There’s a troubling pattern emerging in Kenya’s approach to conservation, and if we do not speak up now, we will watch our natural heritage disappear one ‘regularisation’ at a time.
Public Petition No 20 of 2025, presented to the National Assembly by Deborah Barasa, Cabinet Secretary for Environment, Climate Change and Forestry, seeks to de-gazette 7,008.66 hectares (17,318.7 acres) of four public forests to regularise long-standing human settlements.
On the surface, it might seem like a compassionate solution to a difficult problem. Look deeper, and you will see it for what it really is: a dangerous precedent that threatens to unravel decades of conservation work.
Let’s be honest about what’s happening here. The Environment Cabinet Secretary is proposing to hand over legal title deeds to people who illegally occupied forest land.
Think about that for a moment. What message does this send to communities living near other forests? That if you invade protected land and wait long enough, the government will eventually reward you with ownership?
This is not about being unsympathetic to landless Kenyans. Their plight is real and deserves genuine solutions. But those solutions cannot come at the expense of our forests.
The government owns substantial land under the Agricultural Development Corporation, specifically designated for food production and settlement. Why are we not settling these claimants there, where they can contribute to food security without destroying ecosystems that took centuries to develop?
The answer, unfortunately, often comes down to political expediency trumping environmental stewardship. And that’s a trade we simply cannot afford to make.
Barasa’s petition does not exist in isolation. Just weeks ago, we watched tragedy unfold in Elgeyo Marakwet, where mudslides claimed at least 37 lives and displaced thousands. Interior Cabinet Secretary Kipchumba Murkomen directly attributed the devastation to years of deforestation and unsustainable farming practices. Families were buried in their sleep as saturated slopes, stripped of the forests that once held them together, collapsed under heavy rains.
This is what forest loss looks like in human terms. Not abstract statistics, but fathers losing six family members in a single night, survivors describing a thunderous sound like a helicopter landing before mud swept their houses away. Studies project that climate change will increase landslide frequency in the Rift Valley by 20 to 30 per cent by 2050. Yet here we are, proposing to de-gazette more forest land.
Where does it end?
Historical injustices are real and must be addressed, but not by creating new injustices against future generations who will inherit a country stripped of its natural wealth. There’s a word for this approach: short-sighted. And there’s a consequence: irreversible environmental degradation.
Every time we hand over a protected area, we are essentially saying that conservation only matters until it becomes politically inconvenient. We are telling our children that their right to clean water, stable climate and rich biodiversity matters less than our inability to find alternative solutions today.
Let’s talk numbers, because they paint a stark picture. Kenya’s forest cover currently stands at a paltry 7.2 per cent, well below the 10 per cent minimum recommended by the Food and Agriculture Organisation. We are not meeting the bar; we’re limping far beneath it.
Yet we have committed to ambitious restoration targets: 5.1 million hectares under the Afri100 and Bonn Challenge initiatives. The Presidential 15 Billion Tree Growing Initiative aims to dramatically increase our tree cover. These are not just feel-good projects. They are essential for our survival in an era of climate crisis.
Now, here’s the absurdity: whilst we are planting trees with one hand, we’re proposing to give away 7,008.66 hectares (17,318.7 acres) of existing forest with the other. That’s the potential loss of 11 million trees that already exist, already providing ecosystem services, already doing the work we need them to do.
You cannot plant your way out of deforestation if you keep cutting down existing forest land. It’s like trying to fill a bucket whilst someone else drills holes in the bottom. The maths simply doesn’t add up.
These aren’t just numbers on government reports. Let me tell you what 7,008.66 hectares actually means for ordinary Kenyans.
It means rivers that will run dry because the forests that regulate water flow are gone. It means communities downstream, often the poorest and most vulnerable, watching their water sources disappear. It means farmers facing even more unpredictable rainfall because we've destroyed the forests that help stabilise our climate.
