African Animals and Nature

I have been to Kenya 25 times, but my first visit was when I was exactly 40 years old. An editor I knew happened to invite me, saying, "I'm going to Kenya, would you like to come?"

At that time, the father of Mr. Kanbe, who was a children's literature author, sent a message through another editor who was in charge of him. He said he was incredibly worried because his son had gone to Africa and hadn't come back. He asked me to go see him and check on how he was doing.

Is that so? (laughs)

That was the first time I met you, Mr. Kanbe, in Nairobi. Since then, I've been hooked on Kenya. I could never forget the emotion of being inside that 360-degree horizon of Africa.

Back then, Nairobi National Park was quite wild; it was an era where giraffes would normally be walking right next to where the planes landed. It has modernized quite a bit now.

It's been about 35 years since then. Mr. Shinoda, how old were you when you first went to Africa?

It was in 2013, when I was 23.

So young. That's nice; I wish I could have gone when I was young.

The first country I went to was South Africa. I went to Kruger National Park for a safari, but we were in a shared van and could only see the animals from a distance.

A so-called tourist safari, right?

That's right. I heard that you could see animals from much closer in Kenya, so I went there the following year.

Was it because you liked animals that you started going?

Since I was a child, I had been looking at Mitsuaki Iwago's photos and National Geographic, and I really loved African animals. I used to watch them at the zoo all the time and always wanted to go see wild animals someday.

Once I went, I got hooked. Since I worked for a company where it was easy to take two or three weeks off, I started frequenting Africa and began taking photos.

Did you always like photography?

I did it as a hobby, but after I started taking serious photos of animals in Africa, I began buying proper equipment. I spent three and a half years working and saving money, pouring every cent into gear and trips to Africa, before I quit my job and decided to make a living as a photographer.

Was there a specific photo that triggered your desire to pursue the path of a photographer?

The first time I thought, "I really captured this," was when I was frantically photographing a single male lion from a pride called "Black Rock" in the Maasai Mara (National Reserve), standing on a rock in the morning glow.

That's cool.

Luckily, that photo won an award in an overseas competition.

There was a one-eyed male lion there, wasn't there?

I wonder if he's still alive.

That lion, named Benna, died last year. Scarface, who was over in the Marsh area, also died last year.

Marsh died after becoming quite frail, didn't he?

Yes. He was already 13 or 14 years old.

That's quite an age. All the animals live self-sufficiently in that great nature. Since I got hooked on safaris, when I invite people to go with me, some ask, "Who feeds them?" (laughs). They think it's just a large version of a safari park.

Mr. Kanbe, you also went to Kenya in your 20s, didn't you?

Yes. When I was 24.

You were already a veterinarian in Japan at that time, right?

That's right. But once I went, I thought I wanted to be a vet in Africa—I wanted to give a lion an injection there.

That's amazing (laughs).

So you gave up on returning and just settled in Africa, didn't you?

Yes. For the first five years or so, I was doing safaris across Africa. I did things like coordinating for Chosuke Ikariya's TV programs. Taking care of one project would provide a fee equivalent to a year's worth of food expenses.

I also hitchhiked across Africa and went down the Nile and Congo Rivers.

Was that around the time you were living with Kiki the chimpanzee?

When I went to the jungle in Congo, I was given a chimpanzee. We lived together after that.

I brought her to Nairobi and left her at the Animal Orphanage, a place that treats and cares for wildlife. It's an orphanage for animals that takes in wandering baby animals whose parents were killed by poachers. I was allowed to work there like a veterinarian, and that's when I thought I wanted to be a vet here. However, my Japanese veterinary license wasn't valid. So I went to university.

How did you get into the university?

Getting into the University of Nairobi was difficult. At the time, the President's daughter, who was the Mayor of Nairobi, called the Vice-Chancellor for me. I was able to get to know the Mayor through a connection with Mr. Kantaro Ogura.

Mr. Ogura was the Nairobi branch manager for JAL at the time, and the person Toyoko Yamasaki wrote about as the protagonist of "The Unbroken Sun," right? He was a hunter, wasn't he?

Yes. I asked him how many elephants he had killed, but he would never tell me.

But he transformed into a wildlife photographer halfway through, didn't he?

Yes. He showed me photos of black-and-white colobus monkeys flying through the air from branch to branch.

Anyway, he spoke to the President's daughter, and she spoke to the Vice-Chancellor of the University of Nairobi. The Vice-Chancellor was so startled he stood at attention and said, "I'll hold a faculty meeting right now" (laughs).

And so, you were able to become a veterinarian.

But it took five years to graduate. I didn't understand English, and my hair started falling out from the stress (laughs).

