Marsabit: In northern Kenya, a herder scans the sky for rain that hasn’t come. The grass his animals need is thinning by the day. He’s not alone; from Africa’s grasslands to the salt-crusted plains of Central Asia, this same story is playing out for millions of people who depend on land many people may never think about: Rangelands.
According to United Nations, rangelands, which are found on every continent apart from Antarctica, are the grasslands, shrublands, and drylands that don’t get farmed in the traditional sense but are nevertheless a key part of the world’s food system. Two billion people rely on them for food, livestock, and livelihoods. They supply nearly 70 percent of the world’s livestock feed. Yet, up to 40 percent are already degraded or at risk of vanishing, worn down by drought, overgrazing, and years of being overlooked.
When a rangeland fails, it isn’t an abstract environmental loss. It’s a family’s herd with nothing to eat, a market with fewer animals to sell, a community’s food security
unravelling in real-time. Three countries, each with unique challenges, highlight the urgent need for action. In Botswana, rangelands cover much of the country and underpin its economy, from beef exports to safari tourism. However, a recent nationwide ecosystem assessment revealed that grasslands are shrinking as invasive plants spread and droughts hit harder, leaving less time for the land to recover.
The Aral Sea in Central Asia, once the world’s fourth-largest lake, has largely vanished, leaving a 5.4-million-hectare salt desert behind. In the neighboring Kyzylorda region, over 80 percent of pastures are now degraded, and toxic dust storms carry salt for thousands of kilometers. It is a stark example of how an environmental disaster in one place can poison land and livelihoods far beyond its borders.
Marsabit County in northern Kenya is home to the Chalbi desert. Satellite records dating back to 1990 show grasslands steadily turning to barren ground, with the desert projected to double in size within dec
ades if nothing changes, swallowing the pastures that generations of pastoralist communities have relied on.
Across all three countries, the response follows a similar, hopeful pattern: pairing hard data with the knowledge of the people who live on the land. Botswana built its national ecosystem assessment with more than 2,000 contributors, including government bodies, researchers, and traditional knowledge holders, creating an evidence base to guide future land policy. Kazakhstan commissioned a detailed study of the links between climate, land, and water, now shaping pasture restoration and irrigation plans, alongside a saxaul tree replanting program on the dried seabed. Kenya combined 33 years of satellite data with the memories of Indigenous elders, feeding into practical solutions such as flood-diverting structures and vegetation regrowth initiatives.
The challenges rangelands face are due to be discussed at a UN desertification conference in Ulaanbaatar, Mongolia. The Biodiversity and Ecosystem Service
s Network (BES-Net) is one of the flagship initiatives of the UN Development Programme Nature Pledge, focusing on strengthening efforts to protect and restore the planet. What connects these landscapes is a simple lesson: restoration sticks when people see their own knowledge and experience reflected in the solution. Data alone doesn’t save a rangeland; trust, ownership, and lived expertise do. For the herder still watching the sky, that combination might be the difference between a herd that survives and one that doesn’t.