Kilimanjaro’s unsung heroes: Their struggles and triumphs

However, for the young Tanzanian mountain guides and porters, this gruelling climb is a daily routine, undertaken for a meagre income that barely sustains them.

Jofrey Mwapongo, like many others, began his career as a porter before graduating to a full-time mountain guide. They refer to themselves as wagumu (the hardened ones).

These young men shoulder tourists' burdens—literally—carrying backpacks, tents, food supplies, and medical kits, all while navigating the demanding ascent.

Official regulations by the Kilimanjaro National Park Authority (Kinapa) cap the weight each porter carries at 20 kilogrammes.

However, many are forced to exceed this limit, often with little or no extra compensation.

Mwapongo’s journey started after he graduated from the College of African Wildlife Management, commonly known as Mweka, in 2019.

“After high school, I couldn't just stay at home, so I studied to become a tour guide,” he recalled.

Before enrolling in Mweka, he worked as a porter, enduring backbreaking labour until he saved enough money, with the help of a sponsor, to pursue his studies.

His job remains relentless.

The most gruelling phase is the final summit push, a pre-dawn climb in freezing temperatures.

“We wake up very early to get the tourists ready, sometimes without gloves, as we prepare tea for them and carry their extra baggage,” he explained.

The final stretch is the toughest—if a tourist fails to reach the summit, days of trekking seem futile.

The burden falls on guides and porters to ensure success.

In a recent harrowing experience in 2024, Mwapongo fell sick mid-ascent.

“I started vomiting, my body was weak. I had to rest for 10 minutes on the ground as the others moved on,” he recounted.

No one could stop to help him, as time was of the essence.

Despite his weakened state, he persevered, reaching Stella Point, a key landmark before the summit, before finally collapsing at the peak.

“I felt like I had the heart of a cat, with nine lives,” he joked.

Mwapongo knows Mount Kilimanjaro is unpredictable.

“You can't claim to have mastered this mountain. One day it’s easy, the next day it’s hell,” he said.

Yet, despite the dangers, the financial returns remain disappointingly low.

Guides working with established international tour companies earn between Sh70,000 to Sh100,000 per day.

 In contrast, those employed by small local firms make as little as Sh10,000 per day—barely enough to survive.

After seven days of intense labour, some return home with only Sh70,000.

In this high-risk job, many porters depend on tourist tips.

However, some guides misappropriate these earnings, further exploiting their hardworking counterparts.

Although the Kilimanjaro guides have a union, effectiveness in advocating for fair wages remains questionable.

Freelance guides like Mwapongo face even greater uncertainty.

“My four-year-old son rarely sees me. If I had a stable job with an established company, I would reduce the number of climbs,” he said.

Finding a secure job with reputable tour companies is another challenge.

“You need connections to get in,” Mwapongo explained, leaving many wildlife graduates with limited options.

Some end up as porters despite their academic qualifications, working alongside individuals who never had formal education.

The fortunate few who seize opportunities go on to start their own tour companies—an aspiration Mwapongo holds for the future.

“If the government intervenes, I want porters to be the first priority,” he stressed.

“As guides, we have our own issues, but porters suffer the most.”

Many turn to alcohol, seeking solace from the bleak conditions and uncertain future.

Despite the hardships, Mount Kilimanjaro remains a lifeline for many young people in Arusha and Moshi, sustaining employment in tourism, hospitality, and related sectors.

“If the mountain were to close for even a day, thousands would be jobless,” Mwapongo remarked.

As adventure seekers from around the world flock to Kilimanjaro, it is crucial to recognize the silent workforce behind their triumphs—the unsung heroes who make each ascent possible.

Their perseverance and dedication deserve more than just tips; they deserve fair pay and respect for their invaluable contributions to Tanzania’s tourism industry.