Women rising

With longstanding and critical funding from USAID and other partners, WWF is working with communities throughout the Congo to empower women by teaching them sustainable farming techniques and fire prevention and management; offering them literacy classes; building their leadership and entrepreneurial skills; and ensuring their representation in decision-making bodies. Women are eager to develop leadership expertise for the betterment of their families and communities—and to create a more secure future for their children.

Working with women and their communities is a critical part of protecting the forests and wildlife in this part of the country. Here, the overharvesting of wood for fuel, conversion of wild spaces to agricultural land, overfishing, and excessive hunting of bushmeat (to eat and to sell) are all on the rise to meet the demands of a growing population. Nearby protected areas such as Tumba Lediima Natural Reserve and Salonga National Park harbor an array of wildlife—including endangered forest elephants and bonobos—and uncontrolled deforestation and poaching could harm their already struggling populations. Better land and natural resource management helps take the pressure off fragile ecosystems, reduce reliance on bushmeat and fish, and conserve nature’s bounty.

Until recently, most local development committees governing community farmland, land use, and natural resources consisted only of men. WWF has been instrumental in instituting a new policy that requires these committees to be at least 30% female. Women receive training in integrated agricultural and conservation practices so they can make meaningful contributions to household livelihoods and related decision-making.

One new practice is agroforestry—a technique that incorporates the cultivation and conservation of trees among crops or pastureland for more productive and sustainable land use. The idea is to keep the soil rich and healthy so the land can continue to produce long term, and to avoid the harmful yet common yearly practice of slashing and burning forests to create more agricultural fields.

In recent years, WWF has also supported Congolese women’s fight for land rights, culminating in the summer of 2016 when the government issued a statement reinforcing the law that stipulates women have to be engaged at all levels of decision-making in community forest concessions. Of course, permanently shifting the balance for women both culturally and legally will take time. But a handful of women in these villages have already adopted new leadership roles and agroforestry techniques with gusto. Through their work—and their success—women and men alike are beginning to see the economic, social, and environmental value in cultivating a community of equals.

As the haze of a late afternoon rain shower dissipates over the village of Mbanzi, a group of local women parade down a red dirt path toward their fields, engaged in a call-and-response song they all know by heart. They rest their machetes and hoes on their shoulders or let them swing beside their ankles—gritty implements contrasting with the vibrant patterns of their skirts.

At the helm of this legion walks Victorine Balako, a sinewy, serious figure with a crop of curly black hair framing her face like an aura. When she speaks—proudly, authoritatively—her cohort listens.

“Whenever I have an idea, I tell them,” Balako says. “I’m also the first one to implement it. And when they see it, they are interested and come do it, too.”

Balako is the president of Sala Ozwa, a women’s association formed in 2015 that’s working with WWF to better use shared farmland through sustainable agricultural practices. The name translates to “do, so that you get”—a fitting mantra for those aiming to advance both economically and culturally.

WWF is helping Sala Ozwa learn how to plant multiple crops in one field to keep the soil fertile year after year and realize larger harvests and profits. The practice is an alternative to the slash-and-burn method traditionally employed to create new fields out of nearby forests—a damaging practice that results in the loss of old-growth forests and can accidentally burn out of control and destroy existing fields.

Marthe Lobota stands in the shade of dozens of acacia trees planted in well-kept rows. Across her forehead, she wears a stroke of earthy red paint dotted with specks of white—a traditional adornment worn during special occasions by the indigenous women in the village of Oshwe, near Salonga National Park. Above, the sky threatens rain, but for now thousands of leaves just crinkle in a breeze.

“This piece of land and these trees are ours forever,” Lobota says, surveying the space around her. “We and our children and our grandchildren will benefit.”

Remarkably, 2016 was the first year she could say that. Lobota is president of the Association des Femmes Pygmées de Lokala, a women’s group that focuses on sustainable agriculture and livelihoods. Founded in 2010, the group consists of Batwa, an indigenous group that has historically been marginalized by the dominant Bantu. The women did not legally own the land they worked, despite having paid for it years before. A lack of legal documents signed and stamped by the government meant that a member of the family from which the association had purchased the land could come back at any time to lay claim.

WWF worked with the community and local authorities to redress this inequity, ultimately securing the official land title after months of advocating.

This achievement dovetails with efforts to introduce the Batwa to agroforestry practices—like those used by Sala Ozwa—that will allow them to make their existing fields more productive and sustainable. Fields with fast-growing trees like acacia can provide wood for cooking fuel and furniture. Plants like cassava—a diet staple from root to leaf—can share space with the taller trees and with groundcover crops.

A flurry of buckets disrupts the opaque waters of a stream making its way through a low point in the savanna near the village of Mpelu. About a dozen women have built makeshift dams of mud and sticks on either end of a 10-yard stretch of water, temporarily sequestering the pint-sized fish within. Some hack chunks of earth out of the bank with machetes and use them to further secure the dams, while others scoop pails of water from between the barriers and pour them through a basket. After about 25 minutes, the once knee-deep water has been drained to reveal the sludgy stream bed. The women bend at the waist to explore the thick mud with their fingers. One by one, they pop back up with surprisingly colorful fish dancing in their hands.

Their fishing practices are a sight to behold and represent a new opportunity for women to earn additional income and therefore better provide for their families. Mayala Ngabo, president of the local Women’s Association for Development, and other women in the community are working with WWF to develop sustainable fishing practices and other activities, such as weaving and traditional dancing, that could serve as attractions for ecotourists along with once-in-a-lifetime opportunities to view nearby groups of habituated bonobos.