Making conscious choices that help protect landscapes and ecosystems
When we talk about Africa, we often talk about the animals. The elephant. The lion. The leopard. The rhino. The gorilla. The cheetah. We talk about the moments we hope to have when we finally arrive. The photograph. The safari. The first time we see an animal in the wild. But wildlife cannot exist without somewhere to live. And that is something I think we sometimes forget.
An elephant needs more than protection from poaching. It needs land to move across, water to drink, vegetation to feed on and space in which to live. A lion needs prey, territory and an ecosystem that can sustain it. A bird needs trees. A river needs to remain healthy. Grasslands, forests, wetlands, deserts and coastlines all form part of a much bigger picture.
Protecting Africa’s wildlife means protecting the places that make wildlife possible.
And that is why responsible travel cannot stop at how we behave around an animal. We also need to think about the footprint we leave on the landscape itself.
One of the things that stayed with me from my conversation with Ivan Carter was his understanding that conservation is not simply about saving individual animals.
After decades of guiding safaris across Africa and seeing first-hand the decline in wildlife numbers and the rapid loss of habitat, Ivan became increasingly focused on the people working on the front line of conservation. His work today is centred on supporting conservationists and the projects protecting wildlife and ecosystems.
That idea is incredibly important.
Because we can rescue an elephant.
We can relocate a rhino.
We can protect a lion.
But if the habitat disappears, what happens next?
Where do they go?
What do they eat?
Where do they breed?
Where do they migrate?
The landscape is not simply the backdrop to Africa’s wildlife.
It is their home.
Ivan’s chapter in I HEART AFRICA PROJECT contributes something very important to this conversation because his experience has taken him beyond simply witnessing Africa’s wildlife.
He has seen what happens when wild places come under pressure. He has seen the consequences of poaching, habitat loss and human pressure. And rather than simply talking about the problems, his response has been to ask a much more useful question:
What can I do to help?
That question sits at the heart of conservation.
Ivan’s Wildlife Conservation Alliance was created around the idea that the people working on the front line need the tools, training, financial support and partnerships to do their jobs effectively. Its work focuses on practical interventions and partnerships with people who know the landscapes and conservation challenges they are dealing with.
I think there is something very powerful in that.
Conservation can sometimes feel enormous. Climate change is enormous. Habitat loss is enormous. Poaching is enormous. Human-wildlife conflict is enormous.
It can leave us wondering what one traveller could possibly do about any of it.
But Ivan’s approach reminds us that conservation is also about people doing practical things in particular places.
And sometimes supporting those people is where we can begin.
I think travellers sometimes arrive in Africa with the idea that we are somehow going to save it.
We aren’t.
Africa doesn’t need us to arrive as saviours.
What it needs is for us to understand that the choices we make can either contribute to the pressures already facing wild places or help support the people working to protect them.
That is a very different way of looking at responsible travel.
It means asking questions.
Where are we staying?
How was the lodge built?
Where does its water come from?
How does it manage waste?
Does it use local people and suppliers?
Does tourism contribute to the protection of the area?
Does the operator support conservation?
Does it work with surrounding communities?
Are we travelling in a way that minimises our impact?
None of these questions requires us to give up the joy of travel.
It simply asks us to travel with our eyes open.
Where you stay can make a difference.
There are some extraordinary lodges and camps across Africa that have been designed around the environment rather than simply placed in it.
When you are choosing accommodation, look beyond the photographs. Ask what the property actually does.
Does it have responsible water management?
How does it deal with waste?
Does it reduce unnecessary energy consumption?
Does it source food locally?
Does it employ people from surrounding communities?
Does it contribute to conservation?
Does it operate within the limits of the environment around it?
There is a growing recognition that tourism can contribute to conservation when it generates revenue that supports the management and protection of protected areas. African Parks, for example, describes sustainable tourism and other conservation-compatible enterprises as ways of generating revenue that flows back into park management and protection.
That is the kind of relationship I want to see.
Tourism shouldn’t simply extract something from a beautiful place.
It should help keep that place beautiful.
There is something about being in an African wilderness that can make you feel very small. You can stand beneath an enormous sky and suddenly realise just how little of the world you occupy. You can sit beside a river and watch animals come to drink. You can walk through grassland and hear birds calling around you. You can wake up in the bush and realise that the landscape was already alive long before you opened your eyes.
I think those moments should make us more respectful. Not less.
The land is not a theme park. It isn’t a photograph. It isn’t a backdrop created for our holiday. It is a functioning ecosystem. And ecosystems are delicate.
Water is one of the easiest things for travellers to take for granted.
We turn on a tap.
We take a shower.
We flush a toilet.
We fill a swimming pool.
We ask for another bottle of water.
And because water comes so easily to us at home, we don’t always think about what it means in places where it is scarce.
Across Africa, rivers, wetlands and groundwater systems are essential not only to wildlife but to human communities.
