The Guardians of Giza

Laikipia. Wild, rugged, remote. It’s a place that continues to pull at my heartstrings, and I’ve just returned from a 5-day guide training workshop at Laikipia Wilderness Camp — a stretch of land where cattle, community and conservation share the same soil.

Eight dedicated guides joined me for an intensive training programme, each one bringing with them stories, pressures, hopes, and questions. And at the centre of it all? One extraordinary leopard.

Giza.The black leopard of Laikipia.

Rare beyond words, and now a mother to two spotted cubs. Her presence alone has put Laikipia on the global map, drawing wildlife photographers and private photographic guides from far and wide. But with fame comes pressure — and the burden of that pressure is heaviest on the shoulders of the local guides.

Each day they are expected to deliver sightings of Giza — not just to see her, but to ensure a perfect photograph.

But Giza is no longer the cat she once was. With cubs to protect, she has become increasingly nocturnal, slinking through shadows after sundown and dragging her kills — usually dik-diks — into rocky, inaccessible terrain. She’s adapting, as wild animals must, to survive in a landscape now dominated by lenses and expectations.

The pressure on guides is relentless.

Requests become demands. Ethics become blurred. Guides are asked to edge closer, stay longer, push further.

And all for what? A few more likes on Instagram. A better cover shot. The ego-fuelled scramble for the perfect portfolio shot is eroding the very principles that good guiding is built upon. And it’s not just here. Across the wild world, guides are asked to cut off leopards in vehicles, wake sleeping lions, push jaguars into action, and make tigers walk the road.

It’s unsustainable. And more importantly, it’s wrong.

My mission at Laikipia Wilderness was simple: to help the guides find their centre.

To reframe the narrative.To rebuild their confidence.To arm them with the science behind Giza’s black coat — a genetic lottery of melanism that makes her not only unique, but fragile. To help them recognise the immense responsibility they carry — not just to show her, but to protect her.

We spoke about guiding ethics. About holding the line when others won’t. About being proud custodians of both animal and land.

But we also celebrated.

We explored the hidden magic of Laikipia — the small, easily missed stories that unfold each day in this landscape of granite, gneiss and grass. We explored my philosophy of the Theatre of Guiding, unlocking the power of passion, presence and personal storytelling.

We asked questions. We shared answers. We laughed.

Ultimately, this is a place that celebrates freedom — not only for animals, but for people too. Laikipia Wilderness is a working ranch, yes, but it also represents a rare, breathing space in Kenya’s wild tapestry.

My hope is that the guides I trained leave this workshop not just as better guides, but as stronger voices for this landscape.

Because guests may come for Giza. But they should leave with so much more.

If you’d like to experience the magic of Laikipia — from the elusive black leopard to the untamed beauty of the land — get in touch. And if you’re a lodge or guide team interested in one of my training workshops, I’d love to hear from you.