Violence in the eastern Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC) has intensified in recent months. With the M23 rebels occupying more and more space and the United Nations mission (MONUSCO) expected to end before 2025, self-defence groups are increasingly
taking centre stage.

They want arms. They don’t care what sort they are, who sells them to them or where they come from, as long as they end up in their hands. They want weapons to wipe out those hiding on the other side of the bush, but also to save their families and protect their land from the war that is spreading in North Kivu province in eastern DRC. They are the Wazalendo (“patriot” in Swahili), a new local defence militia that has been fighting against the M23 guerrillas since the summer of 2023 and is trying to replace the role of the Mai-Mai militias in the area.
There is no age range or “limit” to being a Wazalendo. In the battalions, retired soldiers mix with young farmers, shopkeepers, unemployed men, mechanics, patriots and girls who are approaching adulthood and who avoid the furtive glances of their companions. At road checkpoints, crowded into positions close to the front and playing cards in the rear, dozens of teenagers are integrated into the militia.

The city of Goma with Nyiragongo volcano in the background. CC BY-SA 2.0/MONUSCO Photos

These militiamen are not part of any government military force and collaborate with the regular army. Wazalendo is the nickname given to dozens of armed groups divided into neighbourhoods, villages and cities that come together with the sole purpose of protecting their land. They put aside their differences to face a common enemy. The neighbourhoods and villages threatened by the M23 have organized themselves, armed themselves as much as possible and are fighting.
This is the case of former general Mbokani Kimanuka, who currently commands 2,780 men and 70 women divided into five regiments. Kimanuka was a military man until he retired to take up farming. But when war knocked on his door, he buttoned up his old uniform and recruited the force that today protects Goma on the slopes of the Nyiragongo volcano. The government asked him to use half of his men to prevent the M23 from conquering the volcano since its summit would become the ideal point for the guerrillas to launch the final offensive against the city. The fighting occurs almost daily. It is Intense, with few victims, but equally mourned by everyone.

The Congolese National Armed Forces (FARDC) are reinforcing their positions around Goma. CC BY-SA 2.0/ © MONUSCO/Clara Padovan

Every loss means the death of a fighter, but also that of a neighbour, a childhood friend, or a brother. The former general states that the very essence of Wazalendo lies in this very human aspect: “We have a strong collaborative relationship with civilians. They are the ones who give us food, water, blankets and wood for the fire to keep us warm. We eat because our women come every day to bring food for us to the base.”
He adds that family and friendship ties between the militia and civilians explain part of their effectiveness. “We are in the front line of battle – he says – and we don’t back down. While the military can fall into the abyss of panic during the fighting, a Wazalendo cannot retreat because he has his home behind him and retreating would mean giving up his home.”

Two waterways
The Wazalendo was born from a double necessity: the inability of the Congolese army to face the M23 in the past two years and the inertia of the United Nations mission in the country (MONUSCO) after almost 25 years from its inception and a few months from its departure from the country. The Wazalendo base their actions on Article 41 of the Congolese Constitution, which states that “every citizen has the right to a healthy, satisfying and lasting environment and must defend it.” The country’s legal framework allows the creation of armed militias, provided that their purpose is in line with the interests of the state and that they do not increase national instability.

Population fleeing their villages due to fighting between FARDC and rebels groups. MONUSCO/Sylvain Liechti

As for MONUSCO, Kimanuka expresses his disappointment by saying that he would like “them to leave Congo” and criticizes them saying “The fact is that they did not fight on the front line with us”. He wants the UN out of his country and is happy that the mission will technically end before 2025. As for the M23, the former general cites Rwandans, Ugandans and ‘white mercenaries’ in the ranks of the M23. For him, this is a war that the Congolese must fight without help because the help that comes to them is often counterproductive due to the interests linked to third countries in the riches of the DRC.
Congolese President Félix Tshisekedi is aware of the risk of entrusting the security of North Kivu to the militias. One of his promises during the election campaign preceding the December 2023 elections was to ensure the integration of militias into the army and to this end he proposed creating a reserve force. Former general Kimanuka agrees, although he believes that it would be more appropriate for the Wazalendo to be integrated into the army at the end of the conflict, rather than
during the course of it.

Shortage of material
To avoid improper use of weapons, militiamen receive very little military equipment with which to engage in combat. When a Wazalendo prepares for battle, he holds his machete close and a sorcerer applies the gri-gri spell that makes him ‘invisible.’
Only one in four uses an AK-47 instead of a machete. They fight and die, win or lose. When the latter happens, enemies flee and it’s time to desecrate the dead. The militiamen can keep the rings and the few banknotes they find during the looting, but the weapons they seize from the fallen are sent to the military authorities who decide how many the Wazalendo are to keep and how many are to be allocated to the state arsenal. Kimanuka states that “there are very strict rules regarding the movement of weapons, especially to avoid abuse. A Wazalendo who misuses his weapons will be tried by a military court, not a civilian one.”

