How Hyderabad Tiger Conservation Society built the human-leopard coexistence model

Fatima, who was representing the HYTICOS team, had been selected as one of the toe top national finalists for presenting community-driven solutions in Telangana’s satellite town Pocharam, where 18 leopards have died in conflict-related incidents over the past decade. The award belonged to an entire community of forest guards, field trackers, researchers, and volunteers of HYTICOS. They have come a long way, from the scrub forests of Telangana, where leopards still move like quicksilver in the dark, to this moment of recognition. In a country where wildlife stories often end in conflict, HYTICOS had managed something almost radical: they persuaded people and predators to share the same space again.

The scientists who chose the wild

The recognition came at a national hackathon themed “Human–Wildlife Coexistence.” From 120 teams across India — spanning 420 conservationists, forest officials, and biologists — it was HYTICOS that the Ministry of Environment chose to honour. Their proposal was built in the red dust of Pocharam Wildlife Sanctuary.

For years, leopards there had been dying; some run over on highways that slice through the woods, others poisoned after killing livestock. HYTICOS showed that conflict was not inevitable, but a symptom of misunderstanding.

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HYTICOS was founded by brothers Imran and Asif Siddiqui, both scientists trained at the Indian Institute of Science, Bengaluru. They could have taken the predictable path of research grants and academic careers. Instead, they went to the wild.

With the motto, “If we protect tigers, forests, and rivers, they will protect us,” they began tracking big cats across Andhra Pradesh and Telangana, turning local data into policy ideas and field interventions. Over time, their small outfit became a quiet movement, drawing students, biologists, and young professionals who traded city life for the slow, difficult rhythm of conservation work.

Today, their team includes researchers like Neelanjan Basu, Immanuel Sampath, Revathi K., and Vamshi Talari, as well as a network of field assistants — Bhimrao, Shankarayya, Somayya, and others — whose knowledge of animal trails and village moods often surpasses that of satellites and sensors. Together, they form the human scaffolding that holds up HYTICOS’s work.

The young woman who listened to leopards

Fatima has become the face of the new conservation ethos; scientific, local, and empathetic. Her presentations in Dehradun drew from her work in Kagaznagar and Pocharam, where she led community-based conflict resolution projects.

Fariha noticed a simple but devastating pattern: many leopards were dying not deep inside forests but near roads. “They were just trying to cross,” she said in one of her field reports. Others were poisoned — sometimes deliberately, sometimes accidentally, when carcasses were laced with pesticides meant for wild boars. “The animals die because they are misunderstood,” she said, “and because no one is there to explain their presence.”

Her method stood out for its humility: she spoke to people. She explained why leopards are part of the ecosystem, why losing them would damage not just the forest but the village economy itself. Slowly, the resistance softened. Villagers began alerting her team instead of retaliating when they spotted a leopard.

Making villages part of the forest

“Coexistence isn’t a slogan, it’s a system,” Fariha told Federal Telangana. HYTICOS began creating community awareness circles in forest-fringe villages. They trained residents in how to react calmly to a sighting, how to identify tracks, and when to call for help.

These programmes turned fear into familiarity. The same people who once saw leopards as threats began to see them as neighbours. When a leopard killed cattle, HYTICOS ensured that compensation from the forest department reached the farmer without delay, replacing anger with trust.

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Imran Siddiqui describes their mission simply: “We’re teaching humans and wildlife to coexist again.” He adds that much of the conflict arises not from the animals but from misinformation: viral clips, social media panic, and sensational headlines. “We need to replace fear with understanding,” he says.

Guardians of the night forest

Asif Siddiqui, the other co-founder, believes the answer lies in planning, not punishment. He advocates for wildlife underpasses, speed breakers on forest roads, and strict controls on deforestation. “Leopards have a right to live too,” he says. “When you see one near your village, don’t chase it with stones. It’s not an intruder, it’s a part of your landscape.”

HYTICOS’s work doesn’t stop at advocacy. Their teams spend nights tracking animal movements, studying camera trap footage, and negotiating with local officials to build safer corridors. Their success lies not in fences but in bridges — between departments, between species, and between humans and their own fear.

A model for the country

In 10 years, HYTICOS has evolved from a volunteer outfit into a model of science-driven compassion. It has shown that conservation in India can be both data-based and deeply humane. Forests, as Asif says, are not just collections of trees; they are living systems that breathe for all of us.

The roar of a tiger or the stealthy prowl of a leopard, he says, should remind us not of danger, but of equilibrium. “When the forest is alive enough to host a predator,” he smiles, “that means the land is still whole.” From Hyderabad’s city edge to Dehradun’s great forest hall, that idea has now travelled full circle.