Self-taught botanist Said Nyara is, without a doubt, the best tour guide you’ll find in the Tana Delta. But he’s much more than that.
We met him in Ozi, a village on the coastal edge of the delta, and within minutes, it was clear he had an instinctive understanding of the land. Like a human GPS, Said knows exactly where to find every plant species in the region. And it’s not just the flora—he seemed to know every person we encountered by name.
Said is one of many community members confronting the twin crises of ecosystem degradation and climate change—challenges that have plagued the delta for over a decade. These Guardians of the Tana Delta, with the support of Nature Kenya and local authorities, are not only leading conservation and climate adaptation efforts but are also rewriting their own stories through collaboration, resilience, and sustainable livelihoods.
Driven by curiosity, Said has spent his life studying the environment. When he’s not guiding tourists through the delta or training Community Forest Association (CFA) members on conservation, he works as a research assistant, supporting scientists studying the delta’s rich biodiversity.
Today, he leads the Mpozi CFA and coordinates a network of CFAs across the delta. But his defining moment came in 2016 with the enactment of the Forest Conservation and Management Act—a law he saw as a chance to correct historical injustices.
“Forest conservation back then didn’t allow local communities to benefit from these resources. Extracting anything from protected forests was forbidden. People either had to steal—cutting trees for charcoal, poaching wildlife—or remain in poverty,” he explained.
The new law granted communities regulated access to forest resources for activities like ecotourism, beekeeping, herbal medicine, fish farming, and scenic appreciation.
“My focus was local tourism. I knew of so many beautiful places that I wanted people from all over Kenya to experience—guided by the local community,” he said.
When the CFAs were formed, Said, a long-time conservation advocate, naturally became a leader in his locality and the region.
“There’s a migratory corridor for elephants between Tsavo National Park and Ozi. Mostly male elephants stay here, and during mating season, the females migrate from Tsavo East. Once pregnant, they move to Mwaluganje Elephant maternity to give birth,” he explained.
“But there’s more—the river itself, the riverine forests, the beaches, the sand dunes along the coastline, the birds, the diverse wildlife—we have so much to offer.”
One way Said and his group earn from conservation is through ecotourism. Their three-day itinerary takes visitors on breath-taking tours of the Tana River, where they see hippos and countless bird species, explore the mangrove forests and sand dunes, walk the beautiful shorelines, and visit Kipini’s historical sites and museums.
“Kenya has just 5% of its total mangrove forests in the delta, but within that, we have all nine mangrove species—including [mentions a rare species], which is only found in Tanzania’s Rufiji Delta.”
At this point, I wondered when Said would drop an academic signature—et al., perhaps? He seemed like a humanities guy lost in science, yet he spoke with the depth of an accomplished researcher, casually dropping botanical names like old friends—so much so that it felt as though the plants should have been greeting him back.
For two days, we trailed him across the delta, capturing every possible image and video. I could hardly stand my own relentless questions—some naïve, others outright hopeless. But Said took it all in stride. Finally, giving up on annoying or exhausting him, I asked: What’s your greatest fear?
“There’s a plan to grow sugarcane in the delta. I don’t know how successful it will be, but if it happens, this place will change forever.” He fell unusually quiet, staring into the distance before warning us about the shifting tides.
We hopped into our boats and sailed back, each lost in thought. Schoolchildren paddling dugout boats waved at us as they glided by.
“What’s your biggest wish, Said?” I asked.
“If an investor put just five million shillings into our community project, we could build a 30-room sustainable tourist lodge. It would create jobs, bring more guests, and showcase our land to the whole country.”
The sun began to set, casting a golden glow over the dunes. As we watched the day end, we shared our hopes for the Tana Delta.
Here’s to the Guardians of the Tana.