Lauren E. Caister, an American who studied the Niger giraffes for two years in the late '90s as a Peace Corps volunteer, says "if the giraffe herd increases, and they run into more encounters with farmers, I think it will lead to more poaching."
Poaching and conflicts with farmers still pose a threat to the herd. Giraffes on the rebound in W. Africa
By John Donnelly
BOSTON GLOBE
SOURGOUROU, Niger - Perched among the top branches of an acacia tree, Hassan Abdoulaye scanned the horizon for the tallest animal on earth. But spotting members of the last wild giraffe herd in West Africa is never easy. They blend in well.
Abdoulaye, 48, a giraffe guide on the scrubby plains in the semi-arid Sahel, an area dense with tiger bush, was persistent. He climbed tree after tree, expertly scrambling barefoot up the branches. His blue uniform darkened with patches of sweat from the late-morning sun. Atop his sixth tree, he called out, "I have seen them."
This last herd of giraffes in West Africa seems to be thriving, perhaps numbering as many as 176, up from about 100 four years ago. The rapid breeding is good news for a herd that was decimated in the 1970s - it once numbered in the thousands - and then lost 30 more members in 1996 to the careless drugging and transporting of animals that resulted from the decision by Niger's president to give a giraffe or two as a present to Nigeria's leader.
But the herd's recent rebound, cheered by many, also poses a new kind of danger for the giraffes.
Several observers worry that the giraffes will stumble into conflicts with farmers, increasing the risk of poaching. Giraffes already are showing a love of mango leaves and beans, two of the biggest cash crops on the edge of the Sahara Desert.
After spotting the giraffes, Abdoulaye guided a driver through the bush, zigzagging around the stunted trees in the sandy soil, until he reached a clearing. There, camouflaged by their coat patterns, stood a mother giraffe, her baby, and a pregnant female.
"Marvelous," Abdoulaye said, wiping his brow as the three giraffes, undisturbed by their visitors, continued feasting on leaves from a thorny bush.
The giraffe-human struggle is a story repeated around Africa in an era of shrinking reserves for wild animals: The conflict pits farmers wanting to protect their livestock and crops, environmentalists who try to preserve ecosystems, and animals, which to survive must in many cases venture farther afield to find food.
The efforts to save animals and protect farmers and ecosystems are varied. In South Africa, officials are examining whether to cull herds of elephants, which are thought to cause widespread damage to ancient baobabs and other trees. In Namibia, farmers who do not trap or shoot cheetahs - most of the population of 3,000 live outside reserves on farmlands - have been given a "Cheetah Country Beef" label for their exported livestock, which sells at a premium price in Europe.
For the giraffes of Niger - a landlocked nation and one of the poorest countries in the world - no new strategies have emerged to ensure their long-term well-being. About a decade ago, the government, hoping to save the herd and turn them into a tourist attraction, passed a law making it illegal to poach the animals, and so far the law has worked well.
But according to Lauren E. Caister, an American who studied the Niger giraffes for two years in the late '90s as a Peace Corps volunteer, "if the giraffe herd increases, and they run into more encounters with farmers, I think it will lead to more poaching."
Caister, 30, thinks Niger eventually may need to cull the herd to limit the conflicts with farmers and preserve the giraffes' breeding patterns. But she said farmers also could protect their mango trees and bean crops with a simple intervention - digging ditches around the trees and fields. Giraffes avoid steep slopes or fast currents in waterways because a fall could break their necks.
In the 1960s and '70s, West Africa's giraffe herds numbered more than 3,000, and their range covered an area from Mali to Niger to Nigeria. But desertification, deforestation, and poaching dwindled their numbers to less than 100 by about 1990, forcing them to migrate to an area around Koure and the Dallol Bosso, an ancient riverbed about 50 miles east of Niamey, Niger's capital.
Outside the village of Sourgourou, population 200, two women hid in fields of millet one day recently, waiting for the three giraffes to leave so that they could harvest the grain.
"We are afraid of them," said Biba Issifi, 35, in the local Zarma language, as she crouched among the stalks. "They will run after us; they could hurt us. We believe they are angry animals, and they are not so used to humans."
The giraffes migrated here in the 1980s, and Issifi said the villagers considered them foreign to their lands.
Abdoulaye, who has been a guide for six years, left the two female villagers and walked near the three giraffes. He watched them for several minutes as the baby giraffe nursed. Its mother eyed the visitors closely.
"They won't hurt anyone as long as you don't get too close," he said. "I'm from this area, and now the giraffes are in our area. I hope we will all learn to welcome them."