How was it after you became a vet?

At that time, about 1,500 Japanese nationals were stationed in Kenya, and they kept guard dogs for security. When I opened my practice in Nairobi, I ended up mostly just seeing guard dogs at Japanese households. It felt empty because I had wanted to treat wild animals.

I wanted to do something useful, and then I was told that a clinic in a place called Maji Moto village near the Maasai Mara was vacant and that I should run it. Since then until today, I have been treating cattle and goats there.

Were you able to give a lion an injection?

I was. As for where you inject them, it's the tail. A lion's tail is as thick as a plastic bottle, with veins running along both sides. You insert a thick 19-gauge needle there to draw blood. For an intramuscular injection, you just smoothly prick the psoas major muscle in the hind leg.

The environment has changed in many ways during the 50 years you've been in Kenya, hasn't it? CITES regulations have become stricter, for example.

Wildlife has gradually decreased. Especially due to poaching for ivory and rhino horn. Even the Grevy's zebra, with its beautiful stripes, has now become a rare species.

Zebras used to be everywhere, didn't they?

That's right. In Indian souvenir shops, stuffed zebras were piled high.

The President banned all animal hunting within Kenya in 1977. And the international trade in ivory was banned in 1989. Until then, ivory was sold aggressively, and Japan in particular was a destination for smuggling.

Even after various countries ratified CITES, poaching increased, and the number of elephants across Africa dropped to about one-tenth. So now, there is a sense of crisis regarding endangered animals both in Kenya and Japan.

It's currently a problem that China is buying large quantities of ivory, isn't it?

Yes. Also, as farms and towns increase, the habitats for wildlife decrease, and both carnivores and herbivores are declining. Wildlife is decreasing by as much as the human population increases.

There are also cases where a single species increases disproportionately, right?

When zebras increase, gazelles might decrease. In Lake Nakuru National Park, which is entirely fenced in, at first, antelope-like bovids called waterbucks increased, then they became smaller antelope species, and as those decreased, large buffalo are now increasing.

I don't know how the ecosystem inside the enclosure is changing, but the wild situation shifts due to things like an increase in parasites or infectious diseases caused by viruses.

It's said that flamingos have also decreased, but did they just move?

There used to be a million flamingos, but now there are probably only two or three thousand. I believe it's because the rising lake water became too acidic, the algae they fed on decreased, and it became uninhabitable for them.

The surrounding acacia forests have all turned into blackened, dead trees.

They look like skeletons. Since the algae called spirulina that flamingos eat disappeared, I think they flew off somewhere else.

As a result, various animal sanctuaries have been established within Kenya. One sanctuary can be as large as a Japanese prefecture, and the larger ones are about the size of Shikoku. In the past, you could enter freely off-road, but by the time you went, Mr. Shinoda, the rules must have become quite strict, right?

That's true. Compared to South Africa, Kenya still feels a bit more relaxed, but off-road driving is strictly regulated. Also, with groups like the Cheetah Project and the WWF (World Wide Fund for Nature) operating locally, I can feel a movement to properly protect endangered species like rhinos.

Rules have become stricter, such as having to maintain a certain distance from the animals.

There is also a movement to restrict balloons because they frighten the animals.

They do make a tremendous noise.

Exactly. Mr. Shinoda, did you ride in a balloon?

I haven't ridden one yet.

When you look at them from below, there's nothing more annoying because they're so loud. However, when you actually ride one, it's surprising. First of all, you can clearly see the animal trails. It looks like a map of Paris. High termite mounds serve as landmarks, with paths radiating out from them, and seeing jackals or gazelles walking along them is truly fascinating.

You can see bird nests in the treetops from directly above. It's like a forbidden view (laughs). It feels wonderful to drift along with the air through the morning mist.

In the Maasai Mara, dozens of balloons rise from various lodges all at once around 5:00 AM.

Landing is exciting when there's wind because it's a hard landing. The basket tips over and gets dragged, there are lions around, and you never know exactly where you'll land.

The scenery and the expressions of the animals in the savannah change depending on the season and the time of day. Mr. Shinoda, what are the challenges and joys of photography for you?

One of the reasons I started photography was that I had long felt a sense of not being able to truly feel like I was alive. I felt there were very few moments in my daily routine where I could sense the essence of life.

When you're in an environment like Japan, there really aren't any.

When I first went to Kenya, I became friends with a boy about my age in a Maasai village. He told me he would roast a goat to welcome me. I assumed he would roast pre-cut meat, but he skewered a whole goat on a branch and roasted it whole.

That's quite a welcome. It's a feast.

