This blog was originally published on the Conservation Careers website, which can be found here.

Conservation Careers writer, Marie Conroy, interviews CLP alumna Minh Nguyen to uncover why she’s committed her education and career to saving the Critically Endangered “barking deer” of Vietnam and Laos.

It may seem strange that an animal only discovered by science in the late 1990s is now listed as Critically Endangered. But this is the case for the large-antlered muntjac, a rare deer species only found in the dense rainforests of the Annamite mountains of Vietnam and Laos.

Bizarrely, the species was only discovered when they were found as trophies in the homes of local people. Today, the animal is under severe threat from unsustainable poaching and without action, faces extinction.

The threat is so severe that Minh Nguyen has moved from her home country of Vietnam to undertake a PhD at the University of Colorado, USA. Her ambition is to help save the endangered animal and other ground-dwelling animals that fall prey to the intensive poaching.

Introducing Minh Nguyen

CLP alumna Minh Nguyen grew up in Quangnam province in the centre of Vietnam before her family moved to Ho Chi Minh City. While living in Ho Chi Minh City – the largest city in Vietnam – she never forgot the natural beauty of where she grew up next to the Annamite mountains. It was in these mountains she first became interested in the natural world and spent hours in the local fields, wetlands and woods watching wildlife.

Initially, a career in conservation wasn’t something Minh pursued, mainly because she was not aware it existed as a career. And, as a young woman, she was encouraged to study banking or medicine. But instead, she chose to study biotechnology because she felt it would have some biology elements to it, and in that way, she could get closer to her favourite topic – studying animals.

In Vietnam, your career chooses you!

One day an announcement from the biology faculty grabbed her attention. It was asking students to join a field trip to look for rare turtles in a forest. She quickly volunteered and from that experience Minh started to get involved with wildlife conservation and a career in conservation beckoned.

After her studies she became involved with the Wildlife Conservation Society (WCS) – Vietnam program, and this gave her the opportunity to get to know Vietnamese wildlife better. And, while she was confident she would have a career in conservation, she explained to me that in Vietnam there is a belief that you do not choose your own career. She laughs as she says, that in Vietnam there is a saying that “the career chooses you, it’s not you that chooses your career. And I really hoped conservation would choose me”, she adds.

The barking deer

Minh’s next big step was to decide what to focus her efforts on. After some research, she discovered that a lot of attention was being given to Saola – Vietnam’s most critically endangered animal.

And, while substantial effort is needed to help save that animal, she realised that she could make a bigger contribution to conservation if she focused her attention on the plight of the large-antlered muntjac. The muntjac is an animal she knew from her youth and one that would become extinct without focused effort.

Her thinking on this proved correct when she spoke to conservation specialists who confirmed that to save the species there needed to be a more cohesive plan of action. This included raising awareness of the plight of the species and having a champion of the cause. With this insight, Minh spent the next two years developing her plan of how she could be most effective in preventing its extinction. She travelled deep into the dense forests and spoke with various experts to help bring her vision to life.

Driftnets of the land

As part of her initial research, Minh visited the mountains many times. During these visits she began to understand first-hand the extent of the threat from the snares which litter the landscape. A practice referred to as “driftnets of the land”.

As she explains: “when you look at the view and the hills, you would never imagine that they are covered in snares. Very few ground dwelling large animals can escape capture, as the snares are indiscriminate in what they catch. This is especially true for species like the large-antlered muntjac and saola.” This sad discovery strengthened her determination to act and help the muntjac and other animals.

Specialised hunters

According to Minh, while some local people leave snares, the vast majority are left by specialised hunters and poachers who come from different regions in Vietnam to supply the illegal bushmeat trade. And while rangers patrol the forest and remove snares, there are simply too many to stop the mass poaching. And they struggle to monitor the activities in the vast forests.

Therefore, after two years of research, Minh is now undertaking a PhD so she can develop an effective strategy. She wants to focus on “something that is practical for conservation” not purely research. Her field-based conservation approach will determine how many snares could lead to the extinction of the animal and how many must be removed for the animals to survive. She also wants to develop a strategy on how to monitor and make the forest safe for the animals. And in parallel, consider a captive breeding programme, so the animals can be reintroduced and recover in the wild.

Cross border collaboration

Working alongside Minh on one of her most recent activities are her committed Conservation Leadership Programme (CLP) project team members in Vietnam and Laos. She feels incredibly lucky to have their support and share the work between the two countries. As she says: “No one can work alone, it makes all the difference to have this co-operation”.

In addition to her CLP team is the support from experienced conservationists and organisations including WCS, Asian Arks, Saola Foundation, Saola Working Group, Southern Institute of Ecology and Nong Lam University. “I feel lucky and proud that others are interested and bring many different perspectives that can help large-antlered muntjac conservation be successful,” she says. “It’s amazing the support they give me, helping me with advice and training for my development.”

Best part of conservation

One of Minh’s favourite activities is to be in the forest. “I love being in the forest. Seeing the animals. Sitting still as they forage for food and being able to quietly observe them. It’s a beautiful feeling.” But sadly, she also knows that their foraging on the ground will lead them into danger as they can get easily captured in the many snares. This risk drives her to study but also makes her impatient to get back into the field.

Tough working conditions

And while being in the forest is a beautiful experience for Minh, it does present tough conditions. The landscape is very steep and hilly. It takes a lot of energy to hike through it. And typically, it’s men in the forest, not women. This can make people concerned for her. But it doesn’t hold her back and she doesn’t feel unsafe. Instead, her focus is to ensure she is not a burden to the people helping her such as forest rangers and local people. “You need to be very independent and to be a really strong person,” Minh tells me. “It also helps to have a good natural instinct to work in the forest. To be able to move around and carry things quite far”.

