“Protected areas are protected areas,” says Nadège Nzoyem, WWF’s regional director for the Congo Basin. For her, mining has no place in landscapes that governments have committed to conserve. Yet keeping extractive industries out and ensuring effective protection remain major challenges across the region. A recent analysis by U.S.-based Earth Insight highlights the conflict between conservation commitments and extractive interests. Across the tropical countries examined, the report says, oil and gas blocks overlap across nearly 62 million hectares (153 million acres) of protected and conserved areas. Mining concessions overlap with another 43 million hectares (106 million acres). In the Congo Basin, 29% of identified terrestrial Key Biodiversity Areas remain unprotected. The findings raise questions about where protection is needed and how effective it is against industrial pressures. WWF’s “Living Planet Report 2026” adds to those concerns. It reports an average 80% decline in monitored wildlife population sizes across Africa between 1970 and 2022. The figure is continent-wide, not specific to the Congo Basin. Next week, the global community will meet for the biodiversity COP17 in Armenia, where the urgency of meeting the global 30×30 target puts protected areas under greater scrutiny. Conserving 30% of land and waters by 2030 means more than drawing boundaries, the Earth Insight report argues. It requires effective management, equitable governance, and respect for Indigenous peoples’ and local communities’ rights. Semi-industrial mining at Muchacha along the Ituri River, in the southwestern sector of Okapi Wildlife Reserve in the DRC, has caused deforestation and contamination of water…This article was originally published on Mongabay

Africa’s monitored wildlife populations have declined an average of 80% since 1970, according to a new global assessment. The report also points to pockets of recovery where conservation efforts have been maintained over decades. The report on the decline in the average size of monitored populations was released Oct. 8 in the Living Planet Report 2026. It tracked monitored populations of mammals, birds, fish, reptiles and amphibians between 1970 and 2022. Africa’s 80% decline compares with a global average of 73%; Latin America and the Caribbean recorded the largest regional decline, at 95%. The findings come as governments prepare to assess progress on the Kunming-Montreal Global Biodiversity Framework, whose 23 targets include commitments to halt human-induced extinctions and support the recovery of threatened species by 2030. The framework also calls for conserving at least 30% of the world’s land, inland waters and seas by 2030. The Living Planet Index, managed by the Zoological Society of London in partnership with the World Wide Fund for Nature (WWF), draws on 35,803 population trends from 5,790 vertebrate species worldwide. The index measure changes in the average size of monitored populations, it does not mean that Africa lost 80% of its wild animals or wildlife species, a press release obtained by Mongabay cautions. Habitat destruction and degradation are the most frequently reported pressures on the wildlife populations tracked globally, the report finds. Overexploitation, climate change, pollution, disease and invasive species are among the other threats identified. In the Congo Basin, for example, those pressures…This article was originally published on Mongabay

UNGUJA, Tanzania — Decades before they would partner to build a marine conservation organization together, Ali Thani and Lorna Slade crossed paths in Tanzania. Years later, Slade returned to the East African country researching tourism for her master’s degree when she became involved in an initiative aimed at strengthening the knowledge and rights of local resource stewards. Then came the 2008 global financial crisis. The organization backing the initiative withdrew from Tanzania, providing only a fraction of the funds it had earlier promised — $25,000 — and an idea worth pursuing. “So they said, ‘OK, well, it’s a good idea. We have $25,000, so here you are,’” Slade recalls. That modest beginning would eventually become the Mwambao Coastal Community Network, a locally rooted organization now working with coastal communities across Zanzibar and mainland Tanzania, with an annual budget of around $3.5 million. For Thani, a coastal Tanzanian who had worked in government and with larger conservation organizations, Mwambao grew from a conviction that conservation could not simply be designed elsewhere and brought to communities. People who depend on natural resources, he says, should have the knowledge, capacity, and authority to help manage them. That idea has wider resonance as countries pursue the global goal of conserving 30% of the world’s land and oceans by 2030. Local organizations and communities are expected to shoulder much of that work, even as many struggle to secure the long-term funding available to larger international organizations and intermediaries. Mwambao’s work includes supporting community fisheries management,…This article was originally published on Mongabay

NEW YORK — Long before Dickson Kaelo became one of the leading voices for community conservancies in Kenya, conservation was something much more personal. He grew up with livestock. His father was a veterinarian. And he knew firsthand the uneasy relationship between pastoralist communities and wildlife: Lions killing cattle, elephants destroying crops, hyenas taking goats — sometimes dozens of sheep in a single night. “That’s their (communities’) food. That’s what they sell to get fees to take their children (to school),” Kaelo, a member of Kenya’s semi-nomadic pastoralist Maasai community, told Mongabay. Fresh from college nearly three decades ago, Kaelo began wondering whether there was another way, something between conflict with wildlife and a conservation model that excluded communities from protected areas. Working with elders near the northern Maasai Mara, he helped organize a community trust (an organization created by community members to collectively manage land, resources or revenues for their shared benefit) in 1998. It built dams and dispensaries, supported hundreds of students through scholarships and experimented with generating tourism income while keeping livestock on the landscape. Then it fell apart. While Kaelo was away studying wildlife, the land under the care of the trust was subdivided into individual holdings. He considered abandoning conservation altogether. “One part of me was saying, it’s time to give up and go out to the city and do something,” he recalled. Instead, Kaelo returned to the same landscape with a belief that land could be privately owned but still managed collectively. Between 2004…This article was originally published on Mongabay