travelandleisureindia.inpeace of the place, the state of primordial simplicity it put
me in. I loved the volleys of birds that busy the air, and the
outlines of the fishermen punting their canoes. From across
the reedbeds, I caught the cries of waterfowl, and the
distant voices of fishermen, women, and children (many
of whom, I was told, have never seen a motorised vehicle).
“Amazing, isn’t it?” said Stuart Slabbert, the commercial
development manager for African Parks, who had flown
from South Africa to welcome us. Stuart is a soft-spoken
evangelist for the organisation, which uses donor funds to
resuscitate failing or abandoned wildlife parks throughout
the continent. It works like this: African Parks signs an
agreement with a government to take on management of a
park for 20 to 30 years. Where states are weak, African
Parks effectively takes on the role of a regional government,
establishing security, managing the local economy,
promoting education and health care, and working with the
community to minimise human-animal conflict. Luangwa
is the best functioning example of the old model, a state-
controlled park that benefits from engaged private
partners; African Parks, a privately funded organisation
that manages reserves on behalf of state governments,
represents a complete inversion of that structure—and
a possible paradigm for the future of conservation.
Almost 26 million acres in Africa, from Mozambique to
Benin, now fall under the organisation’s control. It has had
some huge successes. Akagera National
Park in Rwanda has been entirely
transformed since 2010, when African
Parks took over management, improving
security and reintroducing key species.
The park has since experienced a 150 per
cent increase in visitors. Malawi’s Majete
Wildlife Reserve was once devoid of
wildlife; now there are lions, leopards,
elephants, and rhinos. In 2017, the reserve
generated more than three crore rupees in
tourist revenue. African Parks is
responsible for similar triumphs in
Chad—where it has opened schools for
1,500 children—the Republic of Congo, and
the Central African Republic.
I asked why African Parks had chosen
Bangweulu. “We wanted an example of
every biome,” Stuart said. When they took
over 10 years ago, fish stocks were in
crisis, and the population of black lechwe,
a type of cream-and-black antelope
endemic to Bangweulu, was tumbling.
“We instituted a fishing ban during the
spawning season, from December to
March,” Stuart explained. “We protectedIn the Bangweulu Wetlands, fishing
communities live cheek-by-jowl
with endangered species.