My Week In Africa: A Legacy of Inspiration from Two Conservation Heroes
Recently, the world lost legendary primatologist and environmental activist Dr. Jane Goodall, who is being mourned worldwide. The passing, in the same week, of conservation leader Omar Abdallah Juma, who worked with communities on Kenya’s small islands, did not make headlines. But a few years ago, by a stroke of luck, I encountered both of them in the span of just a few days—and to this day, I am inspired by the passion and leadership they shared.
Dr. Jane Goodall, a pioneer in her field and for women in science, left a remarkable legacy. Her findings challenged our understanding of our own species with groundbreaking discoveries about chimpanzees’ behavior, notably their use of tools—something science had previously considered the exclusive domain of humans. She spent her life advocating for the protection of nature. When she passed away at 91, she was on a speaking tour.
The mood at Seacology was already somber when we got the news about Dr. Goodall, because we had just learned of Omar Abdallah Juma’s death. Though he had a far smaller public profile, Juma’s impact on Kenya’s Wasini Island was profound for the local people. For his long commitment to preserving his island’s marine resources and supporting its residents’ wellbeing, we awarded him the 2020 Seacology Prize.
I was hit particularly hard by the news and immediately remembered my encounters with both conservation heroes six years ago.
Jane Goodall
Omar Abdallah Juma
I had planned to accompany Seacology’s Karen Peterson, who oversees our work in Africa, to several projects in Kenya and Tanzania. My part would be to interview project and community leaders, and produce some content about our work in this fascinating part of the world. But at the last minute, Karen couldn’t go, and offered me the chance to represent Seacology in her place. It was a somewhat intimidating ask, but an opportunity I couldn’t pass up. So I read as much as I could to familiarize myself with the older projects and set out on my first visit to Africa.
After landing in Zanzibar, I checked my email to find that our project partners at Chumbe Island Coral Park had gotten tickets for a nearby fundraiser Dr. Goodall was hosting. It would benefit Roots and Shoots, the nonprofit she founded to mobilize youth to protect the environment and serve their communities. I had seen her speak twice in large venues in the United States, but this was different—an intimate gathering in the country where her groundbreaking work had begun. I’ve never replied to a message faster.
Speaking to a rapt crowd of maybe a hundred local kids, visiting university students, and lucky guests like ourselves, the 85-year-old Goodall recounted her time with the chimpanzees in Gombe National Park, spoke poignantly of the importance of young people in environmentalism and science, and implored all of us to find our place in the struggle for a sustainable future. She was in her element, speaking with a passion and clarity of purpose undiminished by age.
There was a long line to meet Dr. Goodall after the talk, and I didn’t want to delay our driver. But to this day I regret that I didn’t stick around long enough to shake her hand and thank her for the profound impact of her career and her enduring message of hope.
Jane Goodall speaking to an intimate crowd in Zanzibar
Omar Abdallah Juma and colleagues in front of a water cistern
Shortly thereafter I met up with Dishon Murage, Seacology’s field representative for East Africa, and we began traversing the region to meet with more local partners. We boarded a small boat to Wasini Island, where Dishon introduced me to Omar Abdallah Juma.
Serious but friendly and welcoming, Juma exuded leadership as he walked us through his village. He proudly showed us Wasini’s long boardwalk, which lets tourists explore the mangrove forests he’d worked to protect, the large rainwater cisterns Seacology had funded on this arid island, and more. As we talked, families came and went, filling their jugs and canteens with water from tanks he’d helped build. The respect he’d earned from his community—where he had also played a key role in creating and managing the region’s first locally managed marine reserve to protect Wasini’s coral reefs and fisheries—was evident.
Juma spoke candidly about the struggles his people faced to provide for a growing population and counter the ongoing threats to the island’s ecosystems. He fondly remembered his friend, colleague, and fellow Seacology Prize recipient Ali Shaibu Shekue, who sadly had passed away in 2015. Despite the harsh realities of life on Kenya’s rural islands, Juma struck me as optimistic.
Boardwalk shelter built on Wasini Island
Omar Abdallah Juma and Dishon Murage
I left Wasini feeling inspired. I was heartened the following year when our board of directors chose Juma to receive the Seacology Prize—and disappointed that the COVID pandemic prevented us from giving it to him in person. He wrote to us later to congratulate subsequent recipients and to express his support for other Seacology initiatives. Although his efforts focused on one small island off the coast of Kenya, I got the sense that he saw them as part of something larger.
Most recipients of the Seacology Prize work in relative obscurity, and we hope the award brings more attention to their accomplishments. None of them is as famous as Dr. Goodall, but they are clearly part of the same movement she championed. As she invited our small gathering in Zanzibar to do, Omar Abdallah Juma and his fellow recipients have found their part in our shared mission for a healthier planet and a better future for all of its inhabitants.
Joseph Clerici is Seacology’s Communications Director.