Once upon a time, there was conservation. Today, in Kenya, it is often called “wildlife farming”.
A grand, almost epic name: images of heroic rangers, saved forests, happy animals.

Then you go and take a look and discover that behind the sign there is a cage: inside, parrots that will never fly again, crocodiles that will never see rivers, turtles waiting for a customer to turn them into soup, and snakes that no charmer will ever be able to free.
In practice, while almost all conservancies claim to protect savannah felines and herbivores, many others, according to World Animal Protection, masquerade as havens of protection and observation for tourists, while in fact they breed wild animals to sell their meat or skins, and it is not certain that, given the nature of illegal trafficking, they do not do the same with other animals.

Conservation or canned goods?

The principle is simple: take a wild animal, put it in captivity and sell it, alive or in pieces.
For tourism, for the pet trade, for its skin, for its meat.
Not exactly the height of African poetry.
These are not refuges, but warehouses: small, bare enclosures, without enrichment or special care.
Paradise lost is the colour of concrete.

Numbers that are no fairy tale

A report with an eloquent title – Behind Bars – counted more cages than good intentions:

• over 70 wildlife farms across the country;
• more than 2,000 crocodiles crammed together to be turned into handbags and fillets;
• 637 birds, including exotic parrots and endangered species, with their wings seriously clipped;
• 186 various reptiles (turtles, snakes, lizards), kept in conditions that would be an understatement to describe as “rustic”;
• even zebras and antelopes, more suited to postcards than breeding, yet ending up on the same list.

The problem is not isolated cases: it is the system itself that has ceased to distinguish between sanctuary and warehouse.

When the cage becomes contagious

The issue is not just about animal suffering. These farms open windows that would be better left closed: because outside, you see animals captured in the wild “recycled” as captive-bred, the risk of new diseases jumping from one species to another, antibiotics used at random that create invincible bacteria, and tourists convinced they are funding conservation, when in fact they are paying for a ticket to a cage reality show.

Meanwhile, real habitats – those that could accommodate free animals – remain conspicuously absent from the narrative.

And in the end?

Organisations are asking the government to close the curtain: stop commercial farms, stricter laws, more investment in living nature. It would be an opportunity to restore Kenya's role as guardian of African wildlife, rather than a licensed jailer.

The hope is that true conservation will win out. The fear is that, as usual, money will win out. And at that point, rather than “wildlife”, all that will remain is an inventory of tightly closed cages.