Biology Reference
In-Depth Information
To implement a lasting conservation agreement, Albert had to work carefully with the people
of Kokolopori. He had more than the necessary familiarity with the local culture, understanding the
subtle connections in the community and its relationship to the forest. But he didn't want to hand
Kokolopori over to an outside organization or the national government. The people living in the
reserve would never forgive this, and it was very unlikely that the reserve could succeed without
their goodwill and support. He was one of them, and he wanted Vie Sauvage to grow from them.
Similiarly, BCI made clear that it didn't want to control the resources of Kokolopori or dispute the
leadership of Vie Sauvage, but rather to strengthen its capacities. At one point, when BCI and Al-
bert first began working together, he offered to serve as BCI's regional manager. But Sally told him
that she felt it wouldn't serve him well in the long run, and that BCI's goal was to build the capa-
city of Vie Sauvage, empowering the community. Later that year, in 2002, Albert and Vie Sauvage
signed a memorandum of understanding with BCI, stating their common goals. As BCI's partner,
Albert would manage the region and be paid a monthly salary.
With BCI's support, Albert began laying the groundwork for a reserve in Kokolopori. In French,
the process is called
sensibilisation
, meaning to help people become aware of a subject, to educate
them. Before he could begin to think about community consensus, he had to explain why bonobos
and the forests were important to other countries. Once villagers and local leaders were in agree-
ment with his goals, he could set up preliminary accords, first to zone the forests in partnership with
the villagers and their leaders, then to do a complete wildlife inventory to international standards
and train a staff of trackers and eco-guards. He explained to them how the community development
projects would be integral to the work, and how the local people would earn livelihoods managing
the reserve.
Travel in the Congo is slow. Each time you stop in a village, you are expected to pay respect
to the local leaders, to explain what you are doing. In this way, Albert repeatedly met with each
village, where he had family, where people knew and trusted him. He told them about the growing
international interest in bonobos, that Westerners wanted to protect them.
The natural place to begin explaining this was a fact I often heard the Congolese repeat with
wonder, as if I might not have known: “There are no bonobos anywhere else in the world. They live
only in the Congo.”
Villagers often described the moment that they learned this, explaining that they had no idea
bonobos and the Congo were so special. This knowledge, combined with reverence for their
forest—their belief that it is one of the oldest places in existence, unchanged, as they liked to say,
since God created the earth—inspired them.
Day after day, Albert traveled from village to village. He spoke solemnly to the people and their
seated leaders in the shadow of the
paillote
, dozens of village men squatting around the elders who
occupied the few chairs.
The talk turned from the wonder of bonobos and their forests—all they contained that might
be of interest to Western scientists and even tourists—to more concrete economic matters: how the
people of Kokolopori could get funding to protect their bonobos and other natural resources. Albert
painted a vision of the future. There would be money for people working for the reserve, a clinic,
and more schools, all funded by conservation.
The question the village elders asked in return was simple: “And what about our forests? We
need them for hunting, for gathering food and planting fields. If we support your bonobo project,
will we lose control of them?”
