In July 2025, veteran safari guide Nick Kleer was leading a trip in Tanzania’s Serengeti during the height of East Africa’s famous Great Migration when he witnessed a chaotic and disturbing scene: More than 150 vehicles swarmed a single river-crossing point, blocking wildebeest migration routes and creating a crush of tourists so overwhelming that it threatened both animal and human safety. Kleer took to social media to express his outrage, and the video ignited a wave of conversation across the safari industry about overtourism in the Serengeti-Mara ecosystem, which spans northern Tanzania and southern Kenya.
Based in South Africa, Kleer has been guiding for 16 years; he worked at some of Africa’s most iconic lodges (including Londolozi and Thornybush Game Lodge), before becoming a private guide.
As a travel journalist who has been visiting Africa’s wilderness areas regularly for the past decade, I’ve seen firsthand how transformative a safari experience can be—but also how delicate the balance is between preservation and pressure. With millions of dollars in investment pouring into new safari lodges, it’s never been more important to ask: How do we get this right?
We caught up with Nick to unpack what he witnessed that day, how things have changed in the Serengeti-Mara ecosystem, and what travelers, tour operators, governments, and the media need to do now to protect the future of East Africa’s wildlife habitats.
This conversation has been edited for clarity and flow.
What was it about the scene you witnessed that made you so upset?
The wildebeest tend to use specific routes every year—paths they’ve followed for a long time. These crossing points are numbered now, and each one has different terrain and challenges. This happened at Crossing Point #4, which is a really tight spot—very bushy on one side of the river. There’s a bridge that used to allow people to cross upstream, but it’s been washed away. So now, everyone gathers on one side. Realistically, that area can handle maybe 10 vehicles.
But on this day, there were more than 100 vehicles in the area. The wildebeest had originally tried to cross at Point #5, but they couldn’t even get to the water—there were so many vehicles parked that the animals physically couldn’t find a way through. So they turned and moved toward Point #4 instead.
This is where it all unraveled. The moment the wildebeest started shifting, the vehicles did too, racing to beat each other to the crossing. It was total chaos. Drivers had parked in bushes they weren’t supposed to be in, and guests were out of their cars, running down to the riverbank, sitting in front of their vehicles, filming, taking selfies. The wildebeest started panicking. Some turned back. Some jumped off cliffs. A few managed to get to the river and triggered a crossing, but even then, more cars showed up and wedged themselves in, cutting off the rest of the herd. All the official vehicle markers and viewing limits were completely ignored.
Where were you at this point, and what did you decide to do then?
We were on the other side of the river, shouting at people to move, trying to get them to make space. I lost it. I apologized to my guests and then just started yelling at people to get back into their cars. I’ve never been that angry on safari in my life.
When we got back to camp, I posted the video without really thinking about the response it might get. And then my phone blew up—thousands of messages. Some supportive, some angry, some constructive, others not so much. A few companies reached out and took real responsibility, which I appreciated. Others just deflected blame or pointed fingers. But the important thing is that people are talking about it now, and hopefully that leads to change. This isn’t just about one day or one crossing. It’s a systemic problem. There are so many people making money off this ecosystem—yet the animals are treated like props for entertainment.
What does this incident say about the state of tourism in the Serengeti’s high season?
It’s become overcrowded. It’s like Ngorongoro Crater, which I won’t even enter anymore—it’s just unbearable in there. Too many people, bad behavior, shouting, hooting, everyone trying to get on top of the animals for the best photo. It’s not the wilderness experience it should be.
Even in places like the southern Serengeti during the calving season in February, the behavior has been troubling. The wildebeest usually arrive in the southern Serengeti around December or January, and they begin giving birth from January through March. Around 350,000 calves are born in a few weeks during that time. It’s one of the most incredible natural spectacles you can witness—seeing the mega herds spread across the plains. What you see at the river crossings doesn’t even compare. But the whole system is under pressure from overtourism.
What will it take to resolve this?
A few of us in the safari industry were talking in a recent call about potential solutions, and it’s going to take a collective effort. We all play a role—guides, companies, tourists—because we all benefit from this ecosystem. One of the key things is spreading out the pressure. The migration isn’t a two-month event; it’s year-round. The animals are always moving. So we need to encourage travelers to visit outside of the “peak” moments and explore different areas. Staying away entirely isn’t the answer either. I also want people to come—safaris are how I make my living. It’s a tough balance.
I saw you repost a reel from a fellow guide, Michael Laubscher, who was in the Masai Mara in Kenya around the same time. Do you think what’s happening is specific to Tanzania?
Traditionally, this kind of problem used to be more associated with the Masai Mara. It’s a smaller area, and in the past, there were huge issues with vehicle overcrowding there. But this year, the migration has shifted. More crossings are happening in the Mara again, and Michael posted some of that.
But ironically, things seem calmer in the Mara this season. That’s probably because in 2024, Kenya doubled its park fees—from $100 to $200 per person per day—which has led a lot of tourists and operators to shift to the Serengeti instead. And that’s put a ton of extra pressure on the Tanzanian side.
So there’s an economic and policy domino effect happening?
Exactly. At the same time, Tanzania has approved a bunch of new lodge developments in recent years. More permits, more lodges, more vehicles, and still no regulation on the number of vehicles allowed at a crossing. We counted 156 vehicles at one crossing. That’s not just unsustainable—it’s dangerous. The land itself can’t take that kind of strain. Cars are parking along fragile riverbanks. If one of those collapses while people are out of their vehicles—or if the wildebeest panic and stampede—people are going to die. I don’t think it’s a matter of if. I think it’s when. And only then, I fear, will the world care.
