Daniel Allen ventures into Rwanda’s Nyungwe Forest National Park — an ancient rainforest sanctuary where primates rule the treetops
Clutching my camera above my head, like a man wading through a river with an automatic weapon, I push into the thick undergrowth. I’m not sure whether to look up into the treetops or down at the mass of branches, roots and tendrils that threaten to send me sprawling with every footstep.
My guide, Jacques Habimana – who seems as sure-footed as a mountain goat in this botanical obstacle course – stops, touches my arm and points to a spot in the canopy about 50 metres away.
‘Colobus,’ he says. ‘A lot of colobus.’
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Having arrived in Nyungwe Forest National Park – which sprawls like a green blanket across the highlands of southwest Rwanda – that morning, I’m still adjusting to local conditions. Beneath the dense canopy, the air hangs warm and musty, thick with the scent of damp earth and vegetation. Shafts of light create dappled patterns on the forest floor, illuminating curling ferns and moss-covered trunks that give the landscape a distinctly primordial feel.
At first, I struggle to find anything through my lens. Then, a faint stirring of leaves catches my eye – a single black- and-white animal with a long trailing tail is grooming itself on a branch. Moments later, more monkeys appear: a procession of Ruwenzori black-and-white colobus, jumping from tree to tree. What seems like a small family quickly swells into something far more impressive.
One after another, a huge troop of monkeys materialises from the foliage – their silky, U-shaped mantles billowing behind them. Mothers leap with infants clinging to their fur; juveniles chase each other through the treetops in reckless arcs. Against the dense green forest, they flash in striking monochrome, an overhead wildlife ballet.
Nyungwe is the only forest in Africa where colobus congregate in enormous super-groups, sometimes numbering more than 400 individuals. The animals are habituated for tourism, which means visitors can observe them at close range without disturbing their natural behaviour. Today, even the colobus trackers – who follow the monkeys each day to learn more about their behaviour and help tourists find them – seem excited.
In minutes, as swiftly as they appeared, the colobus slip away, melting into the forest as they search out the choicest leaves and seasonal fruits. The canopy stills and the rustle of bodies and high- pitched chorus of clicks and cries fades, until only the distant call of a hornbill drifts through the trees. As introductory wildlife encounters go, Nyungwe has set the bar high – as lofty as the crowns of its mighty mahogany trees.
‘Now you understand why they call this the land of the primates,’ says Jacques with a grin, as we make our way back to the park’s Gisakura Reception Centre. Our return route winds past the cascade of the Ndambarare waterfall, before emerging onto a trail that cuts cleanly through the manicured green
rows of a tea plantation – a reminder of how wilderness and cultivation co-exist on the fringes of Nyungwe.
Nyungwe Forest National Park – designated one of Rwanda’s first UNESCO World Heritage sites in 2023 – is a globally significant haven of biodiversity. Encompassing more than 1,000 square kilometres of ancient Afromontane rainforest, it shelters more than 1,000 plant species, nearly 350 bird species, 85 mammal species and 13 primate species – with chimpanzees and Ruwenzori colobus the star attractions. Since 2020, the park has been managed by African Parks, which oversees 23 protected areas in 13 different countries.
The following morning begins with a rush of adrenaline on the park’s new zipline, before I return to the forest with my guide for the day in search of more primates. The calls of distant colobus echo through the canopy, but it’s a troop of silver monkeys that captures our attention. For nearly an hour, we watch them feeding, chasing and tumbling through the forest. Draped in coats of silvery grey, they leap with astonishing agility from one bough to the next, unfazed by our presence below.
As one of its core objectives, African Parks is transforming Nyungwe into a model of sustainable, conservation-led tourism. By upgrading infrastructure and enhancing visitor experiences, the NGO is establishing the park as a premier nature-based tourism destination, with a revenue-sharing programme that ensures local communities benefit directly – creating jobs, reducing poaching and improving livelihoods. Generating more income from tourism also means more money can be funnelled into conservation efforts.
Munazi Lodge, which is managed by African Parks, exemplifies this approach. I spent the night in one of its luxurious wooden chalets. As dusk deepens, the forest comes alive with sound – a nocturnal symphony of crickets, frogs and the occasional distant call of a primate echoing through the surrounding valleys.
The following day begins in darkness, with the anticipation of encountering Nyungwe’s most alluring resident – the chimpanzee. At dawn, my guide and I drive along a road of compacted rust-red soil, past well-kept villages and groups of schoolchildren in uniform on their way to class. Our destination is Cyamudongo, a small, isolated fragment of ancient forest – severed from the main body of Nyungwe by decades of agricultural expansion, yet still harbouring a 30-strong population of habituated chimps.
Meeting up with a small group of other eager tourists on the edge of Cyamudongo, we set off on foot, a winding track taking us ever deeper into the rainforest. The air is close and filled with the sounds of birdsong.
One of our guides holds up his hand, and suddenly the landscape around us erupts – a volley of hoots and screams reverberating through the trees. Despite the early hour, the chimpanzees are clearly awake and excited.
I scramble up a steep, slippery hillside, holding my camera in one hand and roots and vines in the other. A tracker beckons me forward and points further up the slope. Just a stone’s throw away, a small group of chimps are descending from their nightly nests. Reaching the forest floor, they move slowly through the undergrowth, eyeing us with nonchalant curiosity. A large male, his pate and cheeks framed with silvery grey fur, stops close by to survey his domain, scratches lazily and fixes me with a pair of intelligent amber eyes.
For a few long minutes, we study each other in the midst of the forest – his broad shoulders at ease, the elongated fingers of one hand curled loosely around a moss-covered trunk. His bleached whiskers and heavily wrinkled face lend him an air of age and authority, and I almost feel guilty lifting my camera without asking permission. Then, with one final scratch, he throws back his head and issues a deafening pant-hoot, lips curled to reveal a mouthful of sharp, yellowing teeth. He turns and moves off down the slope.
To find out more, visit: africanparks.org/the-parks/nyungwe and visitnyungwe.org
