Akagera National Park

Listen first. Before you see anything, you will hear it. There is the dry rattle of acacia leaves, the low grunt of a hippo somewhere below the water, and the high, clear call of a fish eagle overhead. The air smells of warm grass and dust. In the morning there is often a faint haze over the lakes. This is Akagera, in the far east of Rwanda, and it feels very different from the green, terraced hills most visitors picture.

Rwanda is often called the land of a thousand hills. Most of the country is high, cool and intensely farmed. Here the land drops lower, and it is warmer and drier. Open savanna stretches out, with scattered acacia trees and patches of thicker woodland. To the east, a chain of lakes and papyrus swamps runs along the Akagera River. That river forms the border with Tanzania, and it gives the park its name.

The park was first protected in 1934, during the period of Belgian colonial rule. At that time it covered a much larger area than it does today. The reason it shrank is one of the most important parts of its story. It shows how closely this landscape is tied to the history of the people around it.

In 1994, Rwanda suffered the genocide against the Tutsi. In the years that followed, hundreds of thousands of refugees returned home. Many had lived in exile for decades. They needed land to settle and to graze their cattle. In 1997, a large part of the old park was given over to resettlement, and the protected area was reduced to roughly half its former size. Today it covers a little over one thousand square kilometres.

Those were hard years for the wildlife too. Poaching increased, and conflict between farmers and predators grew. The lions in particular were hunted and poisoned, often by herders protecting their cattle. By the early 2000s, lions had disappeared from the park completely. The black rhino was also lost. For a time it seemed that Akagera might become a park in name only.

Here is the turn that surprises many visitors. In 2010, the Rwanda Development Board formed a partnership with African Parks, a conservation organisation that manages protected areas across the continent. Together they put rangers back on patrol, built a fence along the western boundary to reduce conflict with nearby farms, and worked with local communities. Poaching dropped sharply. Then they began to bring missing animals home.

In 2015, lions returned. A small group was brought from South Africa, and it was the first time lions had walked here in many years. The population has grown since then. In 2017, eastern black rhinos arrived. In 2021, white rhinos followed. With those additions, Akagera became a place where you can find all of the so-called Big Five. That means lion, leopard, elephant, buffalo and rhino. Not bad for a park many people once wrote off.

As you drive, look at the grassland itself. You may see herds of impala, with their neat black stripes on the rump. Topi stand on termite mounds to watch for danger, their coats glossy and dark. Zebra move in loose groups, and buffalo gather near water. Giraffes are here too. Their story is unusual. They were brought from Kenya in the 1980s, and they have done well in this open country.

Now turn toward the water. Lake Ihema is the largest of the park's lakes, and a boat trip here shows a different side of Akagera. Hippos lie half-submerged, with only their eyes and ears above the surface. Nile crocodiles rest on the banks with their mouths open to cool down. Along the shore, the papyrus grows tall and dense. It is easy to forget that you are still in a country best known for mountain gorillas.

Birdwatchers often say the wetlands are the real treasure here. The park is home to hundreds of bird species. You may see African fish eagles, kingfishers, herons and storks. The most sought-after bird of all is the shoebill. It is a tall, grey, almost prehistoric-looking bird with a huge bill shaped like a wooden clog. It is rare and shy, and it lives deep in the swamps. Seeing one takes patience and luck.

The landscape changes as you move through the park. In the south, there is more woodland and lakeshore. In the north, the plains open wide and the grass seems endless. The Mutumba Hills rise in the middle, and from higher ground you can look out across the savanna toward the lakes. At the end of the day, the light turns gold and then copper. The dust in the air softens everything.

Akagera's recovery is not only about animals. The park's managers have worked to share its benefits with the communities around it. Local people work as rangers, guides and lodge staff. Some park revenue supports projects in nearby villages. The fence that protects the wildlife also protects farms and cattle. That balance is the quiet foundation under everything you see here. Without it, the lions could not have returned.

So take a moment, wherever you are standing or sitting right now. Notice the sounds again — the insects in the grass, the wind, perhaps a distant bird call. This land was nearly emptied of its large animals within living memory. Today, it is full again. As you move on, watch the edges of the road and the shade under the trees. Something is almost always watching you back.