Beatrice Mitei: The woman wrestling Lake Baringo’s crocodiles
Sergeant, Beatrice Jemutai, a veterinary and intervention officer at the Kenya Wildlife Service leading a team of 29 officers in capturing and relocating crocodiles in Lake Baringo, during an interview at Kambi Samaki in Baringo County on September 3, 2026. The crocodile population has outgrown the lake and they are attacking locals.
Photo credit: Jared Nyataya | Nation Media Group
By Florah Koech
Correspondent
Nation Media Group
What you need to know:
- KWS Sergeant Beatrice Mitei leads a 29-member team capturing and relocating more than 50 crocodiles from Lake Baringo as rising waters intensify human-wildlife conflict.
- After 19 years with KWS, Beatrice Mitei has built a career capturing crocodiles, hippos and lions while challenging perceptions about women in wildlife operations.
She has pulled a sedated lion into a crate barely big enough for her body, worked shifts at a raw sewage plant to trap hippos, and now spends her days wrestling with some of Lake Baringo's most formidable crocodiles. Sergeant Beatrice Mitei, 43, is proof that wildlife capture, long seen as a man's job, has room for women who refuse to be told otherwise.
On this particular morning, that work is playing out on the shores of Lake Baringo, where a crocodile has just emerged silently from the murky waters, its dark, scaly body gliding towards the bait as if it knows exactly what awaits it.
A few metres away, Kenya Wildlife Service (KWS) officers stand motionless, their eyes fixed on the reptile. The slightest mistake could turn the carefully planned operation into a fight for survival.
At the edge of the swollen lake, Beatrice stands in gumboots and overalls, calmly directing the operation. Around her, officers wrestle with a heavy capture net stretched across the water, while a truck fitted with a winch waits on the shore, ready to provide the muscle needed to drag the animal out once it is secured.
Then the crocodile moves towards the bait, and Beatrice spots it first. "Ndiyo hiyo! (There it is!)," she shouts.
The officers spring into action. Several grab the net and begin hauling it towards the bank as others coordinate with the driver of the waiting truck. The winch roars, pulling against the resistance of the heavy animal and the weight of the water.
For a few heart-stopping seconds, it appears the team has succeeded, but the predator is not ready to surrender. It thrashes violently against the net, using its powerful body to force an opening, then propels itself over the trap in a sudden burst of movement and slips back into the lake.
The officers can only watch as the water closes over it. The attempt has failed. There is no panic. The officers retrieve and reposition the equipment, secure the bait again and return to their positions. The wait resumes.
Two of the women capturing and relocating crocodiles in Lake Baringo rest at Kambi Samaki in Baringo County on September 4, 2026.
Photo credit: Jared Nyataya | Nation Media Group
For Beatrice, such moments are part of a career in one of KWS's most demanding sections, and one in which she has helped challenge the notion that wildlife capture is a man's job. She is leading a 29-member KWS Veterinary and Capture Unit team tasked with capturing and relocating more than 50 crocodiles from Lake Baringo, where rising water levels have pushed people and wildlife into increasingly close contact.
Residents around the lake say crocodiles have ventured closer to communities, attacking people and livestock at the water's edge. The rising lake has compounded the problem, forcing people and wildlife into a confined space and intensifying human-wildlife conflict. Those captured are transported to protected areas and parks with suitable habitats and little or no crocodile presence, reducing the immediate danger to communities while maintaining the species' ecological role.
A crocodile in Lake Baringo, Baringo County on September 3, 2026.
Photo credit: Jared Nyataya | Nation Media Group
But catching one of the lake's largest predators is no simple task.
At Kampi ya Samaki, where the operation is based, the team begins its day before sunrise. They wake at 5am, take breakfast and assemble for the morning parade at 6am, when Mitei outlines the day's plan. Discipline, teamwork and safety are the guiding principles.
"Every other day is a different day," she tells Nation. "Each day, we are dealing with animals that are dangerous and wild, and the way we handle each animal is different from the other. Catching crocodiles is different from antelopes and the others. It's quite difficult to catch animals in water, but we want to help the community mitigate human-wildlife conflict and reduce injuries and deaths."
The waters around them are not only inhabited by crocodiles. Hippos also lurk beneath the surface, making every movement potentially dangerous. The team uses trap nets, bait and winches to contain the reptiles, and every member has a specific role, with communication that must be precise.
Sergeant Beatrice Jemutai and her colleague pulls a net used to capture crocodiles in Lake Baringo at Kambi Samaki, Baringo County, on September 3, 2026.
Photo credit: Jared Nyataya | Nation Media Group
"Before the exercise commences, you tell yourself that if you fail to plan, you are planning to fail," Beatrice says.
