Tshiring Lhamu Lama

I grew up in remote Dolpo, one of the last safe homes for snow leopards. Opportunities for girls were rare, but I became the first woman from my community to earn a Master’s in Natural Resource Management. During my research in Shey Phoksundo National Park, Dolpo, I witnessed two snow leopard cubs being brutally tortured, revealing the harsh realities of conservation in extreme landscapes and showed me that protecting these cats requires courage, bold action, and empowered communities.

Determined to act, I founded Snow Leopard Journey, a community-based trekking initiative, and Snow Leopard Sisters, a nonprofit empowering women and youth in snow leopard conservation. I have trekked through Dolpo’s remote villages, listening to herders who had lost livestock to snow leopards and understanding their fears and frustrations. Together, we have trained over 15 young conservationists, reached more than 600 herders, and reduced livestock losses by 90%—helping people and snow leopards coexist. Seeing a herder smile after a year without loss reminds me why this work matters: conservation is not just about saving a species; it is about bringing hope, strength, and pride to the people who share their homes with these vulnerable cats.

When I first started conservation, I trekked alone from village to village. Many herders looked at me with anger or confusion. Some refused to answer my research questions, and some wouldn’t let me stay overnight, even in my own Dolpo community. They thought I was protecting the snow leopard that sometimes killed their yaks, goats, and sheep. Women were shy to join meetings, and young people didn’t know they could help. I often felt lonely, but I kept going.

I remember thinking that before, they saw me as an enemy. They were the guardians of their livestock, and I was the guardian of the snow leopard. Back then, it seemed like we were worlds apart.

Slowly, things began to change. Women started attending training and proudly sharing what they learned. Youth began asking how they could help, and now I get calls and messages almost every day from young people seeking opportunities in conservation. Most of my team had never seen a snow leopard before, and now they are thrilled when they spot one through spotting scopes, or camera traps. Herders who once avoided me now greet me with smiles and call me their “Snow Leopard Sister.” Many local people are now interested in films, spotter training, solar deterrent lights, and predator-proof corrals.

Last year, I documented 11 snow leopard deaths in Dolpo. But, this year, I haven’t heard of a single one. Watching my community grow in confidence, knowledge, and hope has been the most meaningful part of my work. It reminds me that conservation is not only about saving snow leopards—it is about helping people protect their own future, because saving snow leopards and supporting people go hand in hand.