Finding your meaning

Considering her own journey into conservation, Minh shares her advice for other budding conservationists. “I often tell others, keep doing the things you like to do. But if you’re not clear on what you want to do, that’s okay. If you want to work in conservation, if you love wildlife, then try different things. There are many options. Find your talents and what gives you the most meaning. And if you have a strong desire and have a strong interest, then even if you do fail, you will stand up and try again.”  

As a young conservationist with little experience, Minh leans on the expertise of those around her. Which is another approach she recommends to other young conservationists. “Talk to specialists, ask questions, they can help hugely”, she says. “The people helping me are really wonderful and connect me with other experts. And then gradually you can develop your own ideas on what you want to do.”

Building trust as a young conservationist

However, her lack of experience is one of the biggest challenges she faces in pursuing her ambition which is something she needs to build to succeed. As she explains, “Will I be trusted to go into the forest? Will they trust me enough to let me develop the project and to cooperate with me?” But she is showing them she can do this. Her experience working in the field, her ability to work deep in the forest and showing the result of what she has done so far is building the trust she needs.

And now, people are accepting the fact that she is working in conservation. But they do worry for her as a young woman, often working in the forest with only men. Surprisingly, this is something she sees as a positive as she is grateful for their concern, and it makes her feel part of a family: “It makes me feel like we are brother and sister”, she says. “They are supporting me, helping me manage the risks and trying to do something new that will be good for future generations”.

And is it worth it? “Yes” she beams, “I think that I’m very lucky to work in this field, because I can always see so many amazing, beautiful scenes and wildlife that most people never have a chance to see. So, I think that’s something that makes me very lucky”.

About the author

Marie Conroy is a communications professional from Ireland. She is a keen traveller, loves sailing and exploring the natural world, taking lots of wildlife photos along the way. Her dream is to enable conservation projects by combining her skills in communications and passion for writing, with her lifelong love for nature.

Feeling inspired?

If Minh’s story makes you want to follow in her footsteps, then why not apply for one of our 2022 Team Awards? You could gain funding for your conservation projects, access to mentorship and professional training, as well as opportunities to build connections with other conservationists around the world. The application deadline is 10 October, 2021, and applications must be submitted via our online portal. Find out more information about our awards and other projects we have supported in the past.

Last week, the Conservation Leadership Programme (CLP) hosted the first of a three-part public webinar series taking place throughout June 2021. In the webinar, experienced conservationist, fundraiser and CLP trainer, Maaike Manten, shared her ten top tips for designing good conservation projects. For those who missed it (or just fancy a recap), Maaike’s tips and the webinar recording are available below.

Trained as a political scientist in Amsterdam, Maaike Manten started working for BirdLife International (one of the three CLP partnership organisations) in 2000 – first in the UK and Kenya as the Institutional Fundraiser for Africa, then in Fiji as the Fundraiser for the Pacific. She now works in Rwanda as the Regional Implementation Team leader for the Critical Ecosystem Partnership Fund (CEPF)’s investment programme, previously in the Eastern Afromontane biodiversity hotspot (2012-2020) and currently in the Mediterranean Basin hotspot. Maaike has been working with CLP since 2009, providing project design, proposal writing and fundraising trainings to young conservationists in Far East Asia, Latin America, East Africa and Central Asia.

Around 350 people registered to attend Maaike’s CLP webinar on June 11, 2021. This was by far the highest number of registrants we’ve had so far for such an event, reflecting the importance and relevance of the topic being discussed. As Maaike commented at the start, “A lot of you are probably waiting for ‘silver bullets’…those top tips that will turn your project designs into fundable proposals.”

Maaike recommends applying all ten of her ‘silver bullet’ tips to your project design, to not only help you with your fundraising efforts but also achieve better conservation impacts.

Maaike Manten’s Ten Top Tips for Good Project Design:

1. Read the guidelines – and stick to them (make it more difficult for a donor to reject you)
2. If you have no problem, you don’t need a project (think about ‘why’ before ‘what’)
3. If you have a problem, fix it (make sure your ‘how’ and ‘what’ relate to your ‘why’)
4. Start with sustainability (it is not an ‘afterthought’)
5. Use evidence, and build on science (don’t do the wrong thing, there is no time to waste)
6. Monitor, Evaluate, and Learn (include MEL in your design!)
7. Build on what you’ve got (and do a SWOT)
8. Don’t go it alone (working together is cool)
9. Write as clear as a window pane (Keep It Seriously Simple)
10. Use the right words (speak your donor’s language)

For more guidance around each of these ten tips, you can watch the recording of Maaike’s webinar below:

Maaike also recommends using these three top tools:

1. “Institutional Fundraising for Conservation Projects” manual, co-authored by Maaike and available to download for free on the CLP website (in English, Spanish, French, Arabic, and Portuguese). This manual offers a step-by-step guide to improve your success rate at institutional fundraising by showing you how to plan high-quality projects, how to translate them into excellent funding proposals, how to develop constructive enduring donor relationships, and how to draft short- and long-term fundraising plans and strategies. The manual provides a mixture of theoretical tools, practical examples and insightful tips based on years of fundraising experience.
2. Science and evidence resource
3. Monitoring and Evaluation toolkit

And finally – good luck!

This blog was originally published on the Conservation Careers website, which can be found here.

Written by Marie Conroy

In this interview, communications specialist Marie Conroy speaks to Vishal Ahuja, a Conservation Leadership Programme (CLP) alumnus and teacher turned conservationist, who has dedicated himself to protecting the sacred langurs of Chamba, an Endangered leaf monkey.

By studying their behaviour, engaging local communities and farmers, and restoring their natural habitats, Vishal tells us his story and why he is so passionate about conservation.

When the government of Himachal Pradesh, a state in Northern India, introduced a new land policy in 1968 to help needy people, little did anyone realise the impact this would have on wildlife. As a result of the policy, land was cleared of trees for agriculture and horticulture. At that time, the rezoned land was inhabited by many animals including the now Endangered Himalayan grey langur, a leaf monkey, also known as the sacred langurs of Chamba.

