Climate Change—When the Earth Burns

The earth is heating. The skies are shifting. And in the quiet corners of Africa’s wildest places, change arrives not with thunder—but with silence.

Climate change is not just a matter of rising seas and melting glaciers. It is drought on the Serengeti, cracked riverbeds in the Okavango, and vanishing grasslands beneath the feet of elephants. It is shifting rainfall patterns that confuse migratory herds, and hotter temperatures that push already vulnerable species toward the edge.

Africa’s iconic wildlife—majestic lions, wise old elephants, and countless others—are facing a future where the land they depend on is no longer dependable.

According to NASA, global surface temperatures have risen 2.1°F (1.2°C) since the late 19th century. In Africa, this warming is accelerating desertification, drying up waterholes, and shrinking key ecosystems. Entire food chains are being disrupted.

When the Earth Burns Beneath Them: Climate Change and the Fall of Africa’s Wildlife

wildlife extinction crisis

Before the wild forgets how to sing

Elephants, already under threat from poaching and habitat loss, now face longer, harsher droughts. In Kenya alone, over 200 elephants died from drought in 2022—not from bullets, but from thirst. Their long migrations, once aligned with seasonal rains, are now broken by unpredictable weather.

Lions, too, are fading into myth. With fewer than 20,000 remaining in the wild, they are losing both prey and territory. Rising heat weakens cubs and reduces reproduction. As herbivores struggle to survive in drier conditions, so too do the great predators that rely on them.

Even the insects are vanishing. Pollinators decline, disrupting entire food systems. One missing link leads to another, until the silence spreads.

This isn’t just about Africa. This is about a planet unraveling at its most fragile seams. Climate change is a wildlife crisis. Every degree of warming echoes in the animal kingdom—in the broken call of a bird, in the elephant’s cracked skin, in the lion’s empty stare.

And yet, there is still time. If we protect their land, if we reduce emissions, if we act with urgency and reverence, perhaps the silence can be reversed.

But we must move quickly.

Before the wild forgets how to sing.