Sometimes the crocodiles take the bait. Other times, they outsmart the team. At the time of the interview, the operation had been running for nine days and had yielded captures each day, helped by information from residents on where the reptiles had been sighted.
But the work does not continue indefinitely. When afternoon heat intensifies and strong winds push waves across the lake, the team takes a break until around 4pm. They do not attempt captures at night, because of the increased danger.
Once a crocodile is secured, the team must act quickly but carefully. The animal is hauled from the water while several officers work together to control its powerful body. Its legs are restrained, its tail is held firmly, and its jaws are securely tied to prevent sudden movement. It is then blindfolded to keep it calm before being transferred into a crate. Because crocodiles are aquatic animals, the crates are submerged in water to keep them hydrated while awaiting transport.
"It needs a lot of manual work and patience. Capturing an animal in water, you need to think like them. It's like a cat-and-mouse game, and if you don't have patience in this work, you can't succeed," Beatrice explains.
The crocodiles have also become harder to entice as the operation continues. "They will see the bait, come and taste it and feel like something is holding it, and they will escape. We have captured many, and they are becoming witty each day," she says.
The team has even experimented with other ways of attracting the reptiles, including playing recorded sounds from the shoreline in an attempt to draw them closer.
Breaking the mould
Beatrice joined KWS 19 years ago. She spent seven years in tourism, three years in problem animal control, and later moved into capture and veterinary services. She joined the capture unit in 2017, becoming only the third woman to enter a section where physical strength, technical skill and courage are tested almost every day.
Tourists enjoy a boat ride (in the background), as another boat ventures into Lake Baringo in Baringo County on September 3, 2026.
Photo credit: Jared Nyataya | Nation Media Group
In the nine years since, she has taken part in hundreds of wildlife captures and interventions involving some of the most dangerous animals encountered by KWS, from crocodiles and hippos to lions and other wildlife. The number of women in the capture team has since grown to seven.
She has risen through the ranks from ranger to corporal and now sergeant, and is responsible for leading the Lake Baringo team while also assisting veterinarians in treating injured or sick wildlife and animals caught in snares.
For her, the operation is also a demonstration of how far women can go when allowed to work in spaces traditionally dominated by men. "I am happy to be leading the team to help communities, and also happy that I am at the forefront to show that what men can do, women can do as well," she says.
Beatrice grew up in Mumol, Baringo Central, with an early fascination for the military and technical work. When she joined KWS, she found an unexpected home in conservation.
"I am passionate about conservation and particularly the capture of animals. But being a male-dominated field, at first they didn't believe that a woman could thrive in it because it involves manual work, yet women are perceived as the weaker gender. But that is a big no for me, because I am always there, ready to work and do whatever men are doing. If it means going into the water or handling any animal, we do it together," she shares.
Her progression has come with challenges from male colleagues. "The men have challenged me, and I am happy because I have always assured them that I can do it," she says.
But she is quick to stress that capture is not about men versus women. "We don't separate men and women. We take them as a whole. In capture, we all do the work. If it's going into water, you have to go. If it's pulling a rope, you are together. That is why you see all of them in overalls, because they are equal," she says.
From lions to hippos
The crocodiles of Lake Baringo are not the most difficult animals she has encountered. In 2023, Beatrice was part of a team capturing hippos at the Naivasha sewerage plant. "It was quite an experience that I never thought of doing," she recalls.
The team spent long hours at the raw sewage facility, enduring the smell while trying to condition and trap the animals. "It was hectic. You inhale all the air until you are used to it, taking lunch and even supper there because we had to take care of the animals," she narrates.
She also remembers an early assignment in which she was ordered to help pull a sedated lion into a crate. The crate was small, and because she was the smallest member of the team, she was asked to get inside and pull the animal in. "I was thinking, what if it wakes up? But I was swift and came out of the crate," she says, laughing.
Now, leading the Lake Baringo operation in her home county is more than another assignment. It is personal. "You cannot do it alone. This operation entails a lot of teamwork and discipline, because you have to get it right. I am happy to be part of this exercise in Baringo, my homeland, as a way of also giving back to the community," she says.
For Beatrice, the mission is ultimately about more than capturing crocodiles. It is about protecting communities while showing the next generation of women that there is no boundary to the work they can do.
"I am happy that I am leading a team in doing something that the generation to come will remember. I will have set an example to the people here, especially the women," she says.
"Let's do something in conservation so that we can leave a legacy. Because when you go online after decades, you will find Lake Baringo crocodiles capture exercise, and will always see me. Even in old age, I will be happy," she states.
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