How the Maasai tribe in Kenya safeguards its social fabric

By trading in their spears for staffs, this pastoral community is now one with nature

We often talk about a life-changing moment, one that might transform our perspective. That defining moment could be staring into the Mara (the shortened name for the Maasai Mara game reserves) in Kenya at the crack of dawn, which abounds with rolling grasslands, expressive acacia trees, sweeping vistas teeming with wildlife, and one of Africa’s common but unforgettable sights: “the cumulus clouds that drift all day long across a sun-filled sky,” as Elspeth Huxley wrote in The Flame Trees of Thika: Memories of an African Childhood (1959), “remind[ing] me of huge swirls of whipped cream.” 

While making leisurely game drives throughout the Mara, we gander at the pleistocene crocodiles and hippos who frequent the Mara River and its tributaries (seeing a big pod of hippos gambol and thrash about can be as moving as a performance of Swan Lake by the Kirov Ballet, as Walt Disney showed us in the immortal Fantasia, long ago). 

Just after sunrise and halfway into our game drive (as “safaris” are called in this part of the world), we’re treated to an exceptional sighting. Three massive lions, about three lionesses and their cubs all huddle under the shade of an acacia tree. Two other lions rest at the wheel of a jeep, oblivious to the crowd of restless safari enthusiasts. 

This wasn’t even the highlight of our morning in the Maasai Mara, where predators and prey are plentiful. On our way back to the Sarova Mara Game Camp located in the heart of the Maasai Mara Game Reserve in south west Kenya, we rounded a corner to find two cheetahs resting under the shade of another acacia. As our Maasai guide moves the vehicle to get a better vantage point, we see two 16-month-old cubs napping at the other end. A herd of zebras cautiously heads towards the watering hole, warily watching the cheetahs every step of their way. 

The Maasai people

Later that evening, after another game drive, the Maasai people decided to put on a show for us. A line of warriors gather in the distance, their warrior shouts punctuating the still air. Grunts follow chants and the pounding of feet, harmony, and heartbeats. 

There are no drums, only voices for sound. As the men get closer, the volume of their chants rises, and the intensity of their movements increases, converging into a steady rhythm. They form a circle, they jump, each time higher than before. As energy flows into and through the corral, the men circle back, offering their chant in return, a sort of call and response, their voices growing in volume and pitch. This is the essence of the signature Maasai adamu, or jumping dance.

For the Maasai, this is a celebration to mark the rite of passage to welcome young men to the next stage of their lives. Important rites of passage in life are marked by ceremonies filled with song and dance. Boys are divided into age groups and, throughout their lives, are identified with and by those stages. As they move from one stage, there’s a rhythm and movement to welcome them into the next step of their lives. Song-and-dance-filled Maasai celebrations last for days on end, offering opportunities to bring people together and assemble members of the different clans from around the region. These gatherings are among the ways the Maasai preserve their social fabric and continue the traditional culture in the face of external pressures and societal evolution, as narrated by David Sasine, a naturalist and driver-cum-guide at the Camp, who holds a wealthy perspective of the two cultures. While sharing this, often goes on a tangent about how instrumental Sarova has been for his family and himself. 

The beginning

Before the first European explorer arrived in the early 1890s, the nomadic Maasai people had been grazing their livestock on the vast plains of East Africa for almost 200 years. They referred to the area as ‘siringet’, or “the place where the land runs on forever,” which led to the founding of the Serengeti Game Reserve (now Serengeti National Park) in northern Tanzania in 1921.

The Mara, located in southwestern Kenya, was named after the Maasai term for ‘spotted’. It’s an apt description of the seemingly unending savanna terrain, studded with cloud shadows, acacia scrub, and circles of trees around watering holes.

The Maasai Mara began as a 200-square-mile wildlife reserve in 1961, eventually becoming a protected National Reserve in 1974. The reserve has since grown to encompass 583 square miles. However, it is now only a minor component of the Greater Mara Ecosystem, comprising Ol Kinyei, Naboisho, Olare Motorogi, and several other privately held conservancies.

The region is most renowned for the Great Migration, widely regarded as one of the world’s Top 10 Natural Wonders. Every year, millions of gazelles, wildebeest, zebras, and other ungulates make the 500-mile journey north to Kenya to follow the seasonal rains (and the delicious red oats that sprout in their wake).

