Carbon Credits Fuel Restoration of East Africa’s Savannas

Overlooking a dry plain dotted with acacia bushes where the grass was turning brown under the cloudless sky, half-a-dozen middle-aged men gathered in the shade. All their lives, they have bred, kept and herded livestock: cattle, goats and camels, like their fathers before them and their fathers before that. They have seen the rains become unpredictable. They have seen their nomadic people settle in villages near schools and boreholes, become wealthier and concentrate bigger herds on less space. They have seen the grass struggling to grow back in the changing climate.  

Now they’re returning to grazing methods that blend today’s realities with long-tested Indigenous knowledge. The aim is to restore grasslands for livestock and wildlife while helping cut global greenhouse gases. “We had got into the habit of grazing the grass all the way to the ground,” said Peter Ekal, one of the herders sat in the shade here at Nasuulu, a community-run conservancy where locals manage land for livestock and wildlife. “It was destroyed. Now we plan, we graze to a certain level, then move. When it rains, even a shower, the grass starts growing, not like before.”

These men are among 205,000 people in an area of northern Kenya the size of Wales or two Yellowstone Parks who are part of the world’s largest soil carbon project. Rotating when and where they graze means more grass grows back, sucking in and storing up to 50 million tons of carbon over 30 years, according to figures validated for Verra, the body that certifies the project. That carbon is then sold to companies overseas looking to address their carbon emissions. “That’s what brings us the money, leaving the grass,” Peter says.

The Nature Conservancy (TNC) helped get the Northern Kenya Rangelands Carbon Project off the ground more than a decade ago and continues to advise its management. Most of the money goes back to the pastoralist communities, like Peter’s, to pay conservancy managers to keep the program going, and to fund other projects local people choose. 

Carbon funds power communities

In a large tin-roofed classroom, nine girls aged 14 to 18 discussed how the scheme pays their school fees, as it does for more than 13,000 children. “I am an orphan and I didn’t think I would be able to continue school,” said Gloria Lepirei. “Maybe I would be married by now if I was not here.” They weren’t clear exactly how the carbon program worked, but all were emphatic that it should continue. “Our younger brothers and sisters are coming after us,” said Juster Amanikwar. “They also want to come to school.”

A little further south, Peresina Lesingiran showed off the simple eco-lodge she and her community built with money from the carbon project, soon to welcome its first tourists. “We wanted something that could generate its own income,” she said. Less tangible, but potentially even more valuable, were the business grants for young 'warrior’-age men like Kirisia Lemasin, who buys and sells livestock. “Now that we plan where to graze, there is less tension over who gets the grass,” he said. “That means there is less conflict between different communities, and instead we are spending our time building our businesses.”

The project sold its first carbon credits in 2021, bringing close to $1 million for each of the locally-owned and managed conservancies in the scheme. The earnings covered more than half their running costs, according to the Northern Rangelands Trust (NRT), which supports the conservancies to run the project. Without it, the school bursaries, new classrooms, graded roads, repaired boreholes, village halls, entrepreneurship programs, school meals and myriad other initiatives all launched with carbon revenue would come to an end.

This is a strategy that earns communities income, restores ecosystems for livestock and wildlife including endangered species, and supports the global fight against climate change.

Carbon credits come under criticism

So why do campaigners so heavily criticize the Northern Kenya Rangelands Carbon Project, saying it was imposed without proper consent, transparency or fair distribution of benefits, and imposes external control on traditional pastoral lands? Why did Verra pause credit sales in 2023 while it investigated these allegations - closing its review fully satisfied with the project’s responses. And why were sales suspended again in May for a second review, albeit a procedural one following a court case affecting just one conservancy?

Maasai campaigners linked another project TNC is co-developing, in northern Tanzania, with allegations of inadequate public participation and unfair revenue sharing, though concerns focused more on a separate initiative in the same landscape. Similar assertions have been levelled at other carbon initiatives in Africa unconnected to TNC. These range from allegations forest communities were illegally displaced in the Republic of Congo and Indigenous Baka people in Cameroon excluded from land use decisions, to concerns over another soil carbon project in southern Kenya. One of the world’s largest carbon programs, in Zimbabwe, was suspended after claims it overstated climate benefits and under-delivered gains to locals. Critics say credit sale profits go disproportionately to Western carbon development companies, not the communities doing the work.