People from all around gathered together. That sort of thing made me feel that "life is close." It's the same when watching wild animals. I find it incredibly fascinating to be able to feel life so closely.

So you want to take photos that capture life and convey that to others.

It's often said nowadays that young people in Japan aren't interested in going abroad. I wonder why that is.

I was the same way, but it might be because we've watched nature documentaries on TV since we were children and feel like we already know it, or because information is so accessible.

But when I went there with the feeling that I already knew it from seeing animals in zoos, it felt like I'd been punched—it was completely different. Even the sparkle in the animals' eyes is totally different.

Like seeing a lion tear out a prey's internal organs right in front of you.

When I first went to Kenya intending to make a living as a photographer, a young cheetah made a kill and caught a gazelle. Because it was young, it couldn't kill it instantly and started eating it from the rear while it was still alive.

The gazelle kept crying out while the cheetah ate its organs, and it slowly died. Seeing the moment life vanished right before my eyes was very shocking to me...

Because you're seeing it directly and up close. I once saw a lion catch and eat a female warthog, and a fetus came out of her belly. Then the lion ate it happily...

It's soft and delicious, I suppose.

Humans can empathize with the lion or the prey; we can empathize with both. So we might feel sorry for the prey, or feel sorry for the lion if it fails a hunt. But that's how they've all lived for hundreds of years through self-sufficiency.

For example, zebra herds are always full of energy. That's because there is constant generational turnover. If they get old, sick, or injured, they are all eaten by lions. In a sense, they entrust all their "elderly care issues" to the lions, allowing the zebra herd to remain healthy. People talk about the survival of the fittest, but it also makes you feel the resilience of herbivores.

Mr. Kanbe, you've had many extraordinary experiences. Like anesthetizing elephants and rhinos to move them from one sanctuary to another. Does moving dozens of elephants as a whole herd actually work out well?

Those are relocation operations by the KWS (Kenya Wildlife Service) to prevent poaching. It's difficult. Some die along the way, and there's the question of whether they can adapt properly to the new land after being released. Since 200 kilometers is a walkable distance for them, some try to return and end up dying in traffic accidents or being shot along the way.

Is it actually possible for humans to control nature through conservation and relocation?

I suppose we have no choice but to believe it's possible. People in the West donate money for fuel and anesthesia. In return, Kenyans do various things for animal conservation.

There are issues with the conservation system within Kenya. Over 30 years ago in Meru, the last six white rhinos were being protected by rangers. However, a superior was bribed by an Arab prince, and while the rangers were sent away on assignment, all six were killed.

Is that kind of internal corruption unavoidable when there is such inequality? The same goes for poaching. What should be done about poaching for money, like ivory, versus traps for bushmeat (meat from wild animals)? As awareness of coexistence with wildlife grows, will inequality disappear and will people start following the rules? There's also the aspect that having animals brings in foreign currency.

It seems those things aren't easily understood. However, there are many Kenyans now who advocate for animal conservation and say poachers are wrong. Basically, there are many people who love animals, and I think we are gradually moving toward protecting them.

In 2017, Dr. Richard Leakey (who passed away this January), an anthropologist and former head of the KWS, built a railway right through the middle of Nairobi National Park with Chinese aid. Everyone was disappointed that Dr. Leakey, the very person who led the call to protect wildlife, lost out to China's Belt and Road Initiative.

There was an opposition movement before it was built, but once it was finished, it gained a reputation for being convenient for going to Mombasa. It's difficult to balance the economy of a nation with fostering the awareness of wanting to protect and coexist with animals.

I used to appear on a radio program called "Children's Telephone Consultation Room," and the question that stumped me most was from a child who asked, "You say we should protect tigers and elephants, but is there anyone who would actually be in trouble if they disappeared?" After all, locally they can be pests, and in India, tigers that attack fields are dangerous. How do you think I should have answered?

I suppose it would be something about the balance of the ecosystem.

One can explain the ecosystem, the forests, and the relationship between plants, herbivores, and carnivores. But that doesn't easily connect to "why we must protect them."

In other words, even if we say it's a good thing to coexist with wildlife as if it's obvious, for example, in Japan, if Japanese macaques appear and ravage fields, or if bears appear and people get injured, they are culled immediately. On the other hand, it could lead to the question of whether we would still say "protect the leopard" if a local person in Africa were bitten by one.

Humans have lived alongside wild animals, and utilizing them was part of human culture. For example, carvings intricately made from ivory are hard yet resistant to cracking. In that sense, it's an amazing material that has produced great art. This can be seen as a matter of quantity; it could actually be supplied by ivory from elephants that died naturally. But the problem is that there are people who kill them because they want what's right in front of them.