The Okavango, for example, is one of Africa’s great wilderness systems and an important water source for people and wildlife across the region. Conservation projects in the area emphasise the connection between the health of the wetland ecosystem and the wider landscape.
So when you are travelling, don’t waste water simply because you are on holiday.
Take shorter showers.
Don’t ask for fresh towels every day if you don’t need them.
Don’t leave taps running.
Follow the property’s guidance.
It sounds insignificant.
But responsible travel is often about recognising that thousands of small choices become significant when millions of people make them.
This should be one of the simplest rules of travelling anywhere.
Don’t leave rubbish behind.
Don’t take things from protected areas.
Don’t pick plants or flowers.
Don’t damage trees.
Stay on designated paths and roads where required.
Don’t carve your name into anything.
And don’t assume that something natural is automatically okay to take home.
That beautiful shell, feather, plant or piece of rock may be part of an ecosystem you don’t fully understand.
Leave it there.
The best souvenir is the memory.
Plastic is one of those things that can seem almost invisible when we are travelling. A bottle here. A packet there. A takeaway container. A plastic bag. A straw. And suddenly there is a pile of waste created simply because we were away from home.
Where you can, carry a reusable water bottle.
Use refill stations.
Avoid unnecessary single-use plastic.
Say no to things you don’t need.
And use accommodation and operators that are actively trying to reduce waste.
You don’t have to travel perfectly. I certainly don’t believe in that. But if something is an easy choice, why not make it?
This is particularly important in wildlife areas. The temptation can be enormous. You see something in the distance. You want to get closer. The road doesn’t quite take you where you want to go. And suddenly someone suggests driving off-road. But roads and designated tracks exist for a reason. Repeatedly driving across vegetation can damage habitats, disturb animals and contribute to erosion. And once one vehicle does it, others follow.
The same principle applies to walking where you shouldn’t or entering restricted areas.
A wilderness area doesn’t become less special because you can’t access every corner of it. Sometimes the boundary is there precisely because the land needs protection from us.
Responsible travel isn’t only about the big environmental questions. It is also about the little things.
Follow fire regulations.
Don’t leave food waste where animals can access it.
Don’t feed wildlife.
Dispose of rubbish properly.
Don’t pollute rivers or waterways.
Use biodegradable or environmentally appropriate products where recommended.
Respect restrictions around campfires and cooking.
Don’t assume that because something is biodegradable, it belongs in the bush. A banana peel thrown from a vehicle might seem harmless. But it isn’t necessarily part of that ecosystem. And once you start thinking about the landscape rather than simply your own experience, these things become obvious.
This is where Ivan Carter’s story becomes especially relevant. His work is built around supporting people who are already doing the difficult work of conservation.
The Ivan Carter Wildlife Conservation Alliance describes itself as a donor-funded organisation that works through partnerships with people on the front line, supporting practical conservation actions such as wildlife translocations, research collaring, rhino dehorning, rescues and human-wildlife conflict mitigation.
I like this approach because it recognises something important:
The people closest to the problem are often the people who understand the solution.
As travellers, we don’t necessarily need to create our own conservation project. We can support organisations that already have expertise. We can pay conservation fees. We can choose tourism operators that contribute to conservation. We can donate. We can share the work of organisations doing good things. We can learn. And we can talk about conservation when we return home.
When we imagine conservation, perhaps we picture a ranger standing in the bush with a rifle. And yes, anti-poaching work is an important part of conservation in many places. But conservation can look like many things.
It can be a wildlife researcher fitting a tracking collar.
A veterinarian treating an injured animal.
A community developing ways to reduce human-wildlife conflict.
A ranger monitoring a protected area.
A farmer learning how to coexist with elephants.
A scientist studying a wetland.
A guide teaching visitors about ecosystems.
A local person finding employment because tourism has created a reason for the landscape to remain protected.
A conservation organisation helping restore habitat.
A traveller choosing to support all of the above.
It is a much bigger story than simply protecting animals from poachers.
This is something I wrote about in the previous article on supporting local communities, but it belongs here too.
You cannot separate conservation from people.
Across Africa, communities live alongside wildlife and depend upon land and natural resources. If conservation excludes the people living around protected areas, it can create resentment rather than support. That is why community involvement matters so much.
Andrew Danckwerts spoke about this in his chapter in I HEART AFRICA PROJECT. For him, conservation encompassed wildlife, people and entire ecosystems. He saw local communities as a major part of maintaining a balanced ecosystem and believed that without their involvement and support, conservation approaches would struggle over the long term.
That idea connects beautifully with Ivan’s work.
Conservation isn’t simply something done to Africa. It needs to be something people living in these landscapes can participate in, benefit from and believe in.
You don’t have to spend six weeks in the bush monitoring wildlife.
You don’t have to become a ranger.
You don’t have to understand every conservation policy in Africa.
You can simply become a more conscious traveller.
Choose a responsible safari operator.
Stay somewhere that takes environmental management seriously.
Use local guides.
Pay conservation fees.
Support legitimate conservation organisations.
Buy locally.
Reduce your waste.
