Meet the Women
Porters of Kilimanjaro

Grace Mwangi grew up in Moshi, at the foot of Kilimanjaro. As a child, she watched porters pass through her village on their way to the trailheads. She admired their strength but never imagined she would become one of them. "In my family, the expectation was that I would marry, have children, and stay home," she recalls. "Nobody thought a woman could do this work."

At 19, Grace convinced a tour operator to hire her as a kitchen porter — the lowest rung on the ladder. She carried cooking equipment, cleaned pots, and served meals at camp. The work was gruelling, the pay was poor, and some male colleagues refused to work alongside her. "They said I would slow them down. They said women don't belong on the mountain."

Grace didn't slow down. She trained in secret, hiking the lower slopes of Kilimanjaro on her days off, building endurance, learning the routes, studying the weather patterns. After two years, she applied for a porter position and was hired. She carried 20 kg loads up the Machame and Lemosha routes, often outpacing male colleagues half her age.

After four years as a porter, Grace enrolled in a guide certification programme supported by the Kilimanjaro Porters Assistance Project. She passed on her first attempt — one of only three women in her cohort to do so. Today, she leads groups of up to twelve climbers, navigating everything from sudden weather changes to altitude sickness emergencies with calm authority.

"When I lead a group to the summit and the sun rises over the glaciers, I see the look on people's faces," she says. "That moment belongs to all of us — the climbers, the porters, the guides. We all made it together."

Grace has now completed over forty summits. She mentors new women hires, advocates for fair pay, and serves on the advisory board for porter welfare at Bush Lion Tours. She is proof that when you give a woman the opportunity, she doesn't just rise — she lifts everyone around her.

Neema Ishengoma never planned to become a porter. She studied nursing at a community college in Arusha, hoping to work in a hospital. But when her husband left and she became the sole provider for three young children, the hospital job wasn't enough. She needed income that matched the urgency of her situation.

A neighbour who worked as a tour guide told her that porters were in demand. The pay was decent — roughly $10 to $15 per day plus tips — and the work was available year-round. Neema was sceptical. "I thought porter work was for men. I had never seen a woman carrying heavy loads up the mountain." But desperation, she says, is a powerful motivator.

Her first climb was brutal. The load felt impossibly heavy, the altitude hit her like a wall, and she questioned her decision at every step. But she made it to camp, and something shifted inside her. "I realised that I was stronger than I thought. I could do this. I could provide for my children."

Over the next five years, Neema completed twenty-eight climbs. She saved enough to enrol her eldest daughter in secondary school, pay for uniforms and supplies for all three children, and build a small savings fund. She also became one of the most knowledgeable ecological guides on the mountain, earning a reputation for identifying medicinal plants and explaining the ecology of Kilimanjaro's five climate zones to interested climbers.

"Climbers often ask me about the plants, the birds, the history of the mountain," Neema says with pride. "I know these things because I have walked this path more times than I can count. The mountain has taught me as much as any school."

Today, Neema is a senior porter who mentors other single mothers entering the profession. She has been featured in local media and speaks at community events about the economic empowerment of women through porter work. Her story is a reminder that Kilimanjaro doesn't just offer breathtaking views — it offers livelihoods, dignity, and hope.

Rehema Juma was born in a small village on the southern slopes of Kilimanjaro. She grew up in the shadow of the mountain, watching clouds wrap around its summit like a crown. By the time she was sixteen, she had hiked every trail within reach of her village. But the idea of becoming a professional guide seemed impossible — there were almost no women in the role.

After finishing secondary school, Rehema took a job as a kitchen assistant at a mountain camp. She cooked meals for climbers, washed dishes, and cleaned tents. It was unglamorous work, but it put her on the mountain every day. She watched guides at work, memorised their techniques, and studied first aid manuals in her spare time.

When the Kilimanjaro Porters Assistance Project announced a guide training programme specifically for women, Rehema was the youngest applicant. The selection process was rigorous — physical fitness tests, wilderness first aid certification, route knowledge assessments, and English language proficiency. She passed every stage.

At 22, Rehema became the youngest woman to receive a guide certification through the programme. At 24, she has led over fifteen successful summits and is training for her lead guide qualification. Her clients praise her energy, her encyclopaedic knowledge of flora and fauna, and her ability to keep groups motivated during the toughest stretches of the climb.

"I want every girl in my village to see me and know that the mountain is hers too," Rehema says. "Not just the men. Not just the tourists. All of us."

Rehema has become a role model for young women in Moshi and beyond. She visits schools to talk about careers in tourism, mentors aspiring female guides, and works with Bush Lion Tours to create internship opportunities for women interested in mountain guiding. Her story proves that the barriers on Kilimanjaro are not the mountain itself — they are the assumptions we carry about who belongs there.

Amina Hassan has been climbing Kilimanjaro for twelve years. In that time, she has carried thousands of kilograms of equipment, mentored dozens of new porters, and raised five children on the income she earns from the mountain. She is the longest-serving woman porter at Bush Lion Tours, and her colleagues call her "Mama Mlima" — Mother of the Mountain.

Amina started climbing in 2014, at the age of 28. Her husband had recently lost his job, and the family needed a second income. A cousin who worked as a porter told her about the opportunity. "I was nervous," Amina admits. "I had never done anything like this. But I had five children who needed to eat."

The early years were the hardest. Amina faced discrimination from male porters who questioned her strength, her right to be there, and her ability to keep up. Some tour operators refused to hire women, citing outdated beliefs about physical capability. Amina persevered, building her reputation climb by climb, summit by summit.

Over time, Amina became one of the most respected porters on the mountain. She earned a reputation for reliability, strength, and an almost maternal care for the well-being of climbers and fellow porters alike. When Bush Lion Tours launched its women's porter initiative, Amina was the first person they approached to lead the mentorship programme.

Today, Amina personally trains every woman who joins the porter team. She teaches them how to manage their loads, how to recognise altitude sickness symptoms, how to advocate for fair treatment, and how to navigate the complex social dynamics of life on the mountain. She also runs a savings group for women porters, helping them build financial security beyond their climbing income.

"Twelve years ago, I was the only woman on the team," Amina says. "Now there are sixty-seven of us. That is not just progress. That is a revolution."