Dr Alexander Braczkowski
Dr Alexander Braczkowski—who completed his MSc on leopards at the University of Oxford and a PhD on African lions at the University of Queensland—has dedicated his career to studying the densities of Africa’s carnivores, particularly in Uganda.
As he leaned in during our Skype call, his face almost touching the screen, it was clear that for Braczkowski, this work goes beyond his recent publications on ScienceDirect: Insights into Large Carnivore Populations in Uganda: A Participatory Survey of Lions, Leopards, and Hyenas Using Spatial Capture-Recapture.
The publication culminated from Braczkowski’s journey into wildlife conservation in Uganda around 2018, as he worked on his PhD thesis. Since then, he has coordinated a team of about 100 conservationists, mostly Ugandans, leading them into surveying six protected areas across Uganda, hence the carnivore census.
“This is the largest wildlife census ever undertaken in Uganda,” Braczkowski said. “It’s also the most comprehensive assessment of lions, leopards, and hyenas ever done in the country.”
Heart of the challenge
Braczkowski’s face softened as he talked about his team’s recent survey of Uganda’s carnivores. He paused, running his fingers through his hair, clearly reflecting on the state of the animals.
“The good news is we found a healthy population of lions in Murchison Falls,” he said, with a small smile. The park, he explained, still has between 250 and 270 lions. “But the bad news is, the numbers in Queen Elizabeth and Kidepo are much lower.”
He leaned in closer, his expression more serious. “Spotted hyenas are doing well across Uganda. Leopards seem to be holding their own, too, especially in places like Lake Mburo and Murchison. [...] If you ask anyone who’s worked in these parks for a long time, they’ll tell you that 20 years ago, if you went to Ishasha, you’d see 10 lions in a tree. Now, you’re lucky to see one or two,” he said.
Braczkowski’s work in Uganda is more than just counting lions; it is about building the foundation for lasting scientific infrastructure.
“The scientific capacity in Uganda isn’t as well developed as in other parts of Africa. So my focus has been on training Uganda Wildlife Authority (UWA) rangers, students from Makerere University, and independent scientists—to conduct wildlife censuses directly in protected areas,” he said.
His goal is to ensure the work continues as a norm.
“It’s not enough to gather data every few years. These surveys should be happening regularly—ideally every year. Without that, we’re flying blind.”
Braczkowski paused for a moment, his expression growing serious. “What this means,” he continued, “is that if we don’t monitor wildlife regularly, the animals may be extinct before anyone notices.”
Lessons from a Meerkat
To explain the importance of monitoring, Braczkowski invoked an unlikely character—one that even casual viewers of The Lion King would recognise: “Do you know Timon?” he asked, his voice lightening for a moment. “The wisecracking meerkat, always with Pumbaa?”
I nodded, amused at the comparison.
“The meerkat group is fascinating,” Braczkowski continued. “They have this sentinel—someone who sits in an elevated spot, watching for danger. If a bird of prey is nearby, the sentinel calls out—tchk-tchk-tchk—and the whole group runs for cover.”
He paused, making sure I was following. “That sentinel is crucial for protecting the group. Without it, they’d be sitting ducks.”
Braczkowski leaned back slightly, the tone shifting. “And that’s what our wildlife monitoring programme in Uganda is. It’s our sentinel. We’ve been tracking carnivore populations, and when we see something like a lion population plummeting, we know we need to act. For example, if we estimate in Kidepo, there are only about 12 lions left, yet it is said just 15 years ago, there were 100. Then you’d be wondering, what’s happening?”
Financial strain
While Uganda’s wildlife holds immense potential for tourism-driven conservation, the financial realities of the sector are far bleaker.
Braczkowski didn’t shy away from discussing the chronic underfunding facing the country’s national parks.
“I don’t think the Ugandan Government has the resources to invest in conservation,” he said, his voice tinged with frustration.
“Unfortunately, this is going to largely remain a scientific aid mission. The money is going to come from external parties.”
Despite the lack of government funding, he believes there’s potential for partnerships that could change the game.
In particular, Braczkowski sees an opportunity in Murchison Falls National Park, where he believes the government could collaborate with the French oil company Total to safeguard the local lion population.
“A lot of people view oil extraction as a negative thing,” he acknowledged, “but I think it’s positive.”
He explained that TotalEnergies, with its multi-billion-dollar annual revenue, could be a powerful ally in conservation.
“Imagine if they donated a million dollars to anti-poaching efforts every year? It could have a massive positive impact on lions and other wildlife in the park.”
The conversation took a sharp turn as we discussed the tensions between national interests and environmental activism. Braczkowski pointed out:
“Any activist is going to get thrown out before the oil company gets thrown out.”
He paused briefly, allowing the weight of his words to settle.
“That oil is going to be one of the biggest lifebloods of Uganda’s economy. Those 10,000 barrels of oil coming out of the park every day—it’s money that not only helps repay Uganda’s debts but also supports the national economy. So, you’re never going to stop it.”
Despite the inevitability of oil extraction, Braczkowski believes working with companies like TotalEnergies is essential for finding long-term solutions.
“There should be a way of dealing with that entity where they can actually be Uganda’s ally,” he explained.
“They can potentially stop some of the illegal activities in the park, specifically wire snare poaching.”
Lasting legacy
As our conversation drew to a close, the conviction in Braczkowski’s voice was projected.
“You know, the problem with a lot of science and wildlife conservation is that people come to a country, like they’ll come to Uganda, do their PhD thesis, and then leave and never come back,” he said, his tone steady and serious.
“So how do you make the work live on?”
This question is at the heart of Braczkowski’s mission in Uganda. It’s not enough to document Uganda’s wildlife; he is working to ensure the conservation efforts outlast him.
His vision is clear: to create systems of knowledge, access, and sustainability that will endure, empowering local communities to protect their natural heritage.
Braczkowski’s focus is on Uganda’s carnivores—lions, leopards, and hyenas—but it is the lions that have captured his imagination.
He describes one of the most striking behaviours he’s ever witnessed: a pride of lions in Queen Elizabeth National Park, not on the ground as expected, but 40 feet up in the trees.
“You know, we know that leopards climb trees, but it’s a truly amazing thing to see an animal three times the size of a leopard—a lion—in a tree,” he said with awe.
“Seeing a whole pride of lions, eight or nine lions, sitting in the branches—it’s something you won’t forget for the rest of your life because it happens so rarely.”
This behaviour, unique to only a few places in Africa, is one of the reasons Braczkowski is so passionate about saving Uganda’s lions.
“What you’re seeing in Uganda only happens in about three places in the whole of Africa,” he said.
“It would be a mighty shame if the lions in Queen Elizabeth went extinct."