So, all ivory trade is banned. Consequently, if someone in Japan dies now and there's an old ivory product among their belongings, it can't be sold and is thrown away, so it doesn't remain. Without the part about "for what purpose and how," we can't answer the question of who suffers if the tigers disappear.

Mr. Kanbe, I think your 50 years of experience is something Japanese people haven't experienced. What are your thoughts on this?

The Maasai coexist quite well. The Maasai say that even if there's a lion nearby, it's fine as long as they aren't eaten. That kind of idea of coexistence existed throughout Kenya, or rather, throughout Africa. It would be good if society could return to that.

But there are places like vast plantations divided by barbed wire where landlords still exist, right? So that's ultimately a problem of economic or social structure.

Mr. Shinoda, have you ever stayed in a Maasai settlement?

I've stayed at a Maasai friend's house, but it was made of stone. Originally, the Maasai were nomadic, so there weren't many stone houses, but they seem to be increasing lately.

That's because the government is promoting settlement policies. Otherwise, it's hard to collect taxes.

That's true. I've only been visiting for about eight years, but I think the number of houses with fences has increased significantly in the last few years.

As Dr. Kanbe mentioned earlier, I feel that among the younger generation of Maasai, there's an increasing number of people who want to protect animals with affection, also seeing them as a tourism resource. For my Maasai friend's grandfather's generation, stories of how many lions they killed with a spear were tales of bravery.

Because that was a necessary ritual to become a Maasai warrior.

As you said, conservancies where the local people manage the area themselves are increasing in the Maasai Mara. There are several in my neighborhood as well.

Also, when people from elsewhere like us are happily involved in animal conservation, it seems to motivate them too. There are often programs where huts are built and students go there to experience being like a ranger. Even Japanese university students joyfully do this during their summer vacations.

It would be great if the value of coexisting and cherishing such things as a global standard spreads among young people.

In the past, defeating a Simba (lion) was done as a rite of passage for a warrior, wasn't it?

They still do it.

How is the compromise between such traditional culture and the current situation?

The Maasai themselves might be conflicted. But to begin with, the Maasai don't have the feeling of wanting to kill animals just because they are pests.

Because defeating a lion is proof of becoming an adult.

Nowadays, the number of lions and the Maasai population are out of balance. Since nine is a lucky number for the Maasai, if nine people kill one lion, it is considered that everyone killed a lion. Whether it is 19 or 29 people, if they kill one lion, they say, "I killed a lion," and that is how they pass the ritual.

In areas close to Nairobi, there are regions where lions have been hunted out and no longer exist. In those cases, they spear a lion skin and call it a success.

This means the Maasai warriors themselves are losing their pride in protecting their families from lions. However, since modernization is progressing, I suppose that is unavoidable.

Lately, the Maasai have mobile phones, but I was surprised to hear that everyone is wearing masks now. In such a wide-open space.

Another thing is that the changing seasons have become strange due to recent environmental changes; for example, the migration routes of wildebeests are changing, aren't they?

I haven't been able to see the wildebeest migration properly; even when I go when I'm told it's the right time, I feel like the discrepancy is getting larger every year.

In 2019, it rained so much that the rivers flooded, and even at the camp where I was staying, about two tents were washed away. I don't know if it's due to climate change, but I do hear the local people saying, "This has never happened before."

Before that, there was a terrible drought. Then, that year, the river flooded during the wildebeest migration. There were so many wildebeest carcasses, and it smelled for a long time.

It's incredible, the way the bodies bloat with gas. Crocodiles love wildebeests, don't they? When Mr. Kanbe first saw the wildebeests crossing and saw a crocodile tearing one apart, he said, "What a horrible creature, I'm going to get revenge on that crocodile."

It doesn't help with wildlife conservation, but I did go for revenge. I threw stones at it. I thought it might suddenly leap up and attack me, but it just ran away.

But if the crocodile doesn't eat, it will die too, right? Is it okay to take sides?

It can't be helped. It's because I have an attachment.

It's life and death right in front of your eyes. For example, when a small animal like a Thomson's gazelle gives birth, it ends up giving birth to food for predators like lions. Moreover, she herself is attacked immediately after giving birth.

Far off on the horizon, a hippo is sleeping during the day. When you go closer to see why it's there at that time, vultures are sticking their heads inside its body and eating its internal organs. That really stinks.

It really is a terrible smell.

But that is exactly the profound emotion of life; it's just the normal scenery there.

I used to work for a consulting firm, and when considering new businesses, keywords like "environmentally friendly" or "clean" tended to be the focus, but I think the best thing is for people to go to Africa and see for themselves. In Japan, even animal programs tend to be superficial, just saying "how cute."

