Human/Nature: Migration mayhem

This article appeared in the fifth edition of ThisWildEarth. See our other publications here.

Every year, the Great Migration draws travellers from around the world to witness more than a million wildebeest and zebra trekking through the Serengeti and Maasai Mara. More recently, the magic has been overshadowed by heavy overcrowding, threatening both animal welfare and long-term sustainability. By Justin Fox

Migration timeline East Africa has long rains (March–May) and short rains (November–December). The Great Migration tracks fresh, nutrient-rich grass as rainfall shifts across the ecosystem. Timing varies each year because rainfall patterns are unpredictable, influencing when and where fresh grazing becomes available.

 ·       January–March: Calving on the short-grass plains of the southern Serengeti

·       June–July: Movement through the western Serengeti and Grumeti region

·       August–September: Large herds spread across Kenya’s Maasai Mara

·       October–November: Short rains trigger the gradual return south to the Serengeti

Rounding a bend on Rongai Hill in the Serengeti National Park, we come upon the endless herd pouring west towards Grumeti. I’m barely able to compute what my eyes are seeing: an ocean of mammals, a vast, seething, living, breathing leviathan. I find myself overwhelmed, struggling to think clearly, unable to decide which lens to use, whether to photograph, film, or jot notes. Instead, I put my camera away to drink in the spectacle first. It’s a moving landscape of sound and wonder, of pronking, leaping, cantering, grazing, and snorting. Everywhere, everything feels alive.

The Great Migration had always sat high on my safari wish-list, so in 2021 I leapt at the chance, despite COVID-19 restrictions, to visit this corner of Africa during migration season. First, we descended into Ngorongoro’s ancient volcano, a fertile cauldron thronging with more than 25 000 animals. Due to COVID-19, the caldera was largely devoid of other vehicles. Then we moved to the Serengeti. When we found the migration, it was everything I’d hoped for. With the main herd pressed up against Rongai Hills, the sights and sounds were a sensory overload – and again, we were mostly alone.

I’d been tremendously lucky to see the migration largely devoid of tourists – a rare and once-in-a-lifetime privilege. Since then, things have changed dramatically. The kind of overtourism seen in cities such as Barcelona and Venice has now arrived in parts of Africa. As a travel journalist who’s been visiting the continent’s wilderness areas for three decades, I’ve seen how transformative a safari experience can be – and how delicate the balance is between preservation and pressure.

When crowds derail the crossing

Nowhere is this more apparent than at river crossings. In recent seasons, more than 100 vehicles at once have been recorded jostling for position at a single crossing point. At times, the sheer congestion prevents wildebeest from finding a way through, forcing them to move elsewhere. When the herds do shift, vehicles race to beat one another to the next crossing, creating traffic jams. Drivers park on fragile riverbanks; guests exit vehicles to take selfies.

In these moments, the wildebeest sometimes panic or turn back. Others leap from unsuitable cliffs, risking injury or death. The chaos also affects predators: cheetahs in high-traffic areas have lower cub survival rates, while massed vehicles compact soil and degrade vegetation.

Ripple effects across the ecosystem

Data suggests that wildebeest are now spending approximately 35 fewer days in the Maasai Mara than in previous decades. Instead they are spending more time in quieter spots like the Grumeti Nature Reserve (not to be confused with the Grumeti River) or Maswa Game Reserve. At the same time, the development of large luxury lodges has drawn criticism, particularly when built along sensitive migratory corridors.

Overcrowding reflects wider industry challenges. Authorities issue more permits and more vehicles follow. Too few limits are enforced at river crossings, leaving countless vehicles driving onto sensitive river banks, crushing vegetation and allowing guests out of the cars. Aggressive marketing fixated on dramatic crossings fuels unrealistic expectations. Guests don’t want to miss out, and guides feel pressured to deliver front-row seats.

Finding the balance

Discussions are underway in Kenya and Tanzania about stricter controls at river crossings, including vehicle caps and fines for rule-breaking tour guides. Kenya increased daily park fees to curb mass-market pressure and fund conservation. Authorities in both countries have issued formal notices aimed at restoring order.

Safari tourism itself is not the problem. Visitors are essential to sustaining these wild places. The challenge lies in management and mindset. To truly experience the spirit and timelessness of the Great Migration, you don’t want to compete with dozens of revving engines, clicking cameras, and probing selfie sticks. You want space, silence and the freedom to watch an ancient rhythm unfold.

Follow the herds more sustainably

The Great Migration is a year-long cycle across a vast ecosystem. Travelling in shoulder seasons often means fewer crowds, lower rates, and less environmental pressure. Travellers can reduce their impact by choosing to:

·       Visit outside peak periods, especially January–March (calving) or June–July (Grumeti crossings).

·       Explore beyond headline crossing points, including quieter reserves and private conservancies.

·       Keep your distance at crossings, using binoculars rather than pushing guides to break rules.

·       Book ethical operators who enforce vehicle limits and respectful viewing.

·       Choose smaller camps and lesser-known parks for more space and fewer vehicles.

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