People want to see these things, and that’s good—there’s money coming in. But governments need to step up. There needs to be real governance around what’s allowed and how it’s enforced. Otherwise, the whole system is going to collapse. And that collapse won’t just hurt wildlife. If the experience becomes that degraded, tourists will stop coming—and then what?
It really does feel like a tipping point. Millions are being invested into new lodges in sensitive ecosystems like the Mara and the Serengeti. And without regulation, I worry we’re pushing something fragile past its limits.
Yeah. And it’s not just about building a hotel. It’s everything that comes with it: Where does the water come from? Where do the resources come from? And, most importantly, where are they building? Too often, these new lodges go up in prime locations. But “prime” for people often means critical for wildlife too: breeding grounds, migration corridors, and denning sites.
We counted 156 vehicles at one crossing. That’s not just unsustainable—it’s dangerous.
And it raises the bigger question: If these companies have the money to build luxury lodges in protected areas, why can’t they invest in expanding or buffering those protected areas, too? Why not add land to conservation areas, like Tswalu is doing in South Africa, instead of just adding beds? And beyond that, how are local communities benefiting? Because right now, they’re often not. Many people living just outside these reserves don’t have basic infrastructure. No electricity. No water. No proper schools. And then a multimillion-dollar hotel opens a few kilometers away.
Everyone wants to see the same things in a handful of areas, like the big river crossings or the Big Five. But there are so many incredible parks and reserves across Africa that sit almost empty.
Definitely. There are still so many places in Africa that offer quiet, remote, and less developed wildlife experiences. But it’s a catch-22. Some of those places should stay quiet—for the sake of the animals and for people who are looking for solitude and something rawer. And the reality is, not all parks will attract huge crowds anyway. If a place doesn’t have the Big Five or a massive migration spectacle, it’s often overlooked. People want drama. They want adrenaline.
As a guide, I’m always trying to find those quieter places that haven’t exploded yet. But that’s the tension: As soon as you start putting a place on the map, it starts to change. It puts immense pressure on a very small patch of land and on the guides who work there. They’re under constant stress to deliver sightings. And the guests—honestly, some of them have become really difficult. Aggressive. Entitled. There’s so much pressure to get “the shot” that people forget why they came in the first place.
What advice would you give a first-time traveler to the Serengeti who wants to visit the area responsibly?
I think it starts before the trip. A lot of people google “East Africa safari,” and they’re met with a thousand options. It’s overwhelming. But if you care about wildlife, it’s worth putting some thought into how you travel—not just where you go. Here are a few pieces of advice:
1. Don’t just book the cheapest option. That’s usually where the problems start. The cheapest operators often cut corners. They may not hire trained guides, just drivers who have no background in conservation. And that matters, because a good guide can help set the tone for how you engage with wildlife.
2. One thing people overlook is timing. Everyone wants to come during peak migration season, which drives up prices and pressure. But East Africa is a year-round destination. You’ll pay less and see different behaviors if you go in the shoulder seasons. And you might even have a better experience, with fewer vehicles around.
3. Take the time to research operators. Get on the phone with them. Ask questions. Read reviews. Look at how they present themselves: Are they promoting conservation, or are they showing cheetahs jumping on vehicles for Instagram likes? That’s a red flag.
4. During the trip, try to be aware of your impact. Be patient. Listen to your guide. Don’t pressure them to “find the Big Five” on a tight schedule—it’s not a zoo. And don’t be that person shouting or standing up in the vehicle to get a better photo. The best moments come when you sit back and let the wild unfold.
5. After the trip, think about how you share what you saw. Are you inspiring people to connect with nature, or are you showing off? That may sound small, but how we represent safari matters. It influences how other people dream about these places and how they treat them when they get there.
Travelers have power. If you’re on safari and you see something wrong, take a photo. Post it. Say something. Social media has contributed to some of these problems, but it can also be part of the solution. If a company starts losing bookings because of how it behaves around wildlife, it will change. It will either hire better guides or lay down stricter rules. It needs to be animals first, nature first—photography and social media second.
Angama Amboseli in Kenya
Photos by Tanveer Badal
African safari lodges and camps that leave a positive impact on their destinations
Afar’s Hotels We Love series highlights 20 camps and lodges that aim to leave a positive impact on the people and places where they operate. They include Singita Grumeti, whose five retreats—including the contemporary-feeling Sabora Tented Camp and the new, exclusive-use Milele villa—sit on 350,000 acres of protected wilderness in Tanzania. The reserve, managed in partnership with the Grumeti Fund, supports anti-poaching efforts, education, and community development programs. In Kenya’s Masai Mara, Angama Mara pairs epic views from its location on an escarpment with a strong conservation ethos and deep community ties. Its sister property, Angama Amboseli, is situated beneath Mount Kilimanjaro and offers intimate access to big-tusked elephants in a private conservancy.
In South Africa, Tswalu Kalahari, which Kleer also recommends, stands out for its long-term ecological vision to continue expanding its protected area by rewilding former farmlands and restoring habitat for cheetahs, pangolins, black rhinos, and more.
Because African safaris are more complex, Afar recommends working with responsible operators like Micato Safaris, Extraordinary Journeys, and Roar Africa, each of which helps guests travel more consciously, avoid peak-season pressure, and choose camps that support both conservation and community.
