“Ta’ali, ta’ali… come, come,” Ahmed Hanash whispered, as he stealthily approached a timid young buck of the endangered Nubian ibex standing statuesque on the escarpment of clay-colored cliffs. This endemic species is being reintroduced into a protected habitat in Soudah’s King Abdullah National Park as part of a rewilding program to improve regional biodiversity.
Formerly a traffic policeman in Riyadh, but native to Soudah, Ahmed fell into environmental conservation by chance. Raised in a family with livestock herds, he had learned to take care of goats since childhood, nurturing them and treating their wounds and fractures.
With his natural affinity for wildlife, Ahmed Hanash seems to have won the trust of the elusive Nubian Ibex in Soudah. Photograph by Rena Effendi
A few years ago, when his mother’s health worsened, Ahmed moved back to his hometown. “I wasted two years doing other jobs. I’ve always loved nature and all living creatures,” Ahmed said. When an advert for the caretaker’s position was published, Ahmed applied immediately and got the job.
“The ibex are intelligent and cautious animals with the characteristics of a regular goat, which are very familiar to me,” he said.
Dr. Jacky Judas, a conservation biologist in charge of the re-wilding project, led me into the enclosure set amid a juniper forest, a place where the ibex are cared for. A four–meter fence keeps them safe—barbed concertina wire prevents baboon intrusions, while the base of the fence, reinforced with rocks, stops feral dogs from digging in.
Dr. Jacky Judas is heading up the rewilding project in Soudah’s Red Rock region, carefully tending to the landscape and wildlife in efforts to recover and protect native species. Photograph by Rena Effendi
Dressed in a leaf patterned camouflage vest and slenderly built, Ahmed carried a branch of hopbush, shaking it gingerly as he walked towards a small herd lurking in the trees. One by one, the ibex came out of hiding, lured by the smell of herbs. Ahmed rolled a wheelbarrow with alfalfa and poured water into plastic tubs.
Dr. Judas told me that the animals were so familiar with Ahmed that they fed from his hands. Everyone else had to keep their distance.
Standing a dozen yards behind, I watched an ibex buck with impressive, crescent-shaped horns separate from the herd and trot confidently towards Ahmed. The buck stood up on his hind legs and placed his front hooves gently on Ahmed’s chest while munching on a leafy branch from his hand.
“Wallah, I swear to God, this is my true love,” said Ahmed, beaming with joy.
Fifteen ibex were transported to Red Rock in 2021 from the captive breeding center of the National Center for Wildlife in Al-Thumamah’s King Khalid Center for Wildlife Research, an arid lowland desert about 50 miles north of Riyadh. There were nine births in captivity, as the ibex adapted to local climate and vegetation under the team’s watchful eye.
A Nubian ibex buck stands amid the lush and verdant landscape of Soudah. Photograph by Rena Effendi
Ahmed named each ibex based on his perception of their individual character traits, giving them names like Reem, Rose, Maha, Marwa, and Shaden for the does, and Gafal, Wallan, Ghaith, Fazza, and Tamim for the bucks. Among the herd is a skittish one and an ignorant one, and one who is a natural leader. Ghaith means the blessing of the rain, Tamim means beautiful. “They recognize my voice when I call them,” said Ahmed, smiling.
Single and in his late thirties, Ahmed lives with his elderly parents in Soudah, tending to their health. A carer through and through, he walks on the Red Rock escarpment every day with a radio telemetry device tracking the ibex movements and collecting data from their collars, which are equipped with GPS, radio and satellite transmission, as well as activity and mortality sensors.
The rocks loom over the pristine forest of juniper trees, where weaver bird nests hang low, but this was not always an idyllic landscape. Dr. Judas told me that his project team had removed over 200 tons (180,000 kilograms) of solid waste, plastic, steel and blocks of concrete from the area to prepare it for animal re-introductions. Laborers also physically removed 220 tons (200,000 kilograms) of invasive species of cacti from the national park, access to which is now restricted to humans and partially fenced off.
Before reintroducing the ibex, tons of manmade waste and invasive plant species had to be removed from the national park. Photograph by Rena Effendi
In February 2023, all the ibex were released into the wild. Unfortunately, Ghaith, Wallan and Fazza died fighting during the mating season, defeated by Tamim, their male rival. One ibex was poached and four fell to local predators. However, three females managed to breed in the wild, which is a marker of the project’s success, according to Dr. Judas.
At dawn, as the sun rays touched the jagged rocks, Ahmed tracked an ibex herd by lifting up his radio antennae and tuning in to the waves of static and beeps on the receiver. An adult female appeared on the horizon with a younger ibex next to her. Ahmed picked up his binoculars. “This is Rose,” he said, pointing to a doe with a kid. His gaze became concerned, as he spotted a troop of baboons edging alarmingly close to the ibex on a hill across the escarpment.
Rose and her kid serve as a symbol of hope for the recovery of the species. Photograph by Rena Effendi
In a swift and decisive action, the baboons barked and leapt towards the ibex. Rose darted away, her kid scampering behind, but the troop swiftly splintered into smaller groups, chasing the kid, and circling to isolate him. Ahmed put down his radio and ran at inhuman speed towards the baboons, shrieking at them and forcing them to scatter. The kid managed to escape unharmed and was later reunited with his mother.
“Rose and I went through a lot together,” said Ahmed. He explained that Rose was the first doe to give birth in the wild. A few weeks before delivery, she strayed from the herd. Ahmed tracked her for days making sure she was safe. On the day of delivery, he sat with her for hours protecting her from predators.
As the midday sun whitewashed the terraces of the escarpment, Rose and her kid found a safe place to huddle and dozed off. Rose’s collar no longer gives out signals, but Ahmed persists with visual monitoring. “I search for her every day until I find her and make sure she is safe.” He has memorized all of Rose’s favorite spots on the escarpment and the best times to track her, mainly at dawn.
Rose and her kid curl up and enjoy an epic view. As they rest, the work of conservationists in the Red Rock region continues. Photograph by Rena Effendi
Ahmed told me that his dream is to see high numbers of animals roaming the cliffs of Red Rock—a dream shared by Dr. Jacky Judas and other conservationists in the area. “There is harmony between me and the ibex, but it’s in their nature to be afraid of humans. I feel very sad when something happens to them,” said Ahmed.
His dedication to the ibex is a testament to the power of human connection with nature. His unwavering commitment to their protection and well-being is not only inspiring, but also crucial for the success of the rewilding project. As the sun dips below the horizon, casting long shadows across the escarpment, Ahmed stands tall, a guardian of these magnificent creatures. His story is a beacon of hope, demonstrating that with passion, perseverance, and a deep-rooted connection to the land, it is possible to restore balance to the natural world.
