Photo courtesy of Joshua Laizer
Joshua Laizer is a Maasai pastoralist and advocate who is working to raise drought-resilient cattle and connect other herders with green pastures using satellite maps on smartphones. In a GEF Voices interview, he shared how he has combined his degree in economics and natural resource management with ancient wisdom from his grandfather, and offered career advice to the next generation: “The world needs proud, educated, and connected pastoralists. That can be you.”
What do you do for a living?
I am a born-and-raised Maasai Pastoralist. I wake up before sunrise to check on my cattle. I am a pastoralist; this is not just what I do, it is who I am. I also run a small breeding business, Nalepo Livestock Service, where I am trying to raise stronger, healthier animals that can survive these new, harsher droughts. During the day, I work with Afriscout, helping other herders use satellite maps on their phones to find green pasture without walking for days and wasting their animals' energy. And I co-founded the Tanzania Conservation and Community Empowerment Initiative and the Pastoralist Youth Alliance – Africa because I got tired of waiting for someone else to speak for us.
What are you currently focused on?
Currently, my primary focus is on this question: how can we attract private investment into our beef systems without compromising our values? The STELARR project is helping me figure out how to make our beef profitable while keeping our grasslands healthy.
How did you get into this line of work?
I did not choose this work; it chose me, like the land chooses the grass. From the age of five, I was already herding calves and goats alongside my grandfather. He taught me to read the stars and the clouds, and to tell the difference between real rain and a false promise.
Over time, those false rains became more common. I watched our cattle grow thin and die. I also saw boys my age leave school to embrace pastoralism with pride, even as others looked down on our way of life. Seeing both the world’s misunderstanding of pastoralists and the droughts destroying our heritage and livelihood, I knew I had to act. I went to university because I was angry, angry that people saw us as backward, and angry that drought was erasing our knowledge. I studied economics and natural resource management not to leave my community, but to return with something useful. Today, I am still herding, still learning, and still working to show that a Maasai boy with a smartphone and deep respect for his grandfather’s wisdom can make a difference.
Is there a GEF-funded project or program that is close to your heart?
Sustainable Investments for Large-Scale Rangeland Restoration (STELARR). It is close to my heart because it sees something that most people miss: that pastoralists are not a problem to be solved, but a solution to be supported. Through STELARR, I am learning how to engage with private companies and demonstrate that investing in pastoralist beef is not charity, but good business. But here is what matters to me: STELARR does not ask me to become a factory farmer. It asks me how we can do this our way, moving the herds, resting the land, letting the grass recover, and still earn a fair price. That is the dream that my children can be pastoralists, proud and prosperous, on land that is green and alive. And through my day-to-day work with Afriscout and other pastoralist engagements, I have gained confidence to advocate for rangelands transformation as the business model and as the pastoralist present and future investment.
Has anyone you have met through your work made a lasting impact on you?
I have met many people who have inspired me, but one person has had a lasting impact. In 2022, I met Fiona Flintan, a scientist at ILRI whose commitment to pastoral systems, rangelands, and the people who care for them is extraordinary. She did not just inspire me; she treated me as a young pastoralist and colleague, not as a project or a beneficiary. Since then, she has opened doors for me and for other pastoralists, especially youth and women. She challenges us to do better than we did yesterday and creates opportunities for us to speak and share our perspectives on the realities of rangelands. Through the STELARR project, I had life-changing opportunities to speak at COP16 and the Global Roundtable on Sustainable Beef, places I never imagined a herder from Loliondo would reach. She helped me believe that my story, and our story, deserve to be heard. Because of her, I stopped apologizing for being a pastoralist. I began fighting for it.
What life lessons has your job taught you?
The land does not forget, but it can forgive if you give it time. My grandfather taught me that, and I now see it for myself when we rest in pasture, and the grass returns thicker than before. I have also learned that technologies and innovations, and our grandfather’s ecological knowledge, can coexist. I use Afriscout’s satellite maps, but I still ask elders about hidden water holes, shifting landscapes, and changing weather patterns. Technology shows me the broader picture; the elders show me the deeper truth. And finally, I have learned patience. You cannot force a community; you walk beside it. In fact, in my experience, the communities have more to teach us than we teach them from science. They understand their landscapes that science does. Change is slow, like rain in the dry season. But when it comes, it changes everything.
The state of the global environment is concerning. What gives you hope?
Young people give me hope. I see it in the Pastoralist Youth Alliance, young men and women who grew up herding as I did, went to school, saw the wider world, and chose to return. They are not ashamed of being pastoralists. They are planting grass on bare land, using apps to plan their movements and avoid overgrazing, speaking with confidence in meetings with government officials to advocate for their rights, and investing in the system. The community is watching, trusting them. That is what gives me hope, not distant promises, but the quiet courage of young people who choose to stay and fight for their homes and their future. If the world listened to us, supported us, and trusted us to lead where we know best, we could heal so much land.
What advice would you give a young person who is interested in a career like yours?
Don't lose sight of who you are. I know the city seems bright, and I know people laugh when you say you want to be a herder. But our knowledge is ancient, and it's needed now more than ever. Learn everything you can about science, business, and technology, but bring it back to your people. Start small. I began with a few family cows and a dream. Find your community, your alliance, because you can't carry the weight alone. And when you find someone who believes in you, don't waste that gift. Work harder than they expect. Prove them right. The world needs proud, educated, and connected pastoralists. That can be you. But first, you must love the land enough to stay.
All photos courtesy of Joshua Laizer
