A Corridor Lost
Long ago, the Yala River flowed through a verdant corridor of acacias, figs, and warburgias. Elders from the Luo community recall abundant wildlife, crystal-clear waters, and fertile banks that sustained villages for generations.
As farming encroached on the shores and grazing stripped the vegetation bare, the riparian zone began to collapse — soil washed away, silt clouded the pools, and the waterfalls grew quieter.
The Turning Point
Through the Care, Share, and Explore Program and a landmark partnership with TreeSisters, Ambururu planted thousands of indigenous trees along the degraded banks. These aren't ornamental plantings — they are ecological infrastructure.
Species like bamboo bind soils and absorb floods. Fruit-bearing figs attract birds and pollinators. The river's corridor is slowly rebuilding itself.
A Revival Begins
The falls are louder now. The pools are clearer. Bird counts along the riparian corridor have risen year on year. The African Fish Eagle — silent here for a decade — was spotted again in October 2025.
This is the story of Ambururu's revival. It is still being written, one seedling at a time, and the next chapter begins in March 2026.
Erosion & Flood Control
Tree roots grip the soil like ancient anchors. Bamboo retains water and filters sediments, proven along the Mara River basin.
Biodiversity Boost
Riparian forests support endangered birds, insects, and mammals. African Fish Eagles and rare trogons are returning to Ambururu.
Water Quality
Trees act as natural filters, absorbing pollutants and regulating stream flows, keeping the waterfall pools pristine.
Climate Resilience
As carbon sinks, planted trees contribute to Kenya's 15-billion-tree goal by 2032, reducing evaporation and cooling air temperatures.
Community Livelihoods
Trees mean jobs — from nurseries to eco-tourism — and sustainable resources like fruits and timber for local families.
Thousands of trees planted along degraded banks have turned barren soil into a living, breathing habitat corridor.
Ambururu Conservation Report, 2025Standing at the edge of a roaring waterfall, mist kissing your face, surrounded by a lush canopy of indigenous trees — this is Ambururu Waterfalls Conservancy as it was always meant to be. But this scene was far from guaranteed. A decade of intensified land use had stripped the riverbanks nearly bare.
The reversal began quietly: a few hundred seedlings, a handful of volunteers, a borrowed nursery. Over successive seasons, those seedlings became saplings, and the saplings became canopy. The programme now plants thousands of trees per cycle, sourcing species from local nurseries and training community members as stewards of the restored zones.
Each planting event doubles as a cultural gathering. Elders share stories of the old forest under newly planted trees. Children from local schools learn species identification and soil science. Women's groups manage the nurseries and earn income from their labour. Conservation here is not a project imposed from outside — it grows from within the community, like the trees themselves.