It means the collapse of water catchment areas that millions depend upon. When you destroy a forest, you are not just removing trees, you are dismantling an entire life-support system. You are sabotaging your own water supply, fragmenting wildlife habitats that underpin our tourism industry and releasing stored carbon that accelerates the very climate crisis already threatening our farmers.
The cruelty is that those who suffer most from these decisions are often ordinary people: the families buried under mudslides in Elgeyo Marakwet, Nairobi residents who endure water rationing whenever dam levels drop.
When our forests vanish, the consequences are not borne by those who authorised their clearance but by mudslide victims who have lost loved ones, homes and livelihoods, by communities downstream whose water sources have dried up, by thousands of city dwellers who face rationing and by farmers whose rainfall patterns become increasingly unpredictable.
Here's something that should concern anyone who believes in the rule of law: this petition directly violates Section 34(2b) of the Forest Conservation and Management Act. That law exists specifically to protect water catchment areas and biodiversity conservation zones, exactly the kind of areas the CS is now proposing to give away.
The government is not just making bad environmental policy; it is undermining its own laws. It is telling Kenyans that legislation protecting our natural heritage can be conveniently set aside when it becomes inconvenient. What is the point of having conservation laws if we will not enforce them when it matters?
Kenya has worked incredibly hard over recent decades to increase forest cover through conservation efforts, community engagement and enforcement of protection laws. We have made progress. Forest cover has gradually increased. We have shown it is possible to reverse the tide of destruction.
Now we stand at a crossroads. Down one path lies the continuation of that hard-won progress, protecting what remains, restoring what we have lost and building a future where our children inherit a country rich in natural capital. Down the other path lies the slow dismantling of our protected areas, one ‘regularisation’ at a time, until there is nothing left to protect.
Public Petition No. 20 of 2025 will determine which path we take. If approved by Parliament, it will signal that protected areas are only protected until someone wants them badly enough. It will confirm that illegal occupation is a viable strategy for acquiring land. It will announce to the world that Kenya’s environmental commitments are worth less than the paper they are written on.
If rejected, it will send a very different message: that some things are non-negotiable, that our forests are not bargaining chips in political negotiations and that we are serious about securing our environmental future.
The frustrating thing is that alternatives exist. They are just not being seriously pursued because forest land is easier to give away than finding genuine solutions.
The Agricultural Development Corporation holds substantial land suitable for settlement and food production. Settling forest claimants there would address their legitimate needs whilst advancing food security goals. It’s a solution that creates winners on all sides, except it requires more effort than simply signing away forest land.
Other government land exists that does not carry the ecological significance of our forests. Industrial land, degraded agricultural land, and land in areas with adequate rainfall and infrastructure. These are the places where settlement should be happening, not in our precious water catchment areas.
But this requires political will, careful planning and potentially more resources. It requires leaders who are willing to make the harder choice because it’s the right choice.
To the honourable members of the National Assembly: this petition will test whether you are legislators or merely vote counters, whether you are statesmen or politicians chasing the next applause line.
The politics are obvious. Approving this will win gratitude from beneficiaries and headlines about solving landlessness. But governance demands more than popularity. It demands the courage to look beyond immediate political reward and ask: what are the long-term consequences?
You have all the evidence you need. The science is clear: we are already below the minimum forest cover. The law is explicit: Section 34(2b) prohibits exactly what this petition proposes.
The alternatives exist: government land that can settle claimants without destroying water catchment areas. The only question is whether you will allow yourselves to be swayed by emotional appeals and political pressure, or whether you will exercise the informed judgement your office demands.
I call on the National Assembly to reject Public Petition No. 20 of 2025. Let this be the moment when it chose sound policy over political theatre, when you chose Kenya’s future over fleeting approval. Show us, and show the world, that Kenya’s Parliament is capable of making the hard choices that true leadership demands.
Executive Director, Nature Kenya – the East Africa Natural History Society