Much of the criticism stems from how the market first developed: fast, largely unregulated and without clear safeguards. Communities were treated as beneficiaries rather than equal partners, and human rights standards were weak. Today, things are very different. Governments are tightening oversight, setting rules for benefit-sharing and consent, while carbon standards increasingly require proof of social and environmental integrity. At the same time, the science behind carbon accounting has advanced, closing many of the gaps that drew earlier criticism. The result is a steadily maturing, more transparent and just, and accountable sector. 

TNC has taken allegations against projects it supports very seriously. Broadly, its responses point to a shift in recent years recognizing that the consent people give over how their land is used is not a single moment of approval, but a continuous process of dialogue, adaptation and re-consent as circumstances and understanding evolve.

“The people who live on or own land where TNC is supporting any kind of activity must always have the opportunity to participate in any decisions about how to use their land,” says Doudou Kalala, TNC’s Africa Indigenous Peoples and Local Communities Strategy Director. “They should understand what’s being suggested, and give their consent both before anything starts, and as it continues.

“The regulations and principles guiding these Free, Prior and Informed Consent (FPIC) processes have been constantly evolving over the last 20 years and continue to evolve. How can we be sure people understand the project? How can they raise questions or grievances? What percentage of the population is a representative quorum and who has the right to represent? How can we constantly check that they still understand it, and still consent?

“The answers to these questions are different today than they were when many of these projects launched. To some degree, the criticism some face focuses on how things were, not how they are today. As the sector matures, community ownership structures, clearer benefit-sharing and participatory governance are becoming the new norm. 

“At TNC we truly welcome the work of human rights defenders who investigate and interrogate these initiatives. We take very seriously the responsibility to be sure all our work, and the work of our partner organizations, aligns with the latest and most rigorous principles and regulations governing safeguarding people’s human rights and dignity. We place huge emphasis on working to bring older programs up to scratch.” 

TNC is committed to upholding human rights in conservation, aligning with the 10 Core Principles being developed by UNEP and the UN Office of Human Rights, and drawing on the UN Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples. As a founding member of the Conservation Initiative on Human Rights, it is putting these into practice through its Human Rights Guide for Working with Indigenous Peoples and Local Communities alongside a due diligence process, third-party partner assessments, and an independent grievance mechanism aligned to the UN Guiding Principles on Business and Human Rights for communities to raise concerns, ensuring accountability and transparency. 

Community engagement in action

How does this look on the ground? At the Northern Kenya Rangelands Carbon Project, TNC is working with conservancy communities, NRT and Native – the company that helped develop and launch the project and now markets the carbon credits – as they overhaul how the initiative operates. In 2024, the project held 269 meetings with more than 35,000 community members to increase awareness and understanding and share updates, with feedback helping to shape the revised approach. Community leaders are implementing new land rights laws, registering land ownership and forming new committees mandated by Kenya’s Community Land Act to decide how community resources are used. 

“This transition marks a new chapter in how communities lead conservation and climate action,” said Vishal Shah, NRT’s chief executive. “It means community conservancies directly own and govern the carbon project, with NRT continuing in a supportive, technical role where needed, after serving as project proponent since inception. It’s about building stronger local institutions that can sustain these benefits for generations.”

The project is transferring control and carbon rights from NRT to community committees. Their representatives on the Carbon Council have renegotiated some agreements, including revenue sharing, and are setting up a new community-owned enterprise to continue as proponent and manager. This will add or further strengthen accountability measures including annual audits, community budget meetings, grievance mechanisms, and sanctions for misconduct.

“At the outset 15 years ago, community engagement was mostly informal, relying on traditional structures and norms and working through elders and respected youth,” said Jeff Bernicke, Native’s president. “That was culturally appropriate then, but we’ve since made real changes based on community feedback. People wanted more say in how their share is used, so there are now clearer updates and more regular consultations, including with women and youth. Major decisions will now go through an even stronger consent process, directly shaped by the recent engagement processes.”

The same principles guide other carbon programs TNC supports, new and ongoing. In the Resilient Ecosystem of Northern Tanzania (RENT) project, currently in development, TNC is working with local Village Councils and Village General Assemblies – with government District Authorities and District Technical Teams closely involved – to establish a community-owned carbon enterprise. These Assemblies nominate representatives to a Project Council, which elects board members to appoint a project management team. The process began with community sensitization, explaining the idea behind the initiative, using local languages, engaging different groups separately to give everyone confidence to raise questions and concerns. 

