Mr. Baka and his relatives, along with their cattle, sheep and handful of pack donkeys, set up camp deep in the dew-covered bush here earlier this month. The women used sticks to build tarp-covered domes for shelter, before marching fresh yogurt to town to sell. Hired hands took the cattle to graze after boys and girls pulled suckling calves and sheep from their mothers.

Mr. Baka hopped up and took a plastic kettle to pour water over a plump cow’s back, washing it with his hand, tenderly rubbing the giant-horned animal. He looked inside its mouth, telling stories about its mother and grandmother. Each cow has its own family name, and can fetch as much as $600 at market. But Mr. Baka doesn’t like to think about their value; he would never consider them just meat.

“Even in the pitch dark, I can recognize their call,” he said. “They’re like my own children.”

Mr. Baka led his clan to the same spot in Gombe State just last year, letting the cattle graze freely for three months. But this time, the day after Mr. Baka showed up, the owner of the land said he wanted to cultivate the area for farming. Mr. Baka was being evicted.

About two years ago, local leaders created a mediation process to deal with these kinds of disputes after worries that the official legal system was corrupt and biased against herdsmen. Now, the first stop for a complaint is the village chief.