Respect water.
Follow the rules.
Don’t disturb wildlife.
Don’t ask for shortcuts.
And don’t be afraid to ask where your money goes.
That last one is particularly important.
Your tourism spending is a vote.
Every booking tells an operator that you support what they are doing. Choose wisely.
I think sometimes travellers worry that asking questions makes them difficult. It doesn’t. If conservation matters to you, ask.
What does this safari contribute to conservation?
Does the lodge employ local people?
How does the property manage water?
What happens to the waste?
Does the operator support a particular conservation project?
How are wildlife encounters managed?
What happens to the money from conservation fees?
Who benefits?
A responsible operator should be able to answer these questions. And if they can’t, that tells you something too. You don’t have to make accusations. You simply have to make informed choices.
There is a line of thinking in Ivan’s work that I find particularly powerful.
He has spent decades seeing the decline of wildlife and habitat, but he hasn’t allowed that knowledge to turn into hopelessness. Instead, he talks about the people doing extraordinary things to protect Africa and the importance of giving them the support they need. His conservation work is deliberately focused on finding and backing practical solutions and the people behind them.
I think we need more of that attitude. Because conservation stories can sometimes make us feel helpless. We hear about disappearing habitat. We hear about poaching. We hear about species decline. We hear about climate change. And it is easy to think: What can I possibly do?
But hopelessness doesn’t protect anything.
Action does.
Even small action.
There is a reason we travel to Africa. It is because there are still places where the world feels bigger than we are. Places where wildlife can move across enormous landscapes. Places where rivers still shape ecosystems. Places where the night is genuinely dark. Places where you can sit quietly and hear the natural world around you. Those places are precious. And they are not guaranteed to remain that way.
Africa’s wild places face pressures including habitat loss, human-wildlife conflict, illegal wildlife trade, poaching, climate change and expanding agriculture. Conservation organisations working across the continent increasingly emphasise that protecting ecosystems requires partnerships between governments, local communities, conservation organisations and others who depend upon these landscapes.
So when you travel, remember that you are not simply visiting a destination.
You are entering an ecosystem.
Your accommodation is part of it.
Your vehicle is part of it.
Your food is part of it.
Your waste is part of it.
Your money is part of it.
Your behaviour is part of it.
You are part of the footprint you leave behind.
We can start simply.
Choose accommodation that demonstrates genuine environmental responsibility.
Use local operators and guides who understand and respect the landscape.
Reduce unnecessary water and energy use.
Avoid single-use plastic where practical.
Take your rubbish with you.
Stay on designated roads and paths.
Never remove plants, rocks, shells or other natural materials from protected areas.
Don’t feed wildlife.
Respect fire restrictions.
Support conservation organisations doing credible work.
Pay park and conservation fees.
Choose experiences that benefit local communities.
Ask where your tourism money goes.
And perhaps most importantly, care enough to notice.
Notice the river.
Notice the trees.
Notice the grass.
Notice the birds.
Notice what is happening beyond the animals everyone has come to photograph.
Because once you start seeing Africa as an ecosystem rather than a collection of attractions, you begin to understand why every part matters.
When I think about responsible travel, I don’t think it means leaving no footprint at all. That is almost impossible. We have travelled there. We have flown there. We have driven there. We have eaten there. We have stayed there. Of course we have an impact. The question is what kind of impact we choose to have.
Can our money support conservation?
Can our visit support communities?
Can our choices reduce unnecessary damage?
Can we learn something and take that knowledge home?
Can we leave a landscape no worse than we found it?
Perhaps even better, can our presence contribute in some small way to keeping it protected?
That is the kind of travel I believe in.
Not perfect travel.
Conscious travel.
I keep thinking about the people whose stories became part of I HEART AFRICA PROJECT.
People like Ivan, who has spent decades witnessing the realities of conservation.
People like Andrew, who grew up in the wild and understands how deeply wildlife, people and ecosystems are connected.
People who have chosen, in different ways, to dedicate their lives to Africa.
Their stories remind me that conservation isn’t an abstract idea. It is personal. It is someone’s job. Someone’s passion. Someone’s community. Someone’s home. And ultimately, it is all of our responsibility. Because we don’t inherit these wild places simply for ourselves. We are borrowing them from the generations who come after us.
And I would love for the person travelling to Africa twenty years from now to have the same feeling I have when I think about it today.
That feeling of being somewhere vast. Somewhere wild. Somewhere that still belongs to nature. Somewhere that can make you stop and realise just how extraordinary this planet really is.
That is what we should be protecting.
Not just the elephant. Not just the lion. Not just the photograph.
The whole place.
The river. The forest. The grassland. The desert. The wetland. The coastline. The animals. The people. The communities. The ecosystems.
Africa.
And perhaps our responsibility as travellers is simply this:
Experience it.
Respect it.
Support the people protecting it.
Tread lightly.
And when we leave, do everything we can to make sure the wild places we fell in love with are still wild enough for someone else to fall in love with them too.