As the sun rises in Zakouma National Park, Nicolai Taloua loads his Kalashnikov with familiar ease. At his feet sit two metal ammunition boxes packed with bullets. Others around him are busy mounting a machine gun on to the roof of their car.
For Nicolai this is a perfectly normal start to his working day, all part and parcel of the ongoing war between park rangers and elephant poachers. “It’s a dangerous life, but one we’ve accepted,” says Nicolai. “We’ve chosen this fight and will continue to the end.”
That fight has already claimed the lives of several park rangers, as well as many poachers. The effect on Zakouma’s elephant population is also notable: more than 200 have been killed in the past year, many gunned down in large groups by poachers who attack on horse and camelback.
“The real problem is how many weapons there are in this region, especially since the Darfur crisis began,” explains Nicolai, who is head of Zakouma’s anti-poaching team. “People say it’s Sudanese who come to poach, but we’ve never caught a Sudanese. It’s Arab nomads — Chadians.”
The reason for the recent upsurge in elephant killings is that certain African countries have on occasion been allowed to legally sell ivory. Chad enforces the ivory ban, but as long as an ivory trade exists, demand ÂÂcontinues.
“A few years ago the ivory trade was banned and poaching decreased,” says Luis Arranz, a Spaniard who has been running Zakouma for the past six years. “But recently some African countries struck a deal to export ivory to Japan and since then we’ve seen an increase in poaching.
Although there are only about 3 500 elephants in the park — nowhere near the population of other countries such as Botswana or South Africa — the key lies in their concentration.
When the annual rains approach in May and June, the elephants leave the park en masse to avoid the muddy terrain, and it’s not unusual to see herds of up to 1 000 elephants at a time.
“Zakouma is a little bit special,” explains Arranz, who says he feels an intimate connection with the elephants he’s charged with protecting. “We have a photograph with 1 039 elephants all together; this is simply not possible in other places.”
Zakouma is also unusual in other ways. Compared to parks such as Kruger, where paved roads and hoards of tourists can dampen that “get away from it all” feel, Zakouma is practically virgin territory.
It is not unusual to be one of just two or three tourists in the entire park, with 3 000km2 of truly wild territory all to yourself.
“For me it’s much more diverse,” Arranz says. “If you see a lioness with her cubs, you’ll never see her surrounded by dozens of cars. The animals are much more wild, and the people in the villages here never pester visitors for money.”
When Zakouma was created in 1963, nine villages fell inside the park’s boundaries and all but one were forced to uproot and move outside.
This created tensions, especially as villagers could no longer enter the park to hunt or search for honey.
But the European Union, which began funding a restoration programme in the park eight years ago, is trying its best to keep villagers onside.
As well as building wells and health centres in the area, EU cash is being used to take villagers on safari trips into the park, where they become bona fide “tourists” for the day.
“It really helps for villagers to see the wildlife,” says Bachir, a guide leading the tour. “Sometimes they are ignorant about the park. But now they are developing a conscience about the animals and are learning what the park can do for them.”
Arranz says the project also helps break down misconceptions. “Locals always had this idea that the park was built by whites, for whites,” he says. “But one day we will all leave and this park will be theirs to look after, and that’s what we want to show.”
Arranz says villagers are increasingly accepting the park, so much so that locals tip off his anti-poaching team when outsiders are in the area. But often the information comes too late.
“Maybe people don’t know how many animals’ lives this ivory cost, or how many people died as well,” says Arranz. “Really, it’s a war. And people who buy ivory are causing this war.”