Our forests stand as both sentinels and storytellers. They hold within their roots the wisdom of generations, the pulse of biodiversity, and the breath of a nation that has long understood their sacredness. Today, on the International Day of Forests, we do not merely mark a date; we answer the call of the trees.

A History Written in Bark and Leaves

Before Kenya had borders, before the first road carved through the wild, there were the forests. The Kaya forests of the Mijikenda people stood as sacred grounds, each tree a guardian, each clearing a council chamber of ancestors. In the highlands, the Mau, Aberdare, and Mount Kenya forests bore witness to the struggles and triumphs of the past—from the resistance of the Mau Mau fighters who found refuge beneath their branches to the communities that have drawn life from their depths for centuries.

These forests were never merely landscapes; they were living, breathing archives of our history. But history is not just something we remember—it is something we shape.

The Unique Green Crown of Kenya

Kenyan forests are unlike any other. They house towering cedars and ancient fig trees, the same trees that form bridges between the living and the departed in indigenous folklore. The lush montane forests are biodiversity hotspots, home to species found nowhere else on Earth—the elusive bongo antelope, the striking colobus monkey and birds whose songs are etched in the wind.

And yet, their uniqueness is not just in what they contain but in what they offer. These forests breathe life into our cities, filtering the air we inhale. They hold our water in their arms, cradling the rivers that feed our homes. They regulate the rains, whispering to the clouds to gather, to pour, to nourish.

The Montane Giants: Mount Kenya, Aberdare, and Mau Forests

Mount Kenya Forest, draped around the slopes of the country’s highest peak, is a sanctuary of life. It is the wellspring of rivers such as the Tana and Ewaso Ng’iro, lifebloods of countless communities. Here, ancient cedar and podo trees rise to the skies, and endangered species like the mountain bongo seek refuge in the undergrowth. This forest is not just a home for wildlife—it is Kenya’s water tower.

The Aberdare Forest, rugged and wild, is a fortress of biodiversity. Waterfalls thunder through its ravines, feeding rivers that quench the thirst of Nairobi. Its thick canopy shelters elephants, leopards, and rare bird species, and its conservation is crucial not only for wildlife but for millions who depend on the clean water it provides.

Mau Forest, the largest indigenous forest in East Africa, is the unsung hero of Kenya’s climate resilience. It regulates rainfall, mitigates floods, and ensures that Lake Victoria—Africa’s largest lake—continues to sustain livelihoods. But Mau has been scarred by deforestation, its lands cleared for agriculture and settlement. Restoring it is not just an environmental duty—it is a national imperative.

The Coastal Gem: Arabuko Sokoke

On the shores of the Indian Ocean, where the monsoon winds weave through ancient baobabs, the Arabuko Sokoke Forest stands as Africa’s most significant coastal dry forest. Home to the rare golden-rumped elephant shrew and endemic Sokoke scops owl, this forest is a biodiversity hotspot. Beyond its wildlife, it protects the coastline from erosion and plays a vital role in maintaining the delicate balance of Kenya’s marine ecosystems. Its disappearance would send ripples far beyond its borders.

The Sacred Groves: The Kaya Forests

Nestled within Kenya’s coastal belt, the Kaya Forests are more than trees—they are shrines, carrying the spiritual and cultural heritage of the Mijikenda people. Each Kaya is a sacred space, safeguarded by elders who hold knowledge passed through generations. These forests stand as symbols of harmony between people and nature, a reminder that conservation is not a new science but an ancient practice.

The Last Glimpses: Kakamega Rainforest

In the west, where Kenya meets Uganda, lies the Kakamega Forest—the last remnant of the great Guineo-Congolian rainforest that once stretched across Central Africa. This emerald haven is home to butterflies in their thousands, colobus monkeys leaping between trees, and medicinal plants whispered about in folklore. It is a genetic vault, holding answers to ecological mysteries yet to be unraveled. Yet, like many others, it faces relentless pressure from human encroachment.

A Forest’s Plea: The Urgency of Conservation

But what have we done with this inheritance? The trees that once stood unshaken now fall to the hum of chainsaws. The rivers that once ran clear now carry the weight of our neglect. The spaces that were once sacred now shrink before the march of concrete and greed.

Yet, all is not lost. Across Kenya, voices rise in defiance of deforestation. Indigenous communities continue their role as stewards, teaching that conservation is not an act of charity but an act of survival. Young activists, armed with saplings and knowledge, are reclaiming the land. Organizations and individuals alike plant trees—not merely as symbols, but as lifelines.

The forests call to us. Will we listen?

What We Must Do

We stand at a crossroads. We can either be the generation that watched the forests disappear or the generation that brought them back to life. The choice is ours, and the actions are many:

  • Support reforestation initiatives like the Green Belt Movement.
  • Learn from indigenous conservation practices, for they are rooted in centuries of wisdom.
  • Advocate for policies that protect our forests rather than exploit them.
  • Plant trees—not just in the countryside, but in our cities, in our schools, in our homes.
  • Reduce, reuse and rethink our consumption, because sustainability is not a trend; it is a necessity.

A Forest’s Song: Our Collective Responsibility

On this International Day of Forests, let us not simply commemorate; let us commit. Let us stand beneath the trees and remember that they are more than wood and leaves. They are history. They are life. They are the quiet guardians of a future that is still within our power to protect.

The forests are speaking. The question is: will we answer?