“The Maasai have lived a migratory, pastoral lifestyle since we arrived in the Rift Valley’s savanna four centuries ago,” says Sasine. Warriors—traditionally, young men and boys—protect the cattle from predators and herd them to water bodies and pasture land. With the shifting of the seasons, the flocks migrate to new regions, allowing the grasslands to regrow. Maasai women are responsible for milking the cows and caring for the home and children. “Land is viewed as a common resource in Maasai tradition, to be shared equally but with careful management that ensures its sustainable use,” adds Sasine . 

Despite their patriarchal ways, Sasine says, things are slowly changing for the better. “Our men don’t cook. But we’re finding that increasingly changing with the times. For instance, a while back, young Maasai men who were taken in to work at Sarova Mara Game Camp to empower the community would say they could work anywhere except the kitchen. As we speak, four men are chefs here at the camp, and amazing ones at that,” he says. 

Empowering the locals 

The Kenya-based Sarova Hotels & Resorts has been safeguarding the rights of the Maasai people for over five decades now. The success of the Sarova Mara Game Camp can be attributed to the employment of locals who understand the region and have buy-in on the hotel chain's ideas, making them easy to implement. “We take pride in our passionate tour guides who narrate their experiences and explain in spectacular detail any curious wildlife query. These very locals also tend to the organic herb and vegetable gardens. We have provided direct route-to-market channels for artisans of Maasai crafts that make for amazing souvenirs. The artisans can display their merchandise within our lodges, selling them directly to tourists, allowing them to pocket profits for their families without third-party costs,” says Mita Vohra, Board Director and Head of Sales, Marketing, Revenue and Distribution. 

Vohra, who was born and studied in Nairobi, and spent most of her adult life in London, says the Maasai people have been instrumental in shaping her as a person too. “Whenever I stay at the Camp, I leave transformed. The mysticism of the land, the generosity of its people and the beauty of the savannah stay with me every time. So it’s only fair to collaborate with the Maasai landowners and local communities, to empower them and provide long-term income and revenue to them. We simply cannot come in as outsiders and make decisions on land use without engaging the Maasai, to whom the land rightfully belongs,” says Vohra. 

The demographic of travellers who visit the property has changed over the years. With the safari market diversifying, young professionals, say 25 years old and above, form a significant chunk. The region is also seeing what Vohra calls the “conscious traveller” – or “people who want to experience the best of safaris and contribute themselves while also learning from us. People are looking for a more transformational journey, and we are delighted to see that because that’s exactly what our mission is,” she says. 

The Maasai women

Despite the tribe’s acclimatisation to society, the Maasai women and girls are not  considered permanent members of their households. When they marry, they instead move between homes and clans. Marriage is a big deal in Maasai culture, and young women and men have little say over who they marry. Early and forced marriages are still widespread in rural areas, and bride money is important. In the Maasai culture, a girl is worth the equivalent of a cow or two, a herd of sheep and goats, or both. In other words, girls are often little more than a channel for bringing bride wealth to their families. As a result of such practices, only a few Maasai females enrol in school, few complete primary education, and even fewer complete secondary school.

Rose Nayianoi, who works at the front desk of the Sarova Mara Game Camp, is an anomaly. “I was lucky to get an education considering most girls in my village rarely attend school. Or even if they do, most of them fail to complete their education. I was fortunate to attend university in Nairobi and chose to come back to my village to give back,” she says. According to Nayianoi, most Maasai people who leave the region for education or employment believe giving back to the land and community is their moral duty.  

Grappling with an unsure future 

From British colonisation to the emergence of independent Tanzania and Kenya in the early 1960s and into the 21st century, the Maasai have worked to safeguard their distinct cultural legacy and autonomy. The development of the commercial market economy has posed the greatest danger to the Maasai way of life in recent years. Their highly developed and ritualised barter system, based on cattle as cash, has had to give way to a larger commercial economy based on non-indigenous conceptions of property and value.

“Many Maasai have taken up other ways of making a living, such as farming or working in the tourist trade. We may value our traditions but we’re not closed to the idea of evolving as a people,” says Daniel Ole Sait, another pastoralist who works at the Sarova Mara Game Camp.

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