This culminated in non-binding ‘letters of intent’ laying out in principle interest to proceed. Then, in the co-design phase, local people and their leaders went through the initiative in detail, including its governance structure, revenue sharing, and grievance mechanisms. Last, the project agreements were drafted, including in Swahili, which Village Councils are currently reviewing in public Village General Assemblies to finally decide whether to take part. Villages that opt out won’t participate; those needing more clarity will get tailored support.

Another initiative in Tanzania involving 90,000 people restoring an estimated 11 million trees in the Rubeho Mountains is under development using stronger public participation and FPIC processes supported by TNC, including local language guides to land use planning and forest management. In West Lunga in Zambia, TNC funded new Community Resource Boards, patrol rations and salaries for community scouts, and training on governance and developing project design documents. It helped fund staff including a Carbon Analyst and Community Officers who crisscrossed the proposed initiative’s 12,000 sq km area to gather people’s feedback and answer questions. TNC has contracted specialist independent expertise to help develop potential new carbon programs in Sierra Leone and Kenya under the latest community participation principles, and to produce a best practice guide for other future initiatives.

Nonetheless, conservation always requires trade-offs and compromises, which must be negotiated transparently and justly so that those most impacted have the strongest voice in shaping decisions. This is even more so as human demands on ecosystems increase just as climate change begins to upset their natural balance. This is what drives the need to be sure a majority of a community understands what changes a conservation project would bring, and what it asks of them. Where there is a majority who agree, there will always be a minority that does not. 

Shifting perspectives

Back in northern Kenya, Kelvin Lelemoyog was fueling his motorcycle at the one-pump gas station in the town of Archers’ Post located between many of the community conservancies in the soil carbon project. With a rueful smile, he pointed to a series of dented rubbish bins lining the street. 

“The carbon project paid for these bins, did anyone ask me if I wanted them? No,” he said. “They build a toilet for a school that costs more than a whole classroom without explaining why. The project is a good idea and grazing has improved, but people here struggle to understand carbon. We need more education, more meetings, more clarity on how money is used. They say they consult us, but it’s only happened maybe once. They still aren’t doing proper public participation.”

Over the road, a dozen young men gathered outside a small tea shop agreed. “We hear they have sold the carbon three times already but I have seen no benefits,” said one who gave his name only as Ibrahim. “The money just goes to certain powerful individuals,” said another, Mohamed Leeresh.  

Presented with these points later, Minkish Lenyakopiro, a youth leader from the nearby Kalama Conservancy sighed in frustration. “You can always find people who will tell you this thing [the carbon project] is corrupt or unjust but in my view they just don’t understand it or they feel they should be getting more from it than they do,” he said. 

“They think the carbon money is just sitting in someone’s account. But really, you have to apply if you want to use it, and then you’re given what you applied for if the community agrees. Before it would just be the men or the elders who decide, now every adult gets a vote. Before, we grazed our livestock everywhere. Now we plan, and get more grass plus the carbon money. It’s these misunderstandings that fuel criticism and unrealistic expectations.”

There was common ground between the close to 40 people across northern Kenya interviewed for this story: the project should continue. Kelvin, who criticized the Archer’s Post bins, praised the improved grazing. Mohamed and Ibrahim wanted to reform how money was handled but stopped short of calling for the project to close. The schoolgirls wanted to be sure their younger siblings got bursaries.

Indila Lesingiran, a community elder who joined his daughter-in-law Peresina showing off the community eco-lodge, said simply: “Yes it took time before people understood or accepted it, but now they really do. This is the only project I’ve seen where the benefits are really coming, which is bringing unity to our people who used to be in conflict. People have become used to it. If it stops, they will suffer.”

Fundamentally, the consent people give to projects like these must be ongoing and perpetually renewed. So must engagement with how projects are managed and governed, and how people can raise grievances. There is no moment when this work is done: it is by definition always in progress. Peter Ekal, the herder, said, “Anything new that comes, the community doesn’t understand the first time, but now we see the benefits, we know what we need to do, and we want this thing to continue.”