ZANZIBAR WILDLIFE JOURNAL
Jozani Forest Zanzibar: Among the Red Colobus Monkeys
A Morning in Zanzibar’s Ancient Forest
Two Generations. One Journey.
Where the Forest Begins
The road south from Stone Town narrows before you notice it happening. The thatched rooflines and spice-scented air of the old town slowly give way to something quieter — coral rag forest pressing in close on either side, the light turning green and filtered.
The air feels warm and damp on your skin, carrying the scent of leaves, earth and morning heat. This is the way to Jozani, the only stretch of indigenous forest left standing on Zanzibar’s main island, and the last true wilderness most visitors to this archipelago will ever see.
We came for the red colobus.
We left with something far harder to put a price on.
“We came for the red colobus. We left with something quieter and harder to name.”
-FemmVoyage
The Forest That Almost Wasn’t
Jozani–Chwaka Bay is small as national parks go — barely 50 square kilometres — but within it lives one of the most concentrated bursts of biodiversity in East Africa: coral rag forest, swamp woodland, and a sprawling mangrove system, all folded into a single protected landscape.
It is also, almost unbelievably, the only place on Earth where the Zanzibar red colobus monkey still survives.
This is not a species with room to spare. For decades, the forest around them has been shrinking — pressed by farming, firewood collection and the slow expansion of villages and roads. And yet, somehow, these monkeys remained.
There is something deeply moving about that.
An animal once misunderstood by many local farmers is now one of the main reasons this forest is protected at all. The red colobus has become more than a rare species; it has become the living symbol of Jozani itself.
Our guide — a park ranger in pressed khaki and tall rubber boots, calm in the way of people who have walked the same path a thousand times — met us at the entrance and didn’t so much lead us in as invite us along.
For a few unforgettable minutes, we shared the silence of Jozani Forest with one of the world’s rarest primates.
-FemmVoyage
Eye to Eye
You don’t really find the red colobus.
They find you.
We hadn’t walked more than a few minutes beneath the canopy before the first rustle gave them away — a flash of chestnut-red fur against the emerald green leaves, then a face: jet black, framed by wild white hair, with deep amber eyes quietly watching us from above.
Then she appeared.
A mother sat low on a broad tree branch, her infant tucked safely into the soft white fur of her chest. Neither seemed concerned by our presence. There was no panic, no sudden movement, only a quiet curiosity as they continued with their morning.
For several minutes, time almost seemed to stand still.
The forest was filled with birdsong, the gentle rustling of leaves overhead and the occasional crack of a branch somewhere deeper in the canopy. Warm, humid air carried the scent of damp earth and fresh vegetation, while shafts of sunlight filtered softly through the trees.
It felt less like watching wildlife…
…and more like being welcomed into their world.
What struck us most was the calm. Unlike many primates elsewhere in Africa, Zanzibar’s red colobus monkeys show remarkably little fear of people. They continued grooming, feeding and resting only a few metres away, completely unbothered by our presence, as if we had become just another quiet part of the forest.
Day hardly said a word.
She simply stood there smiling, completely captivated by the tiny baby peeking curiously from beneath its mother’s white fur.
Sometimes the most unforgettable wildlife encounters aren’t measured by how close you get.
They’re measured by how still you become.
Deeper Into the Green
Past the main troop, the forest changes register — denser, damper, the path narrowing to single file between ferns, fig roots and tangled green.
Our guide moved through it like he was reading a familiar book, pausing here to point out a Sykes’ monkey eyeing us warily from a higher branch, there to pluck a small green fruit from a low limb and hold it up for inspection before passing it to Day to smell.
These are the moments a guidebook can’t give you.
The forest, up close, is a working pharmacy and a quiet history lesson all at once — every leaf and bark strip seemingly carrying some half-remembered use, passed down rather than written down.
Into the Mangroves
The forest opens, unexpectedly, into water.
A wooden boardwalk threads out across the Chwaka Bay mangroves, raised just above a tidal floor of black mud and tangled prop roots — one of the strangest, most otherworldly landscapes either of us had ever walked through.
The air changes here. It becomes heavier with salt and humidity, while the forest grows almost silent. Beneath the boardwalk, tiny fiddler crabs scuttle sideways across the mud, disappearing between the maze of roots as the tide slowly breathes in and out.
A thatched lookout tower rises above the canopy at the boardwalk’s far end, built entirely from lashed timber, the kind of structure that looks as though it has always belonged here rather than being built by human hands.
From the top, the mangroves stretch away in endless shades of silver-green toward Chwaka Bay, utterly still except for the occasional bird call drifting through the trees. It is a landscape that asks nothing of you except to stop for a moment and simply look.
The Goodbye We Didn’t Expect
We thought the forest was the story.
It wasn’t, quite.
On our way out, near the park entrance, a small gathering from the local community had assembled — and before we knew quite how it happened, Day had been pulled in to dance.
No performance, no transaction, just an afternoon’s welcome extended to two visitors who had come to see monkeys and left, instead, with something closer to a memory of belonging.
It is, in the end, the kind of moment FemmVoyage exists to chase: not the five-star room or the infinity pool, but the unscripted minute that no itinerary can promise and no luxury resort can manufacture.
Some journeys are measured in kilometres.
Others are measured in moments.
-FemmVoyage
Planning Your Visit to Jozani Forest
Jozani Forest lies around 35–40 minutes south of Stone Town by car and is easily combined with Paje, Jambiani or Zanzibar’s east coast beaches.
Entrance fees include a mandatory guided walk with an official park ranger — one of the most valuable parts of the experience.
Go early in the morning, ideally before 9:00 AM, when the forest is cooler, quieter and the red colobus monkeys are often more active.
Comfortable shoes, water, insect repellent and a camera without flash. Move slowly and keep a respectful distance.
The Zanzibar red colobus exists nowhere else on Earth. Every visit helps support the protection of Jozani Forest and its wildlife.
