In villages around Nigeria’s Afi Mountain Wildlife Sanctuary, women are taking conservation into their own hands.
Across communities including Ulom, Buanchor and Katabang, women’s collectives are patrolling forests and rivers, investigating hunting, logging, wildfires and pollution, and pushing traditional leaders to punish offenders.
The sanctuary, gazetted in 2000, covers 39 square miles, about 101 square kilometres, and is home to critically endangered Cross River gorillas, endangered Nigeria-Cameroon chimpanzees, drills, porcupines, duikers, and dozens of bird, bat and butterfly species.
In Ulom, one monthly meeting ended with a decision to raise the fine for river poisoning to 500,000 naira, about $356.
Asu Margaret, the group secretary, told the meeting: “In our previous meeting we discussed how to prevent wildfires in the Afi Mountains. We rejected the felling of trees. We maintain the ban on timber dealers.”
Ofre Mary said the Ulom Women’s Conservation Collective began in 2023 after conversations at a burial ceremony in the nearby village of Bamba.
“Our men have failed to stop the threats,” Mary says. “That’s why women decided to take a stand. That’s why we decided to take the risk.”
Mary said the women’s core exists to “firmly defend the Afi Mountains and prevent people from destroying it,” and added: “My father told me Afi had special animals. We must protect it.”
The group now meets twice a month. Members carry out two standard monitoring patrols a month, apart from emergency responses, and investigate smoke, gunshots and chainsaw noise coming from Afi.
Suspects can be exonerated, fined or exiled, according to the report. Guns and chainsaws are confiscated, and communal task forces and councils of chiefs enforce the decisions.
Akan Grace, the public relations officer for the Ulom group, said the women have already made a difference.
“In the past, we could barely sleep due to the sounds of chainsaws logging in our forests,” Grace says. “Even by 12 a.m., midnight, the sounds of engines would be ringing from loggers inside the forest.”
In 2024, the Ulom women pressed local leaders to reject a timber deal, and youths set up roadblocks that blocked timber dealers from Ulom and nearby communities.
Francis Akie, head of the Traditional Rulers Council of Ulom, said women had already stopped another logging agreement before the collective was formally created.
“They reminded us that a single baby chimpanzee or gorilla is more valuable than a hundred loads of timber trucks,” Akie says. “We saw merit in their ideas and stopped the timber deal completely. We refunded the timber dealers the money we already collected.”
The groups also say one of their biggest gains is making local conservation rules apply to everyone.
“In the past, the laws existed, but people didn’t care much about abiding by them. There was just a lot of talking without concrete action,” Grace says. “But now, if there is an offense like a wildfire, we fight until we uncover the culprit.”
Akie said the rules are now enforced equally. “Even if the king commits an illegal act that harms the environment.”
Osang Sarah, a member of the Katabang collective, put it this way: “Even if my own sister breaks the law, we would arrest her. The warning has gone around to everyone. If the community makes a law, everyone must abide by it. One person can never be greater than the community. There is nobody above the community law.”
The model is spreading. More than half of Afi’s 16 landlord communities are at different stages of setting up similar women’s groups, according to the report.
Women from Buanchor visited Ulom in 2024 to study its approach before starting their own collective. Agbo Regina said more than 100 women joined at first, but the group later narrowed to about a dozen.
“We wanted only people who are ready to work. People who are firm in their resolve,” Regina says. “The smaller the better. Large crowds destroyed stability.”
Ojong Gift, publicity lead for the Buanchor collective, said members seized a chainsaw from a logger during a night patrol in January 2026.
“We seized the chainsaw machine, and [the logger] was pleading for mercy. We gave him a final warning. He paid fine,” Gift says.
Gift said Buanchor women also forced leaders to reverse a timber deal in 2024.
“We threatened to protest naked all around the entire community if they permitted timber merchandise,” Gift says.
The women are also focusing on rivers. Several streams and rivers, including the Afi River, are patrolled to detect and stop pollution.
Agbo Helen, leader of the Katabang collective, said river poisoning affects people and wildlife alike. “Animals drink from the water. Birds drink from the same water. Human beings drink from the same water, and if the water is poisoned, the animals might die or migrate.”
Akie said the river patrols have changed conditions in Ulom. “The women guard our rivers. They arrest offenders. They are the ones who enforce the laws protecting the waters. Since it began, river poisoning has stopped.”
The work comes with costs. Mary said the groups need money for motorcycle rentals and fuel, and lack equipment including rain boots, jungle fatigues, machetes and wildfire gear.
“We have discussed expanding to other communities, but there is worry about how to finance this expansion,” Mary says.
Sarah said the results are already showing in parts of the forest. “The animals are returning. You can see their fecal droppings and play spots. The forest is gradually regenerating and thick. Recently, we started hearing the calls of chimpanzees once more.”
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