People on the road from Virunga National Park to the city of Goma. iStock/ guenterguni

The Tshisekedi government’s restriction on the movement of weapons would appear to be a welcome measure, but both the former soldier and other militia members interviewed suggest a sense of frustration on their part. The scarcity of weapons among the militias and the government’s control over them hinders any hint of initiative on the part of the Wazalendo. Their offensive actions are limited to those directed by regular army commanders.
“If it weren’t for us, the M23 would already be in Goma. We are the only possible defence; we are the front line.” This is how the former general responds when questioned about the usefulness of his militiamen. The army almost never participates in actions in rural areas and the bulk of the troops are stationed in the cities, awaiting the final attack, if it comes. The militiamen’s motivation is strong, based on land and family, but Kimanuka believes Kinshasa could offer them incentives to make their actions even more decisive. He asks for adequate pay and equipment. A salary, however symbolic, replacing, to some extent, the jobs that the militiamen left to offer their lives for their country. Starting with boots without holes, rain ponchos, food, machete-sharpening stones and above all weapons. Without them, they cannot win the war.

A dangerous game
The DRC government is playing a dangerous game with the militiamen. On the one hand, looking at previous experiences, it limits the actions of the Wazalendo and reduces the flow of weapons in their direction; on the other hand, precisely for this reason, it arouses frustrations among these militiamen eager to liberate their land, but who see their government containing them, imposing deprivations on them. The gri-gri is ‘very effective’ until it is pierced by a bullet. The machete is useful in close combat, but useless during a forest firefight. And the lack of means translates into victims. Losses turn into tears. And the tears of the militias can evaporate, leaving behind a corrosive salt that repeats the history of the Mai-Mai militias.

The United Nations mission (MONUSCO) is expected to end before 2025. UN Photo/Clara Padovan

It can be establihed that the direct culprit for each of the victims would be the M23 guerrilla who fired the shots, but the Wazalendo is starting to understand that there is also an indirect culprit or a culprit by omission: the government.
The promise to integrate the members of these armed groups did not materialize, but it allowed President Tshisekedi to receive the support of these in the presidential elections that led to his re-election.
Eyewitnesses speak of militiamen, led by commanders who have not had formal military training, who often become protagonists of violence against the very populations they say they want to defend. Furthermore, bloody clashes have been recorded between different factions of the Wazalendo. Cardinal Fridolin Ambongo Besungu, Metropolitan Archbishop of Kinshasa, recently declared that “Armed groups ultimately become a danger to the population, extorting money from citizens, committing thefts and murders and in the business of illegal trading of minerals extracted from artisanal mines in the area”.

Alfonso Masoliver

In Saint Louis, in the north of Senegal, boat building is one of the most deeply rooted activities among the population at large.
The bright colours and texture say a lot about their owners, their profession and their goals. Fishermen and migrants share both space
and an uncertain future.

Mamadou is sitting on a wooden bench, looking at his artwork. He gets up, hands smeared with white and red paint and runs a paintbrush along the bottom of one of the boats covered with sketches of the rivers, beaches and sea of Senegal. Although there is still a lot of work of this kind Mamadou is one of the few to practice this craft, and he is fuelled by enthusiasm. “It’s an honour to be a painter. There are no more than ten of us left in this city,” he says proudly.
His family has lived in St Louis for over fifty years. His father was also a boat painter. When he was younger, Mamadou said he wanted to become like his father. “It’s a very common profession in my family; almost all of us did the same thing,” he adds. Despite efforts to continue the family tradition, Mamadou insists that wages are still low. “I would like to continue painting, but I wouldn’t be able to feed myself,” he explains. The young man says that it is usually necessary, first of all, to negotiate the price with the boat builder and, in this tug-of-war, the price does not exceed around 150 euros per boat. “Sometimes it takes up to three weeks to paint an entire boat. It depends on the weather, but also on the paint available,” he says.

To make a boat you need a special wood and it is found more than 400 kilometres away, near the border with Guinea Bissau. 123rf

To make a boat you need a special wood and it is found more than 400 kilometres away, near the border with Guinea Bissau. It is from there that the main material for the boats that Mamadou paints comes: teak wood from the Casamance region, one of the richest in vegetation and
forests in the whole country.
Teak wood, also known as a luxury wood, is so durable that it is in demand by builders in Saint Louis, one of the country’s busiest fishing spots. “Casamance wood can take days or weeks to get here, and when it arrives, not everyone can afford it,” says Sidi, one of the locals surrounding Mamadou’s canoe.

When boats are used to transport migrants, they are usually using old boats that have lost their colour and are restored for that last journey. File swm

After buying the lumber and paint, construction of the canoe begins. On the banks of the port, the noise of the hammers merges with that of the waves. A group of young men fix rusty bolts to one of the precious wooden planks. From bottom to top, stylizing the two ends, bow and stern, they are working on one of the many boats stranded on the beach in this corner of West Africa. The boats may all seem similar but in reality, they are not. The construction or reconditioning processes are different, depending on the intended use of each vessel.
In those used only for fishing, wooden planks are arranged horizontally so that the crew can sit on them. In this case, fishermen go out to sea with brand new boats, with new teak wood and shiny paint. When boats are used to transport migrants, they are usually using old boats that have lost their colour and are restored for that last journey. The owners are looking for boats with deeper hulls, so they can carry more people on one of the deadliest migratory routes in the Atlantic.

