Biology Reference
In-Depth Information
After Laurent Kabila's assassination in 2001 and the transfer of power to his son, Joseph Kabila,
André knew that the war would begin winding down.
“His son is better, far better,” he told me. “We still have a long way to go, but he is much better.”
By 2004, the country was in the process of reunification. His vice-governorship had been a mil-
itary position, and with the war over, he resigned. He didn't see any reason not to. Joseph Kabila had
accepted a multiparty state and free elections, and André was ready to devote himself to ACOPRIK
and creating a reserve in Sankuru. Having seen so much waste of resources and human lives, he
wanted to do something meaningful. From his readings in history, he understood the importance
of decisive action, that it was necessary to stop the large-scale slaughter of wildlife and protect the
forest.
“My training is as a historian,” he said, “but conservation is my vocation.” Heeding this calling,
he focused on educating the people. As in the first war, his vision came together faster than he ex-
pected, as if he were again racing across the country, longing for change, though in this case as
well, after an initial success—the creation of the Sankuru Nature Reserve in 2007—he would find
himself mired in conflict.
Much as Albert had, he spoke to local leaders, explaining that their natural resources could
either be exhausted or maintained and treated as renewable resources.
“In everything I do,” he told me, “I think about what I can leave, how I can pass on the heritage
of my work.” He has hardly shifted his posture in over an hour. He sits perfectly straight, his hands
on his thighs. He hesitates now, his expression different, slightly pained, as if he is searching in the
story to find what he could have done to avoid the controversy that would cripple progress in the
Sankuru Nature Reserve.
When he visited the villagers, he told me, he spoke not of what the people could dig up and
sell—diamonds or gold—but of what they could maintain, of how tourism and conservation would
increase the value of the forest. He asked how much they earned from killing elephants. It was a
small sum compared to what they might earn as eco-guards. He asked the pressing questions. Was
hunting as easy as before, or were the animals disappearing? What would they do when there were
no animals left to sell? Exploitation had been the model for profit in the Congo for so long that it
was hard for people to believe that an educated Congolese like André didn't want to manipulate
them for his own interests, or that he cared about the well-being of their villages.
He bought a motorcycle because the roads of Sankuru were too bad for cars, and he drove
wherever there were bonobos. He taught people about great apes and recorded where they were said
to live. In many villages, he created small groups to support the protection of bonobos, to teach oth-
ers about their importance and the possibilities for a sustainable future.
Months at a time, he made his way through the forest, over a thousand miles on winding paths.
The Congo is a land of rivers and streams that swell with each downpour, and he often had to stop
