LocationsWhere Spirits Guard the Forest: A Journey Through Uganda’s Indigenous Landscapes
February 12, 2026
Aerial View of Uganda's Sipi Falls
In November 2025, the UNDP Uganda Accelerator Lab, the Biodiversity Finance Initiative (BIOFIN) team and the National Environment Management Authority (NEMA) team, set out on a deep community immersion visit to indigenous forest ecosystems across Uganda. The mission was to co-design a Stakeholder Engagement Plan (SEP) and an Indigenous Peoples Plan (IPP) rooted in the lived realities of Uganda’s Indigenous communities.
From the misty slopes of Mount Elgon to the ridges of Mount Morungole, and the acacia plains of Amudat, three women deepened our understanding that conservation for them was not a project. It was a way of life. The women became our guides into worlds where the forest breathes, spirits speak, and conservation is not a policy, but the way of life. This mission also aligned with Uganda’s effort to translate the Kunming-Montreal Global Biodiversity Framework (KMGBF) from global commitment into daily practice in villages, homesteads, and sacred groves.
The Slopes of Mount Elgon; Where Chebet Listens to the Forest
AI enhanced picture of Berna Chebet in Mt. Elgon Forest
At the forest edge, Berna Chebet, a Lakwek brewer, shared how her grandmother passed the role to her, and how Lakwek herbs were gathered only after spiritual inquiry. “My grandmother passed this role to me,” she said. “I did not choose Lakwek. Lakwek chose me.”
Lakwek, we learned, is a medicinal forest brew made from a careful selection of herbs gathered through spiritual guidance. In this community, it is valued for its healing properties: detoxification, heart conditions, reproductive health, and general well-being. Because of its significance, the plants used must be preserved and harvested with deep reverence.
Chebet collects them only after seeking direction from nature spirits, listening for which plants hold healing power.
The practice was under pressure. She was allowed into the forest once a week for one hour to prevent over-harvesting, but as she told us: “one hour is not enough for the spirits to speak.”
Using the Ecosystem Services Assessment Tool (ESAT), the team mapped priority ecosystem services: medicinal plants, food (including honey), water regulation/erosion control, and cultural sites, alongside rising threats such as illegal cutting, shrinking rivers and a drying bamboo strip.
The community also described and informed us of local conservation systems: sacred trees no one may cut, seasonal taboos, and community enforcement of boundaries.
Berna Chebet brewing Lakwek
The Ridge of Mount Morungole in North-Eastern Uganda; Theresa and the Forest That Makes Rain
Our climb up Mount Morungole was steep, broken by narrow ridges overlooking the golden expanse of the Kidepo valley. The region is home to the Ik peoples, one of Uganda’s Indigenous communities.
Here we met 95-year-old Theresa, a woman who speaks of the forest the way others speak of family.
“We survive because the forest survives,” she told us, pointing towards the Timu Forest Reserve.
Using the ESAT tool, the Ik community mapped their ecosystem with remarkable clarity, revealing the deep motivations and connections behind their conservation practices:
Ik Ecosystem Highlights
Traditional forest knowledge that restricts access to sacred sites; Community taboos on cutting specific tree species; Rotational honey harvesting to allow bee populations to regenerate; Soil fertility maintenance through low-chemical farming and mixed cropping; Oral forecasting systems based on astronomy and ecological cues; Pruning trees to stimulate regeneration instead of cutting them down
When mapped through ESAT, these practices presented a strong case for blending Indigenous knowledge and modern biodiversity finance. They speak directly to Targets 21, 22 and 23: data and knowledge, inclusive participation, and gender-responsive governance.
But threats are rising.
“People from outside the Ik community come and cut our trees,” Theresa explained.
“Some officials burn charcoal. The rivers are drying. The Forest is struggling”
For the Ik, trees are not just wood. They are rainmakers. Their ability to cultivate across seasons depends on a rain pattern that has, until recently, been stable and predictable.
Traditional predictions of famine rely on signs from the stars and the behaviour of trees. If an Ik climber falls from a tree, it is interpreted as a warning of an upcoming famine.
Ik Community at the boundaries of Timu Forest reserve
The Acacia Plains of Amudat; Claudia and the Wisdom of Milk
Amudat welcomed us with hot winds, open plains, and endless acacia woodlands. Here, we met Claudia, a District Local Government official a woman with a such deep knowledge of trees.
She invited us into her “manyatta-house” and showed us a practice that both intriguing and fascinating
Preserving Milk with Fire and Acacia
Claudia cut a branch of acacia, burned one end, and used the charcoal to scrub inside a gourd. This smoke-infused coating sterilizes the gourd, allowing milk to stay for over a year.
This is deep community knowledge, locally appropriate and incredibly effective.