With the loss of its natural habitat, the animals now frequently raid farms for food, resulting in conflict with local farmers, many of whom feel helpless against the furry raiders stealing their crops and impacting their livelihoods.

This is where Vishal Ahuja comes in. Teacher turned conservationist, Vishal has dedicated himself to protecting the sacred langurs by studying their behaviour, engaging local communities and farmers, and restoring their natural habitats for the benefit of all those who rely on it for their existence.

From the classroom to the forest

Vishal grew up in the village of Chamba, surrounded by mountains and forests. From a young age, he was fascinated by the beautiful natural world around him, often questioning why some areas had no trees, and what could be done about this.

Initially his first calling was teaching. This held his focus for some years, going to his classes and passing his exams so he could go on to become a teacher. Only after he graduated did he begin to really look at the natural world around him. “I started hiking around the mountains and I realised we have beautiful forests. I was fascinated by the forest and the wildlife”, he says.

Luckily for Vishal one of his teachers, Dr Bipan C. Rathore was studying conflict between Himalayan brown bears and migrating shepherds. Vishal started to join him when he visited a local wildlife sanctuary, the Kugti Wildlife Sanctuary, collecting data on the conflict. This experience changed him, inspiring him to pursue a career in conservation.

Getting to the root of the issue

When the Himalayan Langur Project was initiated in 2012 with support from the NGO, Wildlife Information Liaison Development Society, and a CLP Future Conservationist Award, little was known about the langurs and the cause of the conflict. The team’s first step was to establish distribution information, map conflict zones and identify other conservation threats in the region.

To do this, they visited over 240 sites on foot. This was difficult work, and they faced many barriers including poor weather conditions, which can lead to landslides, and many villages are under snow cover for months.

As they visited the villages and spoke with the farmers, they discovered that langurs were not the only raiders: black bears, porcupines and macaques were also destroying the crops.

During their work, the project team discovered that one of the causes of deforestation was a previous government policy introduced in 1968, called the Nautor Land Rules.

This policy allowed those earning less than 2,000 rupees to be given land for agricultural and horticulture activities. It also allowed local people to have land cleared of trees. The initiative allowed farming to flourish in the area, but not without consequence on the surrounding environment. There was significant habitat degradation and deforestation leading to fragmentation of the forest and destruction of the natural corridors which the animals relied on.

With the remaining ‘fragmented patches’ no longer capable of providing food for wildlife and their natural corridors destroyed, the animals turn to the farmed crops for food. As described by Vishal, “their natural home has been disturbed. With the loss of many native trees and typical plants, the langurs have to come out of the forest to find food”.

This raiding behaviour led to conflict with local farmers. During Vishal’s visits he found the true extent of feelings against the langurs and the alarming situation that the farmers wanted them removed from the forest.

Fostering human wildlife co-existence

However, now almost nine years into the project, things are beginning to improve as a result of Vishal’s persistent hard work and support from the project founder and mentor Dr Sanjay Molur.

Vishal is working to restore the native forests by sowing wild fruit plants and trying to restore the natural corridors. But restoring lost nature does not happen overnight – it can take a decade or more to see any benefit.

He has built a collaborative relationship with the forest department, sharing expertise and recommendations about the forest. For example, he has highlighted where wild plants are lacking, and the forest department are providing them from their nurseries for Vishal to plant.

Even better for Vishal and crucial to the success of the project is that the local communities and farmers are now listening and beginning to understand the issue. As a result of numerous meetings, he has developed good relationships with them, helping to gain their confidence and build understanding.

While they once were telling him to take the langurs away, they are beginning to understand the need for co-existence. Vishal has helped them understand that the wildlife is dependent on the forest, and if they cannot get what they need from the forest, they will come to farms looking for food.

When I ask him, How does that make him feel? Immensely proud, it turns out: “The fact that they are listening, trust me, and understand the situation makes me very proud. And I feel very proud that the words we are saying are having an impact”.

So, is this a job for everyone?

According to Vishal, it’s not. While the project is yielding some results, it is extremely hard work, and it can take years to see real change. And while it may seem serene to be working in a forest it can be lonely.

And then there is the unpredictable weather. “Halfway to your destination it can start raining heavily and you have to turn back,” he explains. To make matters worse, many villages are quite remote and on arrival, it can happen that either no one is home, or the head of the family and main decision maker is not home.

Not only does Vishal’s work take constant dedication. He often has difficult conversations with farmers who see their livelihoods being destroyed and as a result feel helpless and angry. But he knows it is core to the project’s success that he helps farmers understand what is needed for peaceful co-existence.

And this does not discourage him. In fact, he still says it’s his childhood dream come true. “The fact is, you’re working for the betterment of mankind. If you are passionate about conserving nature and wildlife, if you have that passion inside you, then you can tackle all the challenges”.

To discover more about this project visit the project’s Facebook Page, the website for WILD  and the CLP project pages.

About the author

Marie Conroy is a communications professional from Ireland. She is a keen traveller, loves sailing and exploring the natural world, taking lots of wildlife photos along the way. Her dream is to enable conservation projects by combining her skills in communications and passion for writing, with her lifelong love for nature.

By Muntasir Akash

This article is adapted from a version originally published on The Revelator website, which can be found here.

The crab-eating mongoose is one of many elusive carnivores found in the protected national parks of north-eastern Bangladesh © Muntasir Akash

Years ago I decided to focus my research and conservation efforts on the smaller carnivores of Bangladesh. It was not an easy decision, as there appears to be a bias against studying these smaller species. Researchers in my country seem to be focused on saving larger, iconic species like tigers, leopards, bears and striped hyenas.

