Row upon row of shrivelled aloes stand scorched on the rocky terrain. Hardened by drought, the landscape can barely conceal its plight.
Across communities, people speak of trees that have gone, rains that are lost, and a land that used to be green but now lies barren and bare. In Somaliland's western Awdal region, Abdi Jama, Abdi Ciye and Bashir reel off all the trees that have disappeared. It's a roll call of the missing and dead.
Reflecting on the landscape he has watched change, elder Abdi Ciye Dharaar is grave.
"There is always drought in this area and a shortage of water. There are no trees for the animals to hide. The area has become so flat. There is no prey, nowhere for the animals to go. They emigrated."
The animals left to find more trees in Ethiopia and Kenya and more hiding places, he says. "We have totally lost lions, leopards and elephants. We still have a small number of cheetahs."
Amid the fading glow of twilight, a figure emerges half-shrouded by smoke. Emanating from a kiln producing charcoal, it's a trade from which thousands in rural Somaliland derive their only, meagre income.
This is a common sight across desolate landscapes. The blackened stumps of burned acacia trees and abandoned kiln pits bear witness to widespread, illegal deforestation. The charcoal is packed into sacks and loaded onto trucks or jammed into car boots. It is destined to be sold to rapidly growing urban populations for just a few dollars a sack.
With ten children at home to feed and scant other ways to earn money, this man says he has little choice.
In the eyes of communities and conservationists, deforestation has left the land vulnerable to drought and desertification. They believe it has also been a contributing factor in species decline.
In part an attempt to mitigate the damage caused by unsustainable charcoal production, successive Somaliland governments have marked 15 April as National Tree Planting Day, launching wide-scale campaigns to promote reforestation and rehabilitate land.
In Nasiye, a re-greening project to regenerate degraded and formerly mined land has offered hope and resilience.
In the dry heat of the afternoon, men sit under the dappled shade of a tree playing shax – a Somali version of chess with date stones for pieces – on the burnt orange earth.
At the edge of the village, a new colour palette has appeared, transforming the vista into a sea of creams, yellows and greens.
Native grasses not seen in the area for 20 years are springing up determinedly out of the ground, their feathered blades criss-crossing in the wind. Newly planted and reseeding themselves, they are appearing thick and fast, blanketing the once-sparse land.
Community fencing encloses the area and protects the grasses from overgrazing livestock. These grasses could in future provide a vital reserve for herds in times of drought.
This project was run in partnership with the community, HALO and local NGO Candlelight. It has allowed soil to recover from erosion following mine clearance and overgrazing, and enabled villagers to plant drought-resistant trees and grasses in rejuvenated earth. It is a promising example of effective rangeland rehabilitation and the protection of indigenous biodiversity. The site now draws university students on field trips from Hargeisa and Burco.
As the Horn of Africa suffers ecological crisis and species lie on the brink of extinction, landmine clearance and environmental restoration go hand in hand. Together with partners, HALO is restoring ecosystems and habitats, working with communities to find sustainable solutions that support people, wildlife and the land to thrive.
For more on the developing Lost Lions project, follow _beatriceblythe on Instagram.
