Biology Reference
In-Depth Information
During my time in Kinshasa, I conducted interviews with Albert Lotana Lokasola and BCI's
other partners. With Albert, I spoke briefly about his decision to run for parliament, and he admitted
that it was controversial, that people feared it would distance him from Kokolopori and its com-
munities. “But these last years,” he added, “have been truly difficult. I realized that I must have
influence on a higher level than just the reserve, that I can help conservation better if I am more
involved in the government and have more resources.”
He described how hard he'd worked to build the reserve, how in the beginning the big conser-
vation NGOs wouldn't take him seriously. Only BCI did, and he partnered with them to achieve
his goals. His work as a conservationist gave him a degree of power that threatened some leaders
in Équateur, who, as he described them, used any change as a means to polarize the people in their
favor. He wanted to free himself up to do larger projects, he told me, and not have to negotiate con-
stantly with self-interested local politicians.
Hearing him speak, I recalled another statement by conservationist Karl Ammann, that the fu-
ture of grassroots conservation is doubtful “until we can create political pressure from the top
down.” This had been perhaps the most challenging goal for BCI. BCI built their projects from the
ground up so that they would be, as BCI advisor John Scherlis explained to me, “in touch with
and rooted in local reality, organically growing in a way that is adapted to the local environment,
and, only then, potentially stable and sustainable over the long term.” Furthermore, having local
leadership within the reserve communities ensured that the reserves would continue running in the
event of a war or a change of government. But BCI had put significant effort into their relationships
with the president, the ministers, and ambassadors, as well as the church leaders of the DRC. The
ascent of Albert, and of people similarly educated in conservation, also had the potential to create
top-down change. In Albert's case, that potential was reinforced and magnified by his success as a
grassroots community leader.
In our conversation, Albert confirmed that conservation has to be integrated with the culture and
needs of the people where it is being done, and that the Congolese know their forests but need train-
ing, leadership, and funding. The picture he painted was one of both collective effort and individual
leadership. As he described the vision he shared with BCI—of saving bonobos by giving the people
a livelihood through sustainable agriculture and livestock, education in conservation, and develop-
ment of markets for local goods—I sensed that he was a man who rarely paused, who liked to set
goals for himself.
Over the course of my conversation with him, and with other local leaders, I learned the protean
nature of many Congolese conservationists. They had been soldiers, teachers, merchants, scientists,
administrators, and politicians while remaining conservationists. The chaos of the country, the way
relationship building depended not only on charisma but on a deep respect for the defiant character
of the people and their pride in their forests and customs, meant that to work here successfully, con-
servationists had to let go of preconceptions, of what had worked elsewhere—of Western hierarchy
and Western definitions of efficiency—and learn this country's history and traditions, acculturating
themselves to the Congo.
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