Why ‘mob grazing’ may help protect drought-hit Senegal’s vast grasslands | Farming

IBrahima Ka, dressed in flowing indigo robes, herds her flock with those of her neighbors in front of an expanse of lush, untouched pasture. The bellowing, heaving and trampling of 350 impatient zebu cows behind a fenced perimeter marks a break with centuries of herding tradition in Senegal, West Africa. Rather than freely roaming the country’s vast grasslands, herders herd the herd tightly, confining them to grazing for short, intensive periods before being moved to a new plot.

Ka, the village chief of Thignol, is leading Senegal’s first “collective grazing” pilot project, aiming to mimic, on a much smaller scale, the way wildebeest traverse the Serengeti, moving to protect themselves against lions and cheetahs. The idea that intense grazing can regenerate grasslands rather than accelerate their decline is controversial. Initially, proponents of the project claimed it could help solve the climate crisis by storing carbon in regenerated grasslands – a claim with no scientific basis. But there is evidence that this method can improve the biodiversity and health of grasslands in arid areas like Senegal.

Ka felt he had no choice but to experiment. The green enclosure before him will soon be unrecognizable, becoming desert once the rainy season ends. His community’s grass is depleting faster than ever, making cows thinner, less milk-yielding and harder to sell for meat.

“The wealth of our community rests on our animals: if they suffer, so do we,” explains Ka.

A third of Senegal’s pastures are degraded – sparse, patchy grass, bare soil, few trees – due to overgrazing and erratic rainfall caused by climate change, says Dr Tamsir Mbaye, who heads the Center for Pastoralism and Arid Zones in Senegal. In Africa, 75% of drylands, or nearly two-thirds of the continent, are in poor condition, according to the UN.

This pilot project is showing early, but promising, signs of regeneration. After 18 months, Ka said he witnessed the return of species of grasses, insects and saplings that had not been seen in decades.

Usually, Ka’s son, Sadibou, freely raises the family’s cattle and sheep on rangelands dotted with ancient baobabs and wispy acacias. This dispersed approach contributes greatly to degradation, explains Joaquín Cadario, an agronomist at Action Against Hunger, an NGO supporting the pilot project.

This freedom of movement means that animals select the grasses they prefer, thereby eliminating certain species. Once their favorite grasses are gone, they eat the young trees, killing them before they mature.

“Look around you, there are only old trees here,” Cadario said. “If you had a village with only old people, it would eventually die. It’s the same with trees.”

For the 127-hectare (314-acre) experimental plot, Ka and 10 neighboring families formed a community herd of about 350 cows and 2,000 sheep, moving them to a patch of pasture the size of a football field each day. Ideally, concentrated together, they will nibble only what is in front of them as their hooves tear through the thick crust of dry soil, creating space for new species and increasing water uptake, essential for adapting to climate change as droughts continue. A recent test revealed that the experimental plot absorbed 60% more water.

Once grazed, the soil is left to rest for a year, giving the meadows time to grow back and the trees to mature. Despite early positive signs from the Senegalese pilot project, scientists say collective grazing is not a silver bullet and that there is a fine line between grassland regeneration and degradation.

“The scientific line on collective grazing is very nuanced,” says Dr Cecilia Dahlsjö, senior researcher at the Leverhulme Center for Nature Recovery at the University of Oxford. A multitude of factors – geography, herd size, rest period, rainfall – determine whether the approach boosts or degrades biodiversity, she says. “Collective grazing can be beneficial for biodiversity, water absorption and soil structure, but if you go too far it can be detrimental and the soil can become too trampled and compacted. »

Similarly, Craig Morris, a livestock professor at the University of KwaZulu-Natal in South Africa, said context is key, but semi-arid grasslands like those in Senegal “hold the most promise” for collective grazing, where pastures are degraded and rainfall is scarce.

The Ka crowd sparked intrigue. Breeders from the 80,000 hectare reserve where he lives, further afield in Senegal and even neighboring Mauritania, visited the plot to see the results. But the extent of this approach will depend on leaders like Ka who can mobilize large groups. Another pilot project just 30km away failed when herders ignored resting rules due to a lack of community buy-in.

Ka promises that local shepherds will show up. And the next morning, the crowd of 350 cows and their owners gather in front of the perimeter. Young shepherds dressed in elegant dresses and stylish sunglasses take advantage of a respite from solitude to joke together and play music on a Bluetooth boombox.

At 10 a.m., animals arrive en masse, hoovering up fresh pasture, while shepherds whistle and hoot to keep them tightly packed. Moustapha Ka, Ibrahima’s brother, comes to show off a green, fibrous plant that he saw when he was young.

“These are small changes,” he said. “But in five or six years, more species of plants, insects and trees will return.”