment and wonder of many future generations.