Although the smaller carnivores that roam the forests of Bangladesh do seem to appear frequently in stories told among my colleagues, they remain more elusive in the wild and are seldom the subject of published research — difficult to understand and rarely surveyed.

But there’s a lot to study. One of the smallest countries in Asia, Bangladesh provides habitat to 127 different existing mammal species. Of these, 21 were newly recognized during the latest Red List assessment by the International Union for Conservation of Nature (IUCN).

Perhaps even more surprisingly, Bangladesh boasts nearly half of the entire carnivore diversity of the Indian subcontinent. The 28 extant carnivore mammals represent six different terrestrial families: Viverridae (six species), Felidae (eight species), Herpestidae (three species), Canidae (three species), Ursidae (two species) and Mustelidae (six species). That’s impressive for a country that has less than 7% natural forest coverage and a population density of more than 1,000 people per square kilometer.

Muntasir Akash and his team have recorded a variety of mammals in the national parks of north-eastern Bangladesh using camera-traps. Pictured (clockwise, from top left): golden jackal, northern pig-tailed macaque, yellow-throated marten and leopard cat © Muntasir Akash

How the smaller carnivores are faring in a land so challenging and crammed has been an enigma. Like a moth to a flame, I was drawn to find more answers.

In 2018 I led a small camera-trap survey in a 2.5 square-kilometer national park in north-east Bangladesh. What we found amazed me. Nearly 600 days of camera trapping yielded 17 different mammals, including ten carnivores. The study showed that the Asiatic wild dog — a globally Endangered apex predator with a wild population of only 2,215 known mature individuals — visits the park frequently, making it an important habitat for this rarely studied and little-understood carnivore.

In 2018, Muntasir Akash’s camera-trapping survey in a national park in north-eastern Bangladesh provided the first evidence that the Asiatic wild dog, or dhole, is a frequent visitor © Muntasir Akash

Not long afterward, in 2019, my team and I rediscovered the Indian gray wolf in Bangladesh after it had been considered extinct in the country for 70 years.

I was thrilled that these often-overlooked carnivores seemed to be clinging to life in their ecologically uncharted habitats — and eager to find out more.

After gaining my first international grant from the Conservation Leadership Programme (CLP) last year, I’ve been able to continue my research on small carnivores in three of the six north-eastern forest reserves. These semi-evergreen, undulating hilly swaths comprise 191 square kilometers of natural forests at the border between India and Bangladesh.

The wildlife here faces numerous threats, including conflict with people and loss of suitable habitat. Uncovering the secret lives of our country’s lesser-known and less-valued carnivores can therefore help protect them from these threats and engage others in vital conservation efforts.

However, pursuing unorthodox queries often comes with difficult hurdles. In addition to my ongoing studies in the parks, I recently co-wrote a manuscript reviewing the previous research on the mammalian carnivores of Bangladesh. This past August I received feedback from one peer reviewer who landed an unexpected blow, observing, “Small carnivores are rarely a subject of research, usually studied within the large-scale landscape-level projects.”

The idea that my research seemed to this reviewer as of little consequence hit me hard, and I sensed impostor syndrome creeping in.

I finally summoned enough confidence to defend the manuscript, mainly through support from peers I met while participating in CLP’s Conservation Management & Leadership workshop— many of whom are also working on species poorly known to the outside world that are rare and often very secretive. The manuscript is now published, and I’m continuing to try to shine a spotlight on the lesser-known carnivores in Bangladesh. I hope to push back against the apparent bias against them and encourage others to care about them through unique approaches. These include ongoing, systematic camera-trap surveys in my northeastern study areas, using scientific illustrations as a conservation tool, and sharing knowledge about camera-trapping with other aspiring researchers.

I feel even more compelled to act given the seemingly widespread belief that conservation of the smaller carnivores is somehow not viable or worthwhile.

The small-clawed otter, a globally vulnerable small carnivore, can still be found in certain protected areas of north-eastern Bangladesh. This is the first camera-trap image of the species from the region © Muntasir Akash/Northeast Bangladesh Carnivore Conservation Initiative

In fact I’ve realized that working to save less-understood species has a nobility of its own and has helped me to become a better scientist. In the coming years I dream of a generation of nature enthusiasts emerging from Bangladesh, represented by ecologists and citizen scientists acting as advocates for our lesser-known and less-valued species.

If those species are not “charismatic” according to the standards of conservation, they are nonetheless extraordinary to those of us who study them and critical to healthy ecosystem function. Every form of wildlife has its place in nature and must be appreciated without fear and treated with equal importance. There may be no group better poised to start that process than the lesser-known smaller carnivores.

By Kumar Paudel, CLP alumnus and co-founder & Director of Greenhood Nepal

Maire’s yew is a globally threatened tree with cancer-treating properties. In Nepal, the species is critically endangered nationally, with only a few hundred mature trees left in the wild. My team and I at Greenhood Nepal are currently on a mission to safeguard the future of this very special tree.

The bark, leaves and trunk of Maire’s yew contain a compound called Taxol that has proven cancer-treating properties, but this discovery has been both a blessing and a curse for the species. Locals have learned of its commercial value and are overexploiting it with very little consideration of its conservation status.

The problems facing Maire’s yew are of particular interest to Greenhood Nepal, an NGO I founded in 2012 with six other friends. From the beginning, our goal was to empower people across Nepal to respond to emerging conservation challenges to better protect and manage our natural resources.

In 2018, with CLP support, Greenhood Nepal began the first-ever population survey of Maire’s yew tree in Central Nepal, revealing very sparse numbers across its mid-hill forest range. We also spoke to local communities to try to understand harvesting practices—a difficult challenge considering most people here know very little about the yew.

