Mistakes of past decades must be rectified or there will be no wild baboons left

I love baboons. I love their intelligence, their antics, the long slender snouts of the mature males, the cute little pink faces of their tiny babies, their playfulness, their responsible parenting, their social cohesiveness…

It’s hard to separate the emotion from the constructive thought process that is required for this exercise. The emotion whispers in one’s ear and tempts and taunts one into hoping that this time around it can be different. That, after nearly three decades, we can get it right. Right as wildlife-respecting communities would “get it right”, as kind people would “get it right”.

It seems so simple to coexist with nature, with wildlife, with each other. There’s nothing that I would like more, believe me. But simple it is not.

To watch the youngsters in a troop cavorting around while the higher-ranking individuals are meticulously groomed by the lower-ranking, or while an attentive female sticks as close as she can to the alpha male, lest he ignore her presence. To observe these wild animals as they forage on fynbos flowers, berries and pine cones or as they slowly move en masse along a hillside is a true privilege.

That is one reality, but another reality – and this is the difficult part – is the test. The other reality is a cacophony of screeches and howls, of dangerous and unplanned rough and tumble falls from dizzy heights on buildings, of real aggression towards each other. Fighting over human food waste is bad enough, but when that waste is mixed with bacteria-laden nappies, broken glass and even out-of-date medicine, then we must admit we have failed them.

I believe that there is no such thing as perfect waste management. Even if 99 out of 100 get it right, there will always be that missing link, that one household which didn’t get the memo, that never quite bothered enough. It could be residents who have lived here all their lives, it could be guesthouses, it could be restaurants. It could be you and me. And it is. Every week.

The same applies to the open invitations we provide. I have my own sliding door open as I type this. Baboons don’t know where the boundary between wild fynbos on the mountainside ends and my indigenous garden starts; nor do they know that my open door with a visible apple inside isn’t for them.

Long summer days, crisp Cape winter days, open doors, open windows, children and pets walking in and out, breakfast, lunch and dinner on the balcony, in the garden, on the stoep. “Paradise Found.”

But then the inconvenience of the big clean-up after the “invitation” was misunderstood and the troop had helped themselves to the spoils of our paradise, to the sugar packets at the restaurants and to the chips in your child’s hand. Have we forgotten this other reality of coexistence? Can we be honest and admit to ourselves that it doesn’t turn out to be what it’s often made out to be?

Inconvenience is just the beginning; damage to property is annoying and can be costly; dogs that become apoplectic; mothers who are fearful for their children, perhaps not knowing that baboons are a prey species, not predators. These are all part of the reality of coexistence.

For those who maintain that it is possible, I pose the difficult question: knowing the likely outcome for the baboons from all of this, could there be truth in the fact that it might be you who gains more out of this belief than the animals you love so much? Could this “love” be misplaced? 

What happens when coexistence becomes habituation? Is habituation a healthy lifestyle for wild animals? They don’t need us, so why do some of us feel so drawn to them? When do we become the enablers of these animals’ demise?

Read more: Wild baboons on the South Peninsula — how not to manage urban wildlife conflicts

Now to my big ask of you: engage yourselves, inform yourselves and be open to the enquiry as to how we might keep these animals in a natural  environment that is safe and healthy for them.

There are many of the baboon-ranging territories on the South Peninsula where there is the possibility to do this, to conserve the troops, to keep them away from our human detritus, but still to be able to observe them, knowing that they are really living a much better life.

To have watched how so-called baboon “management” has deteriorated to where it is today has been a painful experience for me, but it’s not as painful and deathly an experience as it will be for many individual baboons and even entire troops that are already being earmarked.  

We are at a crossroads now and the mistakes of the past decades must be rectified. If they are not, there will be no wild baboons. Period. It is as simple as that. And we won’t get a second chance either.

Yes, education, waste management, law enforcement, baboon-proofing of our homes, all those buzz words and good intentions, must still be forced into effectiveness and accountability, but even in a full combination, can they put the brakes on this habituation we are witnessing?  

Read more: Community baboon monitoring project in Cape Town claims pushback from authorities

I have devoted much time to listening to the views of expert scientists on this matter and have come to the conclusion that if we want to keep whole troops from entering our villages and towns, the only truly viable, long-term solution is well-planned and well-managed electrified game-fencing, coupled with rangers at strategic points.

I appeal to you to take in the evidence with an open mind. There can be no idyllic solution where these extraordinary animals move peacefully among us in our suburbs and villages – that opportunity, if it ever existed, has slipped past us. Our best hope now, surely, is that some reliable separation is created between us so that they can thrive as the wild animals so many of us cherish.

Our task now is to hold the authorities materially responsible for the conservation and management of this iconic species and cohabitant of our Paradise Found. As residents, I believe it is our duty to ensure that our children and their children will still be able to say, “I love baboons”. DM