Braving bloodsucking leeches and the blazing Malaysian sun, four volunteers trudge along the heavily forested Marcus trail in Malaysia’s Sungai Yu ecological corridor, which plays a crucial role in connecting the two largest forested landscapes in the country – the Titiwangsa mountains and the 130-million-year-old Taman Negara rainforest, the largest national park in the country.
The trek is part of a boots-on-the-ground initiative called the Cat Walk, which engages volunteers in anti-poaching patrols and reforestation work for the conservation of the Malayan tiger (Panthera tigris jacksoni), a sub-species found only in the forests of Peninsular Malaysia.
Since 2015, the IUCN has listed the Malayan tiger as critically endangered. “Results of the national tiger survey, which were shared publicly in 2022, revealed there were fewer than 150 Malayan tigers in the wild,” says Dr Kae Kawanishi, head of conservation at the Malaysian Conservation Alliance for Tigers (Mycat). “These are scattered over large and increasingly fragmented forest complexes across the Malaysian peninsula.”
Launched in 2010 by Mycat, an alliance of several Malaysian conservation NGOs, and the Department of Wildlife and National Parks of Peninsular Malaysia to address the severe shortage of forest guards and rangers, the Cat (Citizen Action for Tigers) Walk has seen more than 2,500 volunteers from 38 countries participate. “This is possibly the only programme in the world where people can get involved with tiger conservation on the ground and make a real difference,” says Muna Noor, who leads the initiative.
Cat Walks are held most weekends for local volunteers and at least once a month for those coming from overseas, with a maximum of eight people on a walk.
The present group of Cat Walkers is led by Mycat’s Alex Jack and Hairiel Muhamad Nor, along with Noor. Using a machete to clear the overgrowth, Jack and Nor make way for the group to pass. The walkers keep an eye out for signs of snares, human encroachment and illegal logging, stopping to check a camera trap placed by Mycat along the trail. Nor teaches a volunteer, Francesca Failla, an Italian woman living in Singapore, how to retrieve the memory card from the camera trap.
With the card retrieved, the images are downloaded and scrutinised. Collective “oohs” and “aahs” fill the air as the volunteers identify elephants, tapirs, muntjac deer and other wildlife in the camera trap images. The highlight is a sambar deer, a favourite prey for tigers. “It has taken many years for tiger-prey species like the sambar, which were once extirpated in the corridor, to return,” says Noor. While no tigers were seen this time, given the sambar’s return, Noor remains cautiously optimistic.
Despite being actively on the lookout for snares and human encroachment, the team are relieved to find no signs of either. This is progress from the Cat Walk’s early days when volunteers would find traps regularly. Noor recalls one of her own experiences: “It was so upsetting when we came across a snare with a skeleton in it,” she says. “It could have been a bear, a leopard or a juvenile tiger.”
After several hours in the forest, the volunteers retrace their steps along the 4km Marcus trail and head back to their guesthouse in the village of Merapoh. They set out again early next morning on the Bukit Botak trail, which takes them through a different part of the corridor. In the Malay language, bukit means hill while botak means bald, the name indicative of the heavy deforestation that has occurred in the area. The volunteers spend the morning planting saplings of wild, fruiting species.
Over the years, Mycat has planted nearly 22,000 seedlings along the corridor. A team of 16, including six women from the Indigenous Batek community, are employed to ensure that the saplings receive sufficient aftercare. According to Jack, Mycat’s field conservation manager, the seedlings have a near 75% survival rate.
A nursery was started in 2016 to support the reforestation efforts and currently holds about 5,000 seedlings of 30 fruiting plants.
With the planting done, the group continues patrolling and checks another camera trap. Again there are images of sambar deer, along with several other wildlife species.
Soon they stumble on sambar footprints in the soft mud. They stop to measure the prints and document other details. “All the information gathered goes into a database,” says Noor. “We plot it on a map that tells us where the species are and where the potential threats are. That’s really important to us.”
Since the start of the Cat Walks, Batek men have begun to work as guides. Adi, who goes by a single name, is one of them. “I love bringing people into the forest and telling them about it,” he says in the Batek language. The Bateks share a close relationship with nature, and Adi views himself and his people as an extension of the forest.
“Sadly, the forest is being pushed towards more and more development,” he says. He talks about the forest being “open and bright”, indicative of the continuing deforestation in some parts, and is worried that the shrinking forest will push his community and the animals that live there into a conflict situation.
Mycat’s presence in the form of Cat Walks and other initiatives is comforting to Adi. “Their watchful eyes have prevented some of these forests from being cleared,” he says. “By taking care of the forest, Mycat is also taking care of us.”
For most first-time Cat Walkers, it has a profound impact. “This forest landscape is so exciting,” says Failla, who hasn’t visited Malaysia before. “I learned a lot during the Cat Walk and am happy to make a difference.” She is certain of joining another one in the future – volunteers from Malaysia and Singapore often return.
Despite the seemingly bleak outlook for the Malayan tiger, Kawanishi remains hopeful. “Keeping the corridor safe by working with the local community and reconnecting the public to nature through the Cat Walk programme offers the Malayan tiger a fighting chance of surviving into the next decade,” she says.