There’s no doubt that Maire’s yew tree is facing a bleak future in Nepal. As a dioecious species (meaning the male and female reproductive structures are on separate trees), its natural regeneration relies on ‘males’ and ‘females’ being in close proximity so that pollinators can do their work. However, cross-pollination is now becoming increasingly unlikely given the sparse remaining population and uncontrolled overharvesting across the species’ range.

This very special tree is being driven to extinction in our country, by our hands.

Not to say that the destruction of our forests has been ignored. Quite the contrary in fact. Over the last 40 years or so, collaborative community forestry initiatives have helped protect our diminishing forests and even increased forest cover in some areas.

“Giving back to whom it belongs” was the central principle of these community forest initiatives, which sought to empower local communities to manage and use forest resources for their own benefit. Decision-making was handed over to local users, giving them an incentive to ensure sustainable forest use and be responsible for its management (under the supervision of government authorities).

What still concerns me is that these community forests – in Nepal, at least – focus more on forest management than on biodiversity conservation, and their contribution to the livelihoods of local people is still questionable in many areas.

Central to the issue is that our community forest users prepare management plans only every 5-10 years. These are often just a formality and are usually developed without consulting biodiversity experts, so they rarely address biodiversity conservation or conform to sustainable use policies.

In the case of Maire’s yew, our 2018 CLP project found that local people were illegally harvesting the trees from community forests and were not taking account of the health of the trees. Outside community forests, private cultivators were being encouraged by local authorities to grow seedlings obtained from stem cutting a single tree – a practice that could reduce the genetic diversity of the subsequent yew population.

Considering the urgency to save our few remaining Maire’s yew trees, Greenhood Nepal is working hard to sensitize local communities about the conservation importance of the species and the potential benefits they could gain in the future from its trade. I’m happy to say that the communities have already started to save the trees from stone mining and road construction.

Apart from saving what remains right now, we are also working closely with local governments to restore the historically exploited population across its range in Central Nepal. We are in conversations with local nurseries and regeneration experts to enable its artificial propagation, to produce sex-balanced seedlings, and establish plantations.

The success of community-based conservation can be retained only if it benefits the people who are protecting it. Communities need to be aware of the species population, distribution, and sustainable harvesting techniques so they are engaged in its long-term conservation. As such, with the support of the Kate Stokes Memorial Trust, we have been developing sustainable harvesting guidelines for community forest users and testing these with experts and harvester communities.

Our dream is to ensure the long-term survival of Maire’s yews in Nepalese forests, while ensuring communities can benefit from sustainable harvesting and trade of the yew’s potentially life-saving properties. This will surely be a win-win for both yews and people.

Find out more in the video below:

About the author

Kumar Paudel is a conservation scholar-practitioner based in Nepal. He conducts research to understand species conservation problems and develop interventions on the ground. His work is mostly focused on wildlife trade, pangolins, plants, and conservation policy. He recently graduated from the University of Cambridge with an MPhil in Conservation Leadership and has now returned to Nepal to continue to work for Greenhood Nepal.

By Henry Rees, CLP Programme Officer

Not long ago, when I was at a very early stage in my career, I had quite straightforward beliefs about biodiversity conservation. Back then, I saw very little overlap between the human and ecological worlds. My understanding of conservation was simply that these worlds should be kept apart where possible and that this was the only way to prevent further degradation. Now, with more hindsight, I can say with certainty that this view is limited.

Below I reflect on how broadening our perspectives, and finding a more holistic understanding of conservation as a system, could help us begin to unlock a healthier, more protected planet for future generations.

Henry Rees, CLP Programme Officer © Henry Rees

What do I mean by a ‘system’?

A system can be defined as “a collection of related components that interact with one another toward a greater whole and a common goal.” Early on in my career, I began to realize the power of systems-thinking: a discipline that helps us reveal the different components of a system and understand how they interact. Often used in other sectors like technology and engineering, it is now gaining traction in the conservation world, and it appealed to me as an effective tool for diagnosing problems that don’t have obvious, easy solutions.

The ‘blue jumper’ analogy helps to visualise a systems-thinking approach. You can ask: what components of a blue jumper come together to make the whole thing?

First, there are the threads, each of which is important and interwoven in such a way to give the jumper its unique structure. Other components are also at work. The blue dye and materials are also present and interacting. The jumper wouldn’t be the same without all of these different elements.

Employing systems thinking on our blue jumper may reveal previously undiscovered components and questions. Where were the materials sourced from? Where was it made? By whom? Why did they make it? And so on.

The list of components can be extensive, and some are more important than others. But, ultimately, if any of them are affected, then this could cause a chain reaction and dynamically affect the other components in ways you may never have thought possible. The blue jumper could be compromised for good.

Systems thinking and conservation

Starting to think about conservation as a system was a big turning point for me. I realised that using this approach opens up a range of seemingly infinite components that we can look at to find solutions to our most pressing environmental problems.

This realisation gave me hope, but it also helped me begin to comprehend the problems that we face. The systems in which we must intervene to protect biodiversity are complex, consisting of both ecological and social components.

Henry (far left) with the African Bat Conservation research team in Malawi © Henry Rees

Research has shown that if we wish to effectively intervene, we must first develop a holistic understanding of these components, including the varied needs, perspectives and values of the people involved.

As has been shown in conservation countless times before, intervening without considering these interacting values may lead us to fail in our mission to protect biodiversity.

Our actions may be linked to and have unintended consequences elsewhere in the system. Pulling one stray thread in your blue jumper may cause the rest of the threads to snag and eventually the whole thing will unravel.

Building a more complete picture of conservation

It is impossible for any one person to identify all of the hidden components of a system. They will only be able to recognise certain components and interactions that have some relation to their own perceptions and biases, which are informed by their unique life experiences.

So, the only way we can ever hope to achieve a holistic understanding of a system is by talking to and working with others.

As a programme dedicated to building the capacity of early-career conservationists, CLP works to achieve levels of collaboration not often seen in the conservation sector. We are a close partnership between three organisations (FFI, BirdLife and WCS) and we each have strong lines of communication and co-operation with one another.

