Potato thieves and bean raiders: The Monkey Mafia of Ukwala

The sun scorches over Siaya town, its heat bouncing off the tarmac as motorbikes weave noisily through the streets.

I thread my way past small kiosks and mechanics' workshops, asking for directions until I finally spot the gate of the Kenya Wildlife Service (KWS) offices.

Unlike the bustle outside, the compound is calm. A few rangers sit lazily under a tree's shade, their khaki uniforms blending into the dusty background.

Others are in a rush, leaping onto a waiting Land Rover that growls impatiently before speeding off.

I sign into the visitors' book and explain my mission: a complaint from my uncle and farmers in Ukwala village about monkeys that have become more than a nuisance.

The ranger's eyes light up. "You came at the right time," he says, almost excited.

"Our bosses are already headed to Lifunga to meet the assistant chief and farmers. They've been complaining a lot about these monkeys; they called the KWS for a barasa."

Within minutes, calls are made. I find myself on a boda boda heading to Ndere, where the KWS officers wait outside the police station. Their Land Rover, dusty and imposing, is my new ride.

The journey is hurried, the vehicle jolting and bouncing as though flying over the rough road. We stop several times to ask for directions—Lifunga is off the beaten track.

The homes around are covered in trees and green vegetation, and the people are very willing to help strangers find their way.

Finally, under the shade of a tamarind tree, surrounded by bushes, we find them: a gathering of men and women, most elderly, with a few younger men and children sprinkled among them.

Their faces brighten when they see the Land Rover. To them, this is not just an official visit—it is hope.

Plastic chairs are set out, and we take our seats. Assistant Chief Henry Oduor Yore of Simuur Sub-location in Ugenya stands up to welcome everyone.

"Thank you, madam, for coming, we welcome you," he says to KWS Warden in Charge Sheila Ochieng', who arrives accompanied by Elizabeth Mwikali.

"The previous week we had again gathered under this tamarind tree, our conversation and cries to me as the chief was the monkey menace.

After that I took upon myself and went to report the matter to the KWS offices in Siaya. I need a solution for my villagers," he explains as he ushers in the village elders to speak.

This area is not new to the KWS officers. Before, they had been called to Owino Odipo's home where a leopard had attacked and killed 11 of his sheep.

The complaints flow easily, each more disheartening than the last. Josephine Aoko Madede, the host village elder of Lifunga, speaks first:

"What we really wanted has reached here," she says, referring to the KWS officers. "Monkeys have been a menace in this village, we are tired. When we plant potatoes, monkeys eat all of them. When we plant maize, monkeys eat all of them.

Right now, I am an old woman, I want my grandchildren home with me to eat my farm produce, but monkeys come in the farm and basically break things. They enter people's homes and even eat food that has already been cooked."

Her frustration is palpable as she continues: "Everything, even guavas are not spared. They even destroy the mangoes on trees, bite and leave. I used to go to the market, I stopped because every time I leave home, I come back and find everything is spoiled."

Village elder John Ondor Odipo of Lifunga B echoes her sentiments: "These monkeys are really a menace. This is one animal with very peculiar habits. It's very annoying—you could be serving your visitors and it just comes in and grabs it. You can plant very well, hoping to get 20 korogos of maize only for them to ripen for monkeys to eat all of it. There's no food despite our place being so green."

The stories multiply. Farmer Stephen Obare Rakula explains: "They live in this area everywhere, every tree is just monkeys. You meet them on the roads, and the farmers farming here don't see the yields of their own produce. When they are chased from one home, they move to the other."

Lilian Atieno's voice carries particular anguish: "The moment you plant and they start sprouting, monkeys dig them up and eat. Monkeys even catch our chickens. There is a time we had decided that we will go for protests because KWS doesn't want to help us. There is no way we can educate our children because the money we ought to be getting from selling our produce—we did not realise any harvest from last season."

Maurice Madede, a 24-year-old farmer, represents the frustration of younger generations: "When it's time to harvest, there's nothing I can get. I spend more time in my farm because if I leave, the monkeys do more harm. People my age are out here doing jua kali so they can eat. I have decided to do agriculture because it's my passion."

Antony Ochieng Madede, a father of three, had to quit his job in Mombasa to guard his farm.

"Last season I had produced seven bags of maize, this season I have only produced one bag," he says, disappointed and frustrated. He witnessed a monkey taking a freshly laid egg from his chicken outside his kitchen.

The disrespect shown to women particularly troubles the community. "The male monkeys are disrespectful—they don't even fear women. They look at women as something not to run from as they try to scare them away," explains Jennifer Odipo.

Sheila Ochieng, the KWS Warden in Siaya County, addresses the gathering.