Photo at Claudia home
The Amudat ecosystem assessment revealed:
Medicinal trees such as Acacia polyacantha, saddle wood, and tamarind, figs; Wildlife corridors used by gazelle, buffalo, giraffe, and other species; Grasslands supporting livestock including cattle, camels, goats, and sheep; Seasonal rivers sustaining humans and animals through dry periods; Minerals such as gold, rubies, diamond and sapphire; Spiritual sites tucked into caves and hills used for rituals and justice processes.
Claudia also shared their customary governance systems: the Pokot Traditional Justice for Conservation. If someone cuts down a sacred tree, traditional leaders may demand that a large black bull be offered as a sacrifice to appease the spirits and prevent a curse.
This system advances conservation owing to its roots in local systems, that are rooted in a traditional beliefs.
Here again, the KMGBF Targets 22 and 23 become tangible: safeguarding the rights and leadership of Indigenous men and women as well as ensuring that their knowledge and governance systems shape how biodiversity is conserved and used intergenerationally.
A photo showing Camels in Amudat District
The Batwa; Guardians of the Ancient Rainforests
In the misty highlands of south-western Uganda, the Batwa welcomed us with soft voices and watchful eyes. Once known as the “Keepers of the Forest,” the Batwa lived for centuries in the dense rainforests of Bwindi, Mgahinga, Semuliki, and Echuya.
Their world changed abruptly in 1991 when these forests were gazetted as national parks. They were evicted, separated from the hunting grounds, honey trails, medicinal plants, and sacred caves that defined their identity.
Today, the Batwa population tells a sobering story: from 6,200 in 2014 to 3,857 in 2024, according to the Uganda Bureau of Statistics (UBOS). The sharp decline has raised national and global concern.
Though living on the forest edges, the Batwa still carry significant indigenous knowledge.
Batwa Conservation Practices
Identifying sacred trees used for healing and rain rituals; Mapping caves and groves where ancestral spirits dwell; Selective honey harvesting that protects bee colonies; Conserving wetlands for specific flowers that support pollination, traditionally known as Humura neza; Traditional dietary patterns that prevent over-hunting; Oral traditions that describe forest succession and species behaviour
“For us, the forest is everything,” one elder told us. “Housing, food, medicine, our entire livelihood.”
Their Indigenous knowledge, rich and delicate, remains one of Uganda’s greatest ecological assets, directly relevant to KMGBF Target 3 on conserved areas and Target 21 on knowledge systems.
A photo showcasing a Batwa Home in Southwestern Uganda
The Lendu (Ndrukpa) community from the hilly landscapes of Zombo and Nebbi
Further north-west, in the hilly landscapes of Zombo and Nebbi, we met elders of the Lendu (Ndrukpa) community. Their identity is interwoven with Lendu Forest, a patchwork of groves, wetlands, and volcanic hills that have anchored their spiritual world for generations.
Unlike the Batwa, the Lendu’s numbers have remained relatively stable: 18,919 in 2014 and 18,801 in 2024, a slight decline but still within range. Yet stability masks vulnerability.
The Lendu face growing pressures on their cultural and environmental heritage: commercial tree cutting, steady expansion of farmlands, weakening authority of traditional custodians, and a rising loss of cultural identity among the youth.
Yet their resilience is anchored in deeply rooted cultural systems and long-standing conservation practices. The Lendu: Protect sacred groves where no tree may be cut; Uphold community-enforced taboos against over-harvesting of forest products; Perform rituals beneath specific indigenous trees believed to host ancestral spirits; Maintain farm–forest mosaics that naturally support regeneration; Use clan elders to guide nature-based conflict resolution rooted in customary law.
These practices mirror the principles of the BIOFIN initiative, showing how biocultural traditions can serve as powerful guardians of nature, and how KMGBF targets can be advanced by financing what communities already know and do.
A Shared Lament Across Villages
In conversations with Batwa elders beneath towering mahogany trees, with Lendu women grinding medicinal roots, and with youth gathered near shrinking streams, a common refrain echoed.
“The forest is going. When the forest goes, a part of us goes too.”
Across the districts, Lendu community expressed deep concern over the rapid degradation of their natural environments, mourning the shrinking of sacred forests, the rise in charcoal burning, growing pressure from incoming populations, and the drying of rivers and wetlands that once sustained their livelihoods. The ecosystem is changing rapidly. They also highlighted escalating soil erosion, the disappearance of valuable medicinal plants, and a troubling decline in wildlife, all of which threaten both their cultural identity and ecological well-being. Many elders described the same fear:
“that the erosion of nature is the erosion of heritage, identity, and spiritual balance”.
What biodiversity finance could enable
BIOFIN pathways identified with communities included: Payments for Ecosystem Services, support to green enterprises (e.g., Lakwek processing, honey, crafts, eco-tourism), district environment funds, and community forestry/co-management agreements that enable lawful access and shared stewardship.
Closing
The consultations provided many insights and the message was clear: Indigenous communities are not only beneficiaries of conservation, they are its architects, and their indigenous knowledge can be a blueprint for the future.
Aerial view of Murchison Falls National Park