Beyond trees: Restoring life in Mount Elgon

Mount Elgon rises like a colossal guardian on Kenya’s western frontier, its slopes veiled in morning mist, its ridges carved by rivers that tumble into valleys below. At dawn, the mountain glows golden, its forests alive with the chatter of birds and the rustle of leaves. For centuries, it has been more than a landmark; it has been a lifeline, a water tower, and a cultural sanctuary for the communities that call it home.

Nestled against its slopes lies Kaptama village, a place where life once unfolded in harmony with nature. Mornings began with barefoot children racing along dusty paths to school, their laughter echoing through the valleys. Rivers sang as they wound through the land, cattle grazed freely across communal pastures, and families lived as though the forest itself was their home. For young Harry Kimtai, those memories remain vivid.

“We thought we lived in the forest,” he recalls with a smile. “Trees were everywhere, settlement was sparse, and nature was our playground. We didn’t even realise that the land we roamed belonged to us; it felt like the whole mountain was ours.”

But as the years passed, the picture changed. Farming expanded, trees were felled, and wildlife retreated deeper into the gazette forest. Rivers that once flowed steadily began to dry during long spells. Soil erosion carved scars into the land, sweeping away maize fields overnight.

“Sometimes you woke up and there was no maize left, the rain had carried away the soil and the crop,” he remembers. “It was heartbreaking because the land that had raised us was suddenly betraying us. We realised too late that we had betrayed it first.”

The decline was not only environmental but cultural. Traditional ceremonies, like circumcision, once relied on forest seclusion.

“Without the trees, there was nowhere for boys to hide. They were confined to homesteads, and that eroded our culture. It was more than just losing trees; it was losing identity,” he explains

Livestock keeping, once communal, became restricted to individual plots. “We lost the communal way of life,” he reflects. “We used to graze animals freely, but now everyone protects their small piece of land. Even the forest, which once sustained us, became contested ground. We were forced to fight for what little remained, and that broke the bonds of community.” Adds the official.

Government restrictions on grazing, combined with failed restoration programs, left large areas bare. Families were forced to adapt—shifting to high-yield crops and coffee farming, while others continued to struggle with land pressure.

Kimtai’s response was practical and visionary. He persuaded his father to shift from maize to coffee, a crop that stabilises soil, and urged neighbours to plant trees along rivers.

“Coffee is better—it protects the land. Maize loosens the soil, but coffee gives the farm strength. I told my father that if we continue with maize, we will lose everything. But with coffee, we can protect the soil, protect our future, and still earn a livelihood.” His rallying cry is sharp.

 “If we don’t restore, we will lose our pride. Pride is not just about wealth—it is about the land that defines us.” This initiated his conservation journey in his community.

His inspiration deepened in 2018 when, as Principal Secretary for Livestock Development, he joined his friend Dr Chris Kiptoo in the Kaptagat Restoration Program.

“I saw the similarities between Kaptagat and Mount Elgon. It made me realise we could replicate that model at home. Watching Kiptoo marshal communities and partners gave me hope. I thought, if they can do it there, why not us? Why not Mount Elgon?” Through Kaptagat, he connected with partners like WWF and began asking: “Why can’t we do something like this in Mount Elgon? Why should our mountain continue to suffer when solutions are within reach?”

When President William Ruto announced the national target of planting 15 billion trees by 2032, Kimtai stepped forward. Drawing from the Kaptagat model, he spearheaded the Mount Elgon Integrated Conservation and Livelihood Improvement Program (I-CLIP).

“I didn’t need to reinvent the wheel. The framework was already proven. I just had to adapt it to Mount Elgon. And I knew that if we succeeded, it would not just be about trees—it would be about reclaiming dignity.” He shares.

Today, Kimtai serves as Principal Secretary at the State Department of Mining, a role that has broadened his perspective on how natural resources must be managed sustainably. Yet his heart remains rooted in Mount Elgon, where he leads I-CLIP as patron. “Mount Elgon I-CLIP means everything. It gives me a chance to engage directly with my community. It’s not just about trees—it’s about empowering people economically while restoring our land. It’s about showing that conservation and livelihoods are not enemies—they are partners.”

For him, restoration is a collective responsibility. He warns against the continued deforestation of forest land for settlement.  

“We must all join hands. Partners, community leaders, professionals—everyone has a role. At the end of the day, it should not be about ‘I did it,’ but ‘we did it.’ That is the difference between failure and success. If we leave it to a few, we will fail. If we all march together, we will succeed. Population is growing, pressure on land is increasing, and without restoration, we will lose both peace and livelihoods. We will fight over land, we will fight over water, and we will lose the very heritage that makes us who we are.”

Instead of focusing on short-term gains, Harry Kimtai believes the future lies in productivity and value addition. He envisions a community where maize is not just harvested and sold raw, but transformed into animal feed, silage, and other products that strengthen food security and generate income. For him, conservation is the foundation of prosperity—fertile soils, reliable rainfall, and sustainable development all depend on it. His vision is not simply about planting trees; it is about reshaping livelihoods and ensuring that innovation and value chains become the backbone of Mount Elgon’s economy.

Kimtai’s legacy is rooted in reclamation and pride. He wants future generations to look back and say there was a time when the land was degraded, but the people of Mount Elgon came together and restored it. His message is clear: the ecosystem sustains identity, dignity, and survival, and without it, even professional success is hollow. For him, the urgency is undeniable. Acting now under the president’s national tree-planting initiative, he sees a chance to reclaim forests, secure water, and safeguard livelihoods. From barefoot runs to school in Kaptama to leading national restoration efforts, his journey embodies the union of personal passion and public duty. His childhood memories of dense forests have become a rallying cry, reminding his community that conservation is not just about trees—it is about people, heritage, and the future they choose to build.

“This is the best time to act. If we succeed, it will be our collective pride—that under this leadership, we reclaimed our land, we restored our forests, and we secured our future.” He concludes with conviction.