No one knows exactly how many pangolins roam South Africa’s wilds. And that’s part of the problem. As the world’s most trafficked mammal, the pangolin is both a conservation priority and an enigma. At Tswalu Kalahari Reserve in South Africa’s Northern Cape, Benjamin Melamdowitz, a Wits master’s student, has spent the last year working to change that, one elusive animal at a time.
Armed with a telemetry set, headlamp, and a deep curiosity, Melamdowitz has managed to tag six Temminck’s pangolins, Southern Africa’s only pangolin species, as part of his research into how these animals can be better rehabilitated and reintroduced into the wild after being rescued from traffickers.
But why pangolins?
“I’m not hugely species-specific,” he says, “but pangolins just fascinated me. There’s so little information about them; it felt like learning about something mythical. The more I read, the more I wanted to know.”
The numbers game
That curiosity quickly met a sobering reality: no one really knows how many pangolins are left. “Trying to estimate population size or density is incredibly difficult,” Melamdowitz explains. “Their ranges overlap, and they’re nocturnal and secretive.” One oft-cited number suggests that as many as 200,000 pangolins are poached every year across Africa. “If that number’s anywhere close to accurate,” he says, “then it’s almost certainly not sustainable.”
At Tswalu, pangolins elusive. In two years, Melamdowitz has encountered only about 10 individuals. Even tagging six animals for his study, he says, was “doing quite well”. “It just shows how elusive they are—and how challenging research on them can be.”
Scales and survival
Melamdowitz’s research focuses on habitat use: what pangolins eat, where they forage, and what kinds of vegetation attracts the insects they eat. “I’m trying to link feeding behaviour to vegetation quality,” he explains. “Are pangolins found in healthier landscapes or are they able to occur across a wide variety of habitat types? Do certain trees or grasses provide better access to food?”
“They don’t seem too picky,” he says. “That’s good news from a conservation standpoint, it suggests they might adapt to different habitats.” However, when it comes to prey, pangolins are specialists. “They’re targeting very specific ants and termites—primarily Anoplolepis and Crematogaster ants, and Trinervitermes termites. So while the plants aren’t necessarily the limiting factor, the availability of these prey items might be.”
In the cooler months, Melamdowitz noticed something curious. “Even when new green grass is abundant, they often forage in old, dry grass tufts. My guess is that the ant colonies have established there over time, perhaps using root systems or shelter.” On trees, the pangolins seem to favour grey camel thorn (Vachellia haematoxylon), but again, it’s unclear whether that’s preference or simple abundance.
Late nights, elusive creatures
Tracking a pangolin is a feat of patience. Melamdowitz relies heavily on local guides and trackers who alert him to signs of pangolin movement, usually faint tracks crossing sandy roads. “If they find fresh signs, we’ll try to track the animal to its burrow and wait, often for hours, for it to emerge.”
Most activity happens at night, especially in the summer months. “My day starts when everyone else is winding down,” he says. “I’ll locate the animal using its VHF transmitter, then sit quietly near the burrow, waiting.” Once the pangolin emerges, he follows it at a distance for up to three hours, recording every interaction with plants and potential prey.
When he’s not tracking pangolins, Melamdowitz is busy with insect transects, collecting ants and termites in pitfall traps to gauge prey abundance, or doing vegetation surveys across the reserve.
“It’s long hours and a lot of solitude,” he admits. “But I’ve also had the privilege of spending a year on this incredible landscape, studying an animal few people ever get to see in the wild.”
Beyond the burrow
While pangolins have become something of a conservation celebrity, scientific research remains limited. “A lot of my work is focused on rehabilitation,” Melamdowitz notes, referring to efforts to care for animals confiscated from the illegal wildlife trade. “Beyond that, there’s a bit on ecosystem services and general ecology, but overall, pangolins are still understudied.”
That’s not surprising. Pangolin research is notoriously tricky. “You can plan a project and never actually find an animal,” he says. “They’re that elusive. A lot can go wrong.”
Despite the challenges, Melamdowitz remains committed to the cause, though perhaps not through the traditional academic route. He doesn’t plan to pursue a PhD, at least not yet. “I’m more interested in applied conservation, in building resilient systems that work for wildlife and people,” he says. “That might involve economic and social dimensions, not just ecological ones.”
Still, pangolins will remain close to his heart. “There’s something mystical about them,” he says
Yves Vanderhaeghen writes for Jive Media Africa, science communication partner of Oppenheimer Generations Research and Conservation.
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