Through our annual Team Awards, we fund and train exceptional conservationists leading applied biodiversity projects that seek tangible, long-term solutions to the world’s most pressing conservation challenges. Many of our alumni have gone on to deliver remarkable conservation impacts, most recently showcased in our latest annual report and in our News pages.

Each year, we host awardees at key events and at our regional and international training courses, where they get invaluable opportunities to meet peers and establish long-lasting friendships and potential collaborations.

This year, during the pandemic, we continued to form these important links in our first-ever online international Conservation Management & Leadership course, which has connected more than 30 conservation leaders from several countries including Kenya, Argentina, Georgia, Vietnam, Bangladesh, South Africa, India, Bolivia and Tajikistan (to name just a few!)

This year, CLP held its first-ever online international Conservation Management & Leadership course, which established links among conservationists around the world.

Collaborative thinking and action are key

We are all vital components of the systems in which we operate and we each see these systems differently. In this way, collaborative thinking and action are essential to understanding and combating the complex problems facing biodiversity. By taking the time to acknowledge and understand the perspectives of others, our alumni are able to build a more complete picture of their projects and the challenges they need to overcome. Only in this way can we not only keep our ‘blue jumper’ from unravelling, but also ensure the threads, and the connections between them, are strong and effective enough to last.

About the author

About a year ago, Henry Rees joined the CLP team as a Programme Officer at Fauna & Flora International (FFI) in Cambridge, UK. Before joining CLP, he had completed a BSc in Zoology and an MSc in Conservation Science and worked as a wildlife surveyor. Born and raised in London, he grew up in a family who instilled in him a deep love of nature. Working in conservation had been a dream that had motivated him for most of his life, but it wasn’t until he studied conservation formally that he began to view it as an interconnected system.

While the exact cause of the COVID-19 outbreak is still a matter of debate, the broad consensus is that at its origin is a coronavirus that occurs in wildlife (a zoonotic disease). There is also strong evidence to suggest that human actions enabled the causative coronavirus, SARS-CoV-2, to jump from wild animals to people.

In search of expert insights, we spoke to CLP alumnae, Iroro Tanshi and Dr Mariane Kaizer, who both lead conservation projects impacted by a zoonotic disease. Below they explain how human actions contributed to the disease outbreak, and why conservation efforts will play a vital role in preventing future pandemics.

Yellow fever is one of the main threats to the survival of Critically Endangered northern muriqui monkeys © Rodrigo Silva

COVID-19: A bat conservationist’s perspective

CLP awardee and bat specialist, Iroro Tanshi, has dedicated her PhD research and 2020 CLP project to saving the only known population of short-tailed roundleaf bats (Hipposideros curtus) in Nigeria. Thanks to her research efforts, the IUCN Red List has recently uplisted the species from Vulnerable to Endangered.

Yet Iroro’s vital work has been put in jeopardy since an ancestral version of SARS-CoV-2 was found in bats. Iroro and other bat conservationists are concerned that the misinterpretation of these findings will make people believe —very wrongly—that bats cause the spread of COVID-19.

Iroro notes substantial anecdotal evidence indicating the escalation of bat culling around the world, presumably due to the mistaken belief that it will curb the spread of the disease.

The only known population of Endangered short-tailed roundleaf bats in Nigeria was discovered by 2020 CLP awardee, Iroro Tanshi. © Chidiogo Okoye/SMACON (left image) © Benneth Obitte/SMACON (right image)

Iroro and her colleagues are fighting to prevent bat culling by stressing that it is people who transmit COVID-19 to other people, not bats. It’s also important to note that, while bats and other animals are known to harbour SAR-like coronaviruses, the exact mechanism that caused the virus to move from wildlife to humans (viral spillover) remains unknown.

According to Iroro, what is clear is that people played a key role in causing the outbreak. “Normally, the chances of a viral spillover event occurring are very, very low. But through our actions, we provided an already adaptable coronavirus with ample opportunities and the perfect conditions to flourish,” she said.

Iroro explains that the destruction of bats’ natural habitats and the wildlife trade are likely to have caused novel species interactions and increased human-wildlife contact, allowing the virus to spillover to humans. However, as the specific origin of the virus is still being investigated, it is unclear whether bats were involved directly or indirectly (via an intermediate host) or if there are other wildlife origins we don’t yet know about.

Irrespective of the origins of SARS-CoV-2, human actions are ultimately to blame for the spillover and community transmission. It is thus our responsibility to prevent such zoonotic outbreaks from happening again.

Yellow fever: Learning lessons from the past

In 2018, Brazilian primate expert Dr Mariane Kaizer led a CLP-funded project to raise public support for the conservation of endemic primate species in Brazil, including Critically Endangered northern muriquis monkeys (Brachyteles hypoxanthus).

At the time, Brazil was experiencing an epidemic of yellow fever (YF), an infectious disease caused by a mosquito-borne virus (for which non-human primates are the main reservoir of infection). The outbreak was spreading in both human and non-human primate populations throughout the south-east Atlantic forest region.

Mariane and her team set out to uncover how YF was affecting monkeys in the area. In the Caparaó National Park, they found dozens of southern brown howler monkeys (Alouatta clamitans) had died from YF. Another team working just 80 kilometres north in the Private Reserve Mata do Sossego found the illness had killed 26% of the northern muriquis population, which was a crippling blow to the already declining population.

Dr Mariane Kaizer during fieldwork in the Caparaó National Park, south-east Brazil. © Francisco Homem.

But the monkeys here aren’t just at risk from YF. Along with illegal hunting, wildlife trade and habitat destruction due to deforestation, they are also in danger of being persecuted and killed by local people who mistakenly fear they cause the spread of diseases like YF.

