The second and final part of this Cameroonian voyage has taken us to another reserve – Deng Deng National Park (see posts below for a catch-up).
But first we travelled from Yaoundé (the capital) to Lomié, a small town to the east of the Dja Biosphere Reserve (DBR). On our last trip a couple of weeks ago we visited indigenous Baka and farming Bantu forest communities to the south of DBR, but thought we could also try our luck to the east.
Choosing to work in the rainforest comes with some inevitable annoyances – it rains everyday once or twice and often really heavy, meaning that getting to some communities is pretty tough (even in the ZSL 4×4); there’s mosquitoes eating you all day as well as lots of other little plasma-sucking, blood-curdling, wasps-as-big-as-your-thumb flying things; there’s almost always only one meal on offer at the local eatery, so you either eat it or fall back on your secret supply of delicious but horribly sweet Boost bars from Sainbury’s.
In Lomié most of these were true, and we were two hours late for a meeting with a Bantu community due to heavy rain and pools of mud to cross through the forest. They weren’t too impressed. To be fair, everyone’s late to everything here, but I think two hours was slightly overdoing it… The other two communities we visited though were interested in our idea of developing an app with them through which they can monitor and report poaching in the forest (one applauded after my speech about the app, and the other erupted into song and dance).
A rewarding moment occurred when sitting outside the hotel and local guy starting trying to talk with me in English. After a bit of the ol’ chit chat, he turned to me said “I’m very happy”. I replied “What are you happy about?”. “I’m very happy that you Englishman are here in Cameroon. That you have come to our country.”
We headed north to Bertoua, the capital of the East Region in Cameroon, where we met up with Virginia, a Spanish woman working for a French NGO who knows the Deng Deng region well. She warned my ZSL colleagues and I that this would not be easy – in terms of poaching all the villages are in on it, they don’t care about conservation, and the local law enforcement does nothing. Interesting.
Over the next three days we arranged and carried out meetings with five Bantu communities around the national park. These went surprisingly well with concerns including help with reporting illegal activity and gorillas raiding their banana crops; I was half expecting the villagers to either fall asleep, walk out, or reject everything we were saying about conservation, but actually they were quite engaged. However this might have just been because we had an eco-guard with us, who’s job it is to protect the park and stop illegal activity. In any case, they prepared feasts of fish, manioc wrapped in banana leaves, and rice for us and we will likely go back and revisit at least a couple of the villages to work on developing the anti-poaching app. It’s easy to think of poachers as horrible people who don’t care about anyone or anything, however the villagers we met here were perfectly friendly and poaching not because they hate wildlife but because they have find themselves in an exceptionally difficult situation through which selling bushmeat can provide an answer.
A key problem here is that we do not want villages, which lie very close to one another, to report each other for poaching. It’s easy to see how this would result in conflict between villages and only worsen relationships which should be being strengthened for networking. Given that they all poach, the reporting would have to be of outsiders to all the communities, though as to how these would be identified is tricky.
Additionally, the villages around Deng Deng are in an increasingly uncertain situation. The park itself was created in 2010 as compensation for the huge hydroelectic dam constructed nearby. I’m all for renewables, of course they are the future (and should be the present) of energy, but hydroelectic dams do bring huge environmental costs – costs to ecosystems and species which are aiming to be saved by reducing climate change through building hydroelectric dams (see the irony). And this one has flooded a huge area of primary rainforest, which is now being grossly overfished by an influx of 10,000 people from neighbouring countries, who also chop down the forest to smoke the fish, getting ever closer to the ground of Great Apes, to whom they could spread diseases. Difficult for villages though is that they are trapped between this national park (no hunting, gathering or fishing), and other managed zones (forest management units and community forests), severely restricting their space for farming.
As an incredible highlight, and important reminder of why we are doing this work at all, we stumbled across two gorillas crossing the forest path one evening
Over the 13 communities we have visited in total over the last month, we’ll now need to decide which to work with. As I am working for ExCiteS, the UCL research group developing an app to empower marginalized communities to engage in conservation, my priority is to work with the indigenous Baka groups. Talking to them over the past month has been both inspiring and saddening, but I remain confident that based on their openness to work with us, we can restore at least a tiny bit of their pride, confidence, and governance over the forests of their ancestors. But for now, back to London.