I really want people to go there to see the various aspects. I feel very strongly that I can't easily talk about things like animal protection. I think knowing these things is the first step.

Mr. Shinoda, I'm sure you've taken many photos of lions devouring their prey, but you don't include them much in your photo books. Is the focus on cute scenes, like lion parents and cubs, the intention of the editor? Or is it your own intention?

It's both. I want to show elementary and junior high school students that lions are not just cute, nor are they just scary, but that they have many different sides. When I look at a lion family, there are many times I think they are truly the same as humans. However, there is also the reality that bloody scenes are difficult to display in bookstores.

Seeing it in print is completely different from seeing it in person. Even with the same scene, a photo can be scarier or more disgusting. When you see it in front of you, it's just a natural occurrence.

Mr. Kanbe, you've encountered quite a few dangerous situations in Africa. Even now, dangerous places in Africa are still dangerous, aren't they?

In countries with political instability, people are dying.

Currently, Kenya is said to be relatively stable politically, but even so, Mr. Kanbe, you are always prepared to escape at a moment's notice, aren't you?

If I'm chased, I just cross the border. Then, I have to go to that country's consul and get help.

Mr. Shinoda, have you ever had a scary experience?

In Africa, I try to stay away from cities as much as possible. When I first went, there was a time when I absolutely had to walk through downtown Nairobi alone at night, and that was truly terrifying.

I hurried back to the hotel as if I were escaping. During my four-day stay, I heard warning shots three times. However, it's safe if you go to the countryside, so it's completely different depending on the location.

It really is different. Once, when Mr. Kanbe showed me around a slum, he told me not to wear anything that could be stripped off—whether it's a watch or jewelry, don't wear anything that can be torn away—and to go prepared so that it wouldn't matter where I was touched.

Conversely, the person who gets things taken is also at fault. It's wrong to bring things that those who have nothing would want. He said that is the minimum rule and etiquette.

Yes, it's taken for granted that you take from the rich. All foreigners are rich.

If you don't know that, it's shocking, but the Japanese sensibility is a bit off. That rule applies not only to Nairobi but to many places around the world.

I used to travel with a backpack while reading "Chikyu no Arukikata" (The Globe-Trotter's Guide), but the information listed there about which places are dangerous—sometimes when you actually go there, those places aren't dangerous, and somewhere else is. That does happen.

You don't really know until you can grasp it with your gut instinct.

Mr. Shinoda, do you spend most of your time in the Maasai Mara when you are in Kenya?

Yes. I spend a long time in the Maasai Mara. The pride of lions at Black Rock that I've been following has had a change in leadership, and the pride is starting to split. I also have information that a male has become independent and is likely to get into a fight with other males.

To protect the pride, male lions are sometimes driven out. I think that was probably the best way to protect the pride throughout their long history of survival. Females often stay near the pride, but they also split off as their numbers increase.

Prides are fluid, and males might belong to several prides at once. I find it interesting that they don't have clear rules like humans do.

That changes depending on the amount of prey or if the number of migrating animals decreases. If there is no food, the young are the first to die. If they weaken even a little, there are plenty of hyenas and others waiting around them.

Even for a lion, if the mother goes far away to hunt, the cubs might be eaten in the meantime. It's a harsh reality.

Lion cubs and cheetah cubs are hunted quite often. Lions sometimes attack cheetah cubs too. It feels less like they are attacking to eat and more like they are attacking because they are simply in the way.

It's not just the law of the jungle; it's a feeling of "all meat, all eaten," where everyone gets eaten if they let their guard down—a phrase that was trending online a while ago. I think that is the natural state of things, like an orderless order.

So-called established theories are circulated too much. Like, "a pride of lions is always like this." Instead, the reality on the ground is truly flexible and changes freely.

The relationship between herbivores and plants also involves many things, like the rainy and dry seasons, being too dry or having too much rain. Only humans try to apply pressure to nature to make it stay the same all the time. We pave roads or spray water with sprinklers.

It's not just lions eating zebras; zebras or giraffes might eat birds, and even lions eat the undigested plants inside a zebra's stomach. There are truly all kinds of relationships.

African people also want to increase their population and prosper. They also long for a modern lifestyle.

That's true all over the world. Right now, protecting animals as a tourism resource is one way to become wealthy. Conversely, if tourists stop coming, wildlife will be discarded. I think that dilemma exists.

In any case, because Africa faces so many challenges, I think it provides an opportunity to think about many things. In that sense, I want people to see Africa. I think finding animals cute is one of the starting points for life, just like finding a baby cute, but from there it expands, and you can see various relationships regarding coexistence.