"Our mandate is conserving and managing wildlife in Kenya and to also enforce the laws and regulations of conservation as well as protecting people's property and the wildlife itself. Wildlife belongs to the community. When we are here, we are agents of conservation, we are mediators between you and the animals."

She explains the immediate challenges: "Monkeys fall under primates. Unfortunately, there is no compensation because the government knows that this is an animal that cannot be managed."

However, she offers practical solutions: "When you plant your farm, you also plant thorny trees around your farm as fence. You can use used oil and mix with pepper and smear on the trees. When planting, take the seeds, mix with grinded pepper and plant—monkeys can't eat something once they smell and find it smelling funny."

She warns pregnant women to avoid these areas: "Monkeys are disrespectful to women. We urge pregnant women not to be walking around in these areas because it will attack them because according to monkeys, the pregnant women are carrying their children."

She urges the community to report cases as she also reads them KWS Siaya office emergency contact. 

According to the National Wildlife Census 2021 Report, the country is home to 19 to 24 different species of monkeys and other primates, depending on classification.

Twelve Old World monkey species are found in Kenya, from the playful vervet monkeys and olive baboons to colobus monkeys and the lesser-known Sykes monkey. Kenya's forests and farmlands are alive with chatter, shrieks, and mischief.

But as human settlements expand and forests shrink, these once-distant relatives are edging closer into villages and farms—sometimes too close for comfort.

The vervet monkey (Chlorocebus pygerythrus)—common across Kenya's savannahs and villages like those in Lifunga—is a seasonal breeder.

Their reproductive cycle is closely tied to rainfall and food abundance. During the breeding season, males may mate multiple times a day, especially the dominant ones.

Females typically produce one infant per pregnancy, often every one to two years, depending on conditions. Births usually coincide with the rainy season, when fruits, leaves, and insects are plentiful.

This reproductive pattern explains the rapid population growth that farmers in Siaya are experiencing, making management particularly challenging.

Siaya County is not alone in battling the monkey menace. Murang'a County government has declared an all-out war against mischievous animals with a programme dubbed 'Tafuta Tumbili' to capture marauding monkeys.

In Nyeri county, monkeys are wreaking havoc on crops, forcing farmers to come up with innovative solutions, including contraptions designed to trap scores of vervet monkeys.

In Kitui County's arid and semi-arid lands, farmers have long struggled with food and nutrition security, partly due to crop damage by wild animals including monkeys.

The worst-affected areas for human-wildlife conflict include Tsavo, the Mara, Kajiado, and Laikipia counties, while Kwale County communities have voiced concerns over increasing human-animal conflict near national parks and game reserves.

The Kenya Institute of Primate Research (KIPRE), through the Kenya Institute of Primate Research Bill 2024, is being formally anchored in law as a Semi-Autonomous Government Agency.

The Parliamentary Committee for Health, in collaboration with KIPRE, has been working on developing this legislation. KIPRE has been a trailblazer in biomedical research since 1958, operating under the Ministry of Health's State Department for Public Health and Professional Standards.

While KIPRE focuses primarily on biomedical research and vaccine development, it also works on conservation strategies for endangered nonhuman primates, including De Brazza monkeys, Tana River colobus monkey, and crested mangabey.

Richard Obanda, a conservationist and former KWS officer, provides broader context: "People need to sit together and work together. We cannot claim that we have monopoly over solutions and ideas. The community can give their input—it may be a simple solution, it may be a big solution."

He warns about feeding wildlife: "The moment we start feeding monkeys, that is the first mistake. In conservation, rule number one, wildlife should remain wild. Do not encourage or feed them."

Obanda emphasises the complexity of human-wildlife coexistence: "The government is not wrong in saying we should coexist with wildlife, but you must strike a balance between coexistence. It has to be a win-win situation."

As the meeting concludes, the challenges remain complex. The community walks away not satisfied as they had expected the KWS to take their monkeys with them.

Yet the solution requires more than just removing monkeys. As Chief Yore noted, the community needs sustainable approaches that allow both humans and wildlife to thrive.

The KWS officers promise follow-up visits and traps for dominant males, but long-term success will depend on community cooperation and innovative approaches to human-wildlife coexistence.

As we prepare to leave Lifunga, the clouds already prepapring to rain, the farmers pack their plastic chairs with cautious hope.

For the first time in months, their voices have been heard by those with the authority to act. Whether that will translate into fewer destroyed crops and more food on their tables remains to be seen.

The monkeys, oblivious to human bureaucracy and conservation policies, will likely return tomorrow. But today, at least, a community has made its case for survival in a world where the line between human needs and wildlife conservation grows ever thinner.