Such actions are probably increasing the risk of YF outbreaks in people. Deforestation destroys the natural barriers that would otherwise keep infected mosquitos at bay. And, by entering forests to illegally hunt or capture monkeys, people are more likely to be bitten by infected mosquitos and carry them back to other people, such as in vehicles.

Now that there is an increased risk of YF and other zoonotic disease outbreaks, health authorities in Brazil have had to start relying on non-human primates as ‘natural sentinels’ in wildlife disease surveillance programmes. In the case of YF, the virus affects monkeys before it affects people, providing a vital early indicator of a potential YF outbreak in human populations.

Mariane believes that learning lessons from such well-documented cases and conservation projects could help us prevent future outbreaks of zoonotic diseases. “After the COVID-19 outbreak, it is now more vital than ever before to use what we have learned from past experiences (like in the case of the yellow fever epizootic in Brazil) to improve how we monitor and mitigate harmful zoonoses,” says Mariane.

Reinforcing the barriers against disease

To prevent future zoonotic disease outbreaks and protect nature, Mariane and Iroro are among many conservation leaders who are campaigning for change. Among the CLP partners, for example, two public petitions are calling on governments and the private sector worldwide – one to make living on a healthy planet a human right and another to pledge $500 billion in funding to local conservation groups around the world.

Moreover, there has been a call for a ban on the commercial wildlife trade that considers cultural and socioeconomic implications related to the traditions and food security needs of local people.

Across the world, it is clear that we must work together to prevent ecological degradation and restore natural habitats, prohibit nonessential hunting and the commercial wildlife trade, and establish comprehensive wildlife disease surveillance programmes. These changes could prevent future zoonoses and their potentially devastating impact on both people and wildlife.

By Charles Emogor

This blog was originally published on the PBS Nature website here.

Charles Emogor and his PhD study species, the Endangered white-bellied pangolin (Phataginus tricuspis). Photo credit: Charles Emogor.

Even before the COVID-19 pandemic, pangolins have been making headlines. These shy, quirky but cute mammals are one of the most heavily trafficked yet least understood animals in the world.

The sad plight that pangolins are facing and the love I’ve had for them since childhood are the main reasons I decided to study them for my PhD. During my first field trip (before the pandemic started), I was lucky enough to see my first live pangolin after almost two decades of dreaming of that moment!

With my fieldwork suspended for now, I’ve been reflecting on how this crisis could impact the future conservation of pangolins and other threatened wildlife.

I haven’t always studied pangolins. In my early conservation days, I was granted an internship by the Conservation Leadership Programme (CLP) to work with the Wildlife Conservation Society (WCS) in Nigeria on a project focused on saving the Critically Endangered Cross River gorilla.

This subspecies is so rare that in two years of fieldwork, I never saw a single gorilla – although I found a lot of nests and dung. Although my research has recently shifted from gorillas to pangolins, this hasn’t stopped me from keeping a close eye on how COVID-19 is affecting vulnerable African great apes.

When I found out about my CLP internship, I felt overjoyed. Since then, one of the few experiences equalling that feeling of excitement was seeing my first live pangolin. He was an extremely shy white-bellied pangolin (Phataginus tricuspis – EN) that I named Abacus.

As part of my PhD project, we have fitted Abacus and three other pangolins with VHF (Very High Frequency) transmitters so we can monitor them closely and gather data on their home range size and occupancy in Nigeria’s Cross River National Park. Just as we begin this vital fact-finding mission, we couldn’t have been happier to hear that CLP has granted us a $15,000 Team Award to help us implement the project!

Abacus: a male white-bellied pangolin (Phataginus tricuspis), weighing approximately 1.95 kg, tagged with VHF transmitters as part of Charles Emogor’s PhD research.

When I first heard the news that pangolins could be linked to the coronavirus outbreak, I initially panicked and felt overwhelmed. I thought about the fate of Abacus and the other tagged pangolins—would they be killed in retaliation by hostile humans or those people with a misplaced urge to curb the spread of the disease?

Then I started to notice a paucity of evidence indicating that pangolins are responsible for the outbreak. Nonetheless, there is evidence suggesting that they are natural carriers of coronaviruses, which are similar to SARS-CoV-2 (the coronavirus causing COVID-19, first identified in a so-called ‘wet’ market in Wuhan, China).

Research also suggests that pangolins might have acted as an intermediary in the spread of the virus. Unfortunately, we might never get a clearer picture of the situation as the markets at the epicentre of the outbreak were shut down by the Chinese government for health reasons.

Whether or not scientists manage to identify the origin and dynamics of COVID-19, we can build on the abundance of available evidence showing that wildlife markets are continually posing danger to human health and well-being. This alone should be a compelling enough reason for us to act now to prevent future outbreaks.

Indeed, many conservationists and organisations have already started calling for a ban on the trade of wildlife for consumption. Although banning the commercial wildlife trade might prove critical in curbing future zoonotic pandemics, it is essential that any ban consider cultural and socioeconomic implications related to the traditions and food security needs of local people.

With projected challenges in enforcing ban regulations, the consumption and trade of wildlife is a globally widespread and complex issue, which almost certainly requires a careful response at the national level at a minimum and more complex global policy protocols to the extent possible.

A meeting with a group of local hunters in one of the communities surrounding the Cross River National Park in Nigeria. Photo credit: Charles Emogor.

Lately, I have become more optimistic that the crisis might be beneficial to pangolin conservation. I’m hoping that more funding will become available for pangolin conservation and research, which will throw more light on the dynamics of their illegal trade and ultimately curb the decline of pangolins.

Furthermore, there is the possibility that the demand for pangolin meat will decrease – as already observed in Gabon – and lead to less killing by local hunters. Nevertheless, we should continue to push for a complete ban on the hunting and trade of pangolins and the active enforcement of bans already in place in numerous countries, including Nigeria.

In the meantime, there have been encouraging examples of authorities taking action against pangolin trafficking. The Chinese government, for example, has recently removed pangolin scales from the list of approved ingredients for traditional medicines, after the protected status of pangolins was raised to the highest level in China.

From wanton trafficking to being the suspected cause of thousands of deaths worldwide, pangolins have always found themselves in situations they did not bargain for. But while we watch the current plot twist play out, we can take solace in knowing that this crisis has resulted in increased awareness about the conservation status of pangolins and has already started prompting actions at national levels.

I am indeed privileged to be contributing towards saving these vulnerable animals from extinction. As I count my blessings from my internship days, I am grateful to those individuals and institutions that have played critical roles along my journey up to this point.

About the author

Charles Emogor is a first-year PhD student at the University of Cambridge, supervised by Professor Andrew Balmford in the Department of Zoology. His research focuses on understanding the ecology of the white-bellied pangolin and carrying out conservation education and outreach among local communities in the Cross River National Park, Nigeria. Charles attained a BSc in Forestry and Wildlife Management from the Cross River University of Technology, Nigeria, and an MSc in Biodiversity, Conservation and Management at the University of Oxford. He also holds a post-graduate diploma in Endangered Species Management from the University of Kent and is interested in tropical ecology and conservation.

By: Dirk Pienaar

It was a pleasant surprise when I received the news that I was given the opportunity by the De Beers Group to attend CLP’s Conservation Management and Leadership course in Brazil. I would have a long journey from the Kalahari to the Atlantic Forest. In the end I can say it was definitely worth it, not only for the new skills, but for the new family I found among 17 other participants from around the world. My conservation journey led me here and it began long before this course. Allow me to share part of my story.

I am #Khomani san, a South African bushman. I grew up in a very remote and traditional village of the Kalahari in the 1980s. I was part of a family which I felt at the time was too concerned about dwelling in their past lifestyle as hunter gathers, focused more on the well-being of the family dogs and donkeys than their own children. I became the family animal caretaker in order to get the attention and affection from the elderly that I so desired. In a short time I was baptized “the animal child.” As I spent more time with them, I developed a deep love for animals which became so strong that when I learned that the meat we eat comes from the animals I love, I began to hate people, especially adults. I did not know what I could do to change things until my favourite uncle taught me about the traditional way of bushman life. His teachings made me realize how ecology works and why energy needs to be lost in order to be created. Gradually I could convert my childhood hate for humans into a deeper understanding of the human species.

Despite my love for nature, my family decided that I should study law when I finished school and as a village child I had to oblige. This felt like a mistake but I understood the reasons: my community has struggled for years to claim their ancestral land without any success and could not afford lawyers’ fees. Despite feeling motivated to help this cause, I quit law school after trying for two years. By that time, the community was awarded a portion of our ancestral land back and a project began to reconnect bushman with their ancestral land and to ensure that they transfer their traditional skills to the new bushman generation. I began work as a youth coordinator for this project. I also translated the negotiation documents with the South African National Park about traditional conservation methods and utilization from a #Khomani san bushman perspective.

All the while my interest in conservation as a profession was growing. Through various training and education opportunities, I became a nature guide, then tourism manager, and I am now a tourism and conservation officer in my community. I have started looking into new projects to monitor and conserve biodiversity on the #Khomani san properties. One of the projects is related to aardvarks (Oryteropus afer). My fascination with them aside, I chose to study them as very little is known about the species and because we as bushman hunted aardvarks in the past. This project investigates if aardvarks are still hunted and if so, what is the rate of utilization. The project will also document the traditional bushman hunting techniques and create educational material for our children.

Attending the CLP training in Brazil was a turning point for me, and I found the tools shared in the leadership and behaviour change sessions valuable. The approach to learning and teaching was very fresh and new and it provided ample opportunities for all of us to continuously participate and engage during sessions. When I got home, I completed the logical framework exercise with my colleagues who really appreciated the tool. My all-time favourite part of the course was learning a new way to conduct daily check-ins: reflecting on highlights from the day before, expressing gratitude, celebrating accomplishments, and sharing desires for the future. When I introduced this to my team during our compulsory Monday morning meetings, our work environment almost changed overnight. We now have a constant flow of positive energy and we all are willing to embrace it after struggling to pinpoint the source of challenges among the group. I have been a part of numerous workshops in the past and conducted a few myself, but CLP, you guys are the best!

I met the awesome people of Brazil and enjoyed the hospitality at the training center and the nearby villages. Mauro and Jeff gave my roommates and I Spanish lessons while watching soccer in the village. I experienced my first boat ride with bird experts William and Martin. I tried local food and drinks and watched Bollywood moves in action while Akshay, Upma, and Christina danced during culture night. I once went to bed laughing myself to sleep with Sherilyn’s voice in my ears – she was saying the words to a game we just learned to play. I sang in front of people for the first time, wrote and sang a song and poems, but most of all I gained a new family. Don’t ask me why we call our group the “swamp monkeys” – the name just stuck. No matter how tired I am after putting my children to sleep at night, reading updates from everyone on our group chat brings a smile to my face.

I brought seeds of emotional treasures to the Kalahari to plant a CLP tree in my garden, a tree that will grow amongst the other beautiful plants I have already collected. I water this colourful tree constantly and talk to each of the leaves. Each has a unique shape, size and character of its own.  The other morning it had a fresh leaf which puzzled me at first. I soon realized it was Mridul, a CLP alum who was remotely connected with our group even though he couldn’t be with us in Brazil. Here he was on my tree, saying hi.

This course was made possible thanks to the support of the following donors: the Aage V. Jensen Charity Foundation, American Express, Arcadia – a charitable fund of Lisbet Rausing and Peter Baldwin, the British Birdwatching Fair, De Beers Group, and the Global Trees Campaign.