Display items and symbols
Ibra Niang has lived in Lepe (Huelva, Spain) since 2019. He is a 36-year-old Senegalese migrant who left the country because a physical disability in his leg and the shortage of fish prevented him from working. He was a fisherman and a painter, just like Mamadou. Ibra keeps his artistic talent alive and sells his artwork. On the canvas, on a white wooden easel, there is no shortage of colours. His palette, like Mamadou’s, is stained with red, yellow, green and white, the colours he says are the most popular among Senegalese boatmen. “Red symbolizes spilled blood; yellow is the symbol of gold and success; green is the colour of hope, while white is the light that accompanies us”, he explains. Among the dozens of moored boats one can see some white stars positioned at the highest points. Almost as if to preside over the exit into the sea.
“When there is no star, the owner of the boat wants to highlight the colours of Pan-Africanism. On the other hand, the star highlights the Senegalese flag,” says the artist.

Young people, waiting to go to Europe. File swm

Thousands of miles away, in Saint Louis, boats travel along the canal until they reach the open sea in what becomes a parade of art and colour. The United States flag is wrapped around the bow of a young man’s boat as he sets off alone. Then, amidst applause and laughter, a group of fishermen point to the logo of the Chicago Bulls, Chicago’s professional basketball team. There is not only praise for the United States. Every now and then there is an illustration with allusions to Europe, particularly Spain or France. “Boat owners paint these flags because that’s where they want to travel or where they dream of living in the future,” Niang says.

Fishermen go out to sea with brand new boats, with new teak wood and shiny paint. Photo: Michele Cattani

Niang remembers his crossing to reach Spain: “I didn’t travel on a boat like the ones you see in Senegal. I started my journey in Morocco. In a plastic boat, with no colours”, says Niang. The young man arrived in Spain in 2019, together with 32 other people. His brother welcomed him to the peninsula. Today he dedicates himself to art and exhibits paintings that he sells in Lepe, in the province of Huelva or in different parts of the country. He also does so online using his website. He is one of the lucky ones who managed to cross along one of the deadliest migratory routes and now his dream is coming true. In his village, a few meters from Mamadou, dozens of young people gather on the beach of Ndar Toute. Some of the canoes that sail the Atlantic towards the Canary Islands depart from there, all looking for a better life.
“It’s incredible that on the boats I paint there are so many young people, women and children who want to get to Europe. I will never understand it,” says Mamadou. Last year, according to the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR), around 186,000 people arrived by sea in southern Europe – Italy, Greece, Spain, Cyprus and Malta. The data also indicate that more than 2,500 migrants have died or disappeared in the Mediterranean in the same period. (Open Photo: Traditional painted wooden fishing boat. 123rf)

Soraya Aibar

How to improve the relationship between local communities and the environment. The great wealth of biodiversity of the Bijagós archipelago. The inhabitants are the custodians of their ecosystem.

The rainy season begins and with it the turtle counting activities in the João Vieria Poilão Marine National Park (PNMJVP). This area belongs to the Bijagós archipelago, located off the coast of Guinea-Bissau, West Africa. It is the third largest colony of giant sea turtles on the continent and every year both the body that manages the protected areas and the population welcome this responsibility with the same enthusiasm.Bijagós is a group of islands and islets declared a biosphere reserve by UNESCO in 1996. Of the 88 islands, 22 are inhabited, with a population of 33,000, although the population is mainly concentrated on five of them.

Antonio Pérez, director of the João Vieria Poilão Marine National Park (PNMJVP) since 2018. (Photo: Sara Martín López)

Biosphere reserves are developed under the “Men and Biosphere” Program (MaB). Selected for their scientific interest, they are mainly based on three criteria: conservation and protection of biodiversity, sustainable economic and human development and logistical support for research and education activities.
The MaB is an intergovernmental program that seeks to establish a scientific basis for improving the global relationship between people and their environment. Launched by UNESCO in 1972, it proposes an interdisciplinary research and capacity development agenda focusing on ecological, social and educational dimensions to improve the livelihoods of human beings. This proposal should include innovative approaches to economic development that are socially and culturally appropriate and environmentally sustainable.

The work of protection
The Institute for Biodiversity of Protected Areas (IBAP), created in 2014, manages the protection of natural spaces with very clear objectives: to promote the conservation of ecosystems and biodiversity, as well as support the creation and management of protected areas.
The challenges of the PNMJVP are more specific: the protection of biodiversity and island ecosystems, the conservation of sea turtles and colonial aquatic birds, the protection and valorisation of the cultural heritage of Bijagós, the contribution to the regeneration of fish resources and the development of