The Virunga National Park, a UNESCO World Heritage Site, is Africa’s oldest national park. Established in 1925, it encompasses diverse landscapes from snow-capped mountains to volcanic plains and rainforests. The park is known for its exceptional biodiversity, including critically endangered mountain gorillas.
However, Virunga faces violence, poaching, habitat loss, and resource extraction threats. Conservation efforts are underway, but park rangers protecting the park’s wildlife and resources often face danger.
As dawn breaks, the Kanyarutshinya camp in eastern Congo stirs. Women and children, the heart of this displaced community, rise to venture into Virunga National Park, not for leisure but to stave off hunger.
Their journey is arduous. For three hours, they trek through rain-soaked hills, the lush beauty of Virunga contrasting sharply with their plight. This UNESCO World Heritage Site, home to endangered gorillas, has become risky farmland.
Over 7.2 million people, primarily women and children, live in camps like Kanyarutshinya. Government aid is scant, forcing them to cultivate potatoes within the park.
Their path is dangerous. Violence is a constant threat, with clashes between rebels and the national army erupting within the park. At three checkpoints, the women pay 1,000 Congolese francs (about USD 0.35) for the risky privilege of farming forbidden land.
Yet, the women persist, which is both inspiring and tragic. Farming alleviates hunger but harms the park’s fragile ecosystem. Over 300 hectares have already been damaged. Displaced people cultivate crops and cut down trees for survival, activities that persist due to ongoing violence. The park’s use as a battleground further complicates conservation efforts.
The story of these women underscores the human cost of violence, its devastating impact on the environment, and how, ultimately, it robs them of choice: survival becomes the only option, no matter the cost.
Displaced girls and women carry potatoes through Virunga National Park. Photo: The Niles / Daniel Buuma
This article is part of The Niles Issue #19, The Feminine & The Nile, produced by Media in Cooperation and Transition (MiCT) with financial support from the Stockholm International Water Institute (SIWI). It is part of the initiative The Niles: Strengthening Media Capacities and Networks in the Nile Basin, supported by the Deutsche Gesellschaft für Internationale Zusammenarbeit (GIZ) and commissioned by the German Federal Foreign Office (AA). The views expressed in this publication do not necessarily reflect those of SIWI, GIZ, the German Federal Foreign Office, or MiCT.
