South Africa’s provincial nature reserves are dying — and with them, our conservation legacy

South Africa’s provincial nature reserves, the quiet custodians of our country’s natural heritage, are in freefall. Once envisioned as sanctuaries of biodiversity and engines of rural development, they are now symbols of systemic neglect. Collapsing infrastructure, rampant poaching, staff shortages and bureaucratic paralysis have pushed many of these reserves to the brink of extinction.  

A new investigation by the EMS Foundation into 53 provincial reserves across all nine provinces paints a stark picture: only three (5.6%) are functioning as intended. The rest are in various stages of decay, abandonment or repurposing, often for hunting or grazing. The consequences are catastrophic, not just for wildlife, but for communities, climate resilience and South Africa’s often proclaimed status global reputation as a conservation leader. 

A hidden crisis in plain sight

South Africa prides itself on being one of the most biodiverse nations on Earth. It is said we harbour 7% of all plant species, 7% of bird species, 5% of mammals and 4% of reptiles globally. Our landscapes are home to 87,000 known species. This is an extraordinary inheritance by any measure. Yet the report reveals that the very lands entrusted to safeguard this wealth are falling apart.  

Across provinces, the same pattern emerges: chronic underfunding, failing infrastructure and shrinking staff capacity. Roads are impassable, fences collapsed, accommodation rotting, and once-popular reserves are shuttered indefinitely. Many reserves have disappeared altogether, some exist only on paper, and others have been overrun by illegal grazing and settlement.

Poaching and snaring are rife, exacerbated by unemployment and weak enforcement. Invasive species such as black wattle and Port Jackson choke ecosystems. In Limpopo and Mpumalanga, staff report going months without pay; in KwaZulu-Natal, Ezemvelo KZN Wildlife battles mismanagement, funding shortfalls and escalating rhino killings. North West and the Free State have effectively converted much of their conservation estate into seasonal hunting grounds, prioritising revenue over ecological integrity.  

This isn’t mismanagement in isolation – it is a systemic collapse of provincial conservation governance.

Paper parks and empty promises

South Africa’s protected areas make up just 9.2% of our land surface. This is far short of the 30% target enshrined in the Kunming-Montreal Global Biodiversity Framework (GBF), to which South Africa is a signatory. But even this modest coverage is misleading. The EMS investigation found that many provincial reserves function as “paper parks” – legally proclaimed, but effectively abandoned.  

The National Environmental Management: Protected Areas Act (NEM:PAA) mandates the state to act as trustee of these lands “for the benefit of present and future generations”. Yet, provincial departments have neither the capacity nor the will to meet this obligation. Some, like Limpopo’s Modjadji Nature Reserve, once home to rare cycads, have been closed since 2019, now overrun by poachers and invaders. Others, such as the Northern Cape’s Akkerendam and Limpopo’s Hans Merensky, have no staff at all.  

In the Free State, reserves like Willem Pretorius, Tussen-die-Riviere and Soetdoring are dominated by commercial hunting and wildlife auctions. In North West, the Free State and Eastern Cape, public access is routinely suspended during hunting season, while Limpopo’s Ma’nombe Reserve issues hunting permits despite being closed. The ethical and ecological contradiction is staggering: land meant for preservation is being monetised through destruction.  

Conservation without people is failing

Behind the crumbling fences and empty ranger stations lies another fracture: the broken relationship between reserves and surrounding communities.  

In several provinces, unresolved land claims and historic exclusion have festered into open conflict. At Dwesa-Cwebe in the Eastern Cape, violent disputes over fishing and resource access have led to injuries and property damage. At Mthethomusha in Mpumalanga, a 2021 community uprising burned down the main lodge – it has never been rebuilt. Land invasions and community resentment are rife in KZN’s Ndumo and Mpumalanga’s Songimvelo, the latter being the largest of the country’s provincial reserves.

When local people see no benefit from conservation, they see no reason to protect it. True sustainability depends on shared ownership and equitable benefit-sharing – not just rhetoric. The EMS report emphasises that resolving land disputes and building genuine partnerships with communities is as vital as funding and enforcement.  

The economic fallout

Provincial reserves are not only ecological assets but potential economic lifelines. Properly managed, they can drive rural tourism, create jobs and attract investment into peripheral regions. Yet today, most are economic dead zones.  

Tourism infrastructure, once the backbone of local livelihoods, has decayed beyond usability. Booking systems are dysfunctional, signs are missing and an online presence is almost nonexistent. Reserves that could once host visitors are now closed “for refurbishment” indefinitely. The collapse of ecotourism has stripped communities of income, reinforcing cycles of poverty and dependence.  

In contrast, the few success stories, such as Madikwe in North West, Goegap in the Northern Cape, part of Mkambati in the Eastern Cape and De Mond in the Western Cape, illustrate what is possible when reserves are well managed, adequately funded and supported by private or community partnerships. These outliers demonstrate that revitalisation is achievable – but only with vision, transparency and political will.  

An institutional breakdown

The fragmentation of conservation governance across provinces is a major barrier to reform. Each province operates independently, often underresourced departments or parastatals such as Ezemvelo KZN Wildlife or CapeNature. Oversight is inconsistent, and coordination with the national Department of Forestry, Fisheries and the Environment (DFFE) is weak.

Financial mismanagement is endemic. The EMS report found irregular expenditure, corruption and lack of maintenance planning across most provinces. Where funds exist, they are often diverted to non-conservation activities or consumed by administrative overheads elsewhere. In some cases, staff report having no vehicles, radios or ammunition and fuel for anti-poaching patrols.

This dysfunction is not new but it has deepened. A 2018 national review already flagged severe budget shortfalls. Seven years later, the situation has deteriorated further. As the report concludes: “Without urgent, coordinated intervention and reform, South Africa’s conservation targets will not be met.”  

The way forward

Fixing this crisis will require more than symbolic statements. It demands a national rescue plan for provincial conservation, one that is anchored in transparency, funding and accountability.  

The EMS Foundation and others have proposed several key actions:

• Increase and stabilise funding for provincial conservation authorities, with conditional grants tied to performance and audited outcomes;
• Rehabilitate infrastructure and restore essential services such as roads, fences and visitor facilities;
• Rebuild staffing capacity by hiring qualified, motivated conservation professionals;
• Forge genuine partnerships with local communities to ensure fair benefit-sharing and conflict resolution; and
• Enhance national oversight by the DFFE, ensuring that provincial mandates align with the GBF and NEM:PAA.

These are not radical demands – they are the bare minimum to fulfil constitutional and international obligations.  

A call to conscience

South Africa’s conservation legacy was built by generations who understood that natural heritage is a national trust, and an important inheritance for local communities, not a provincial burden. Yet today, that trust is being betrayed.  

The decay of our provincial reserves is not just an environmental issue, it is a social, moral and governance crisis. Every collapsed fence, every poached rhino, every abandoned gatehouse tells a story of neglect and lost opportunity.

If we cannot protect what we already have, our pledges to expand protected areas and conserve 30% of our land by 2030 ring hollow. The time for polite concern has passed. What is needed now is political courage, administrative reform and public pressure.  

The world is watching, but more importantly, future generations are waiting. Whether they inherit thriving ecosystems or empty landscapes will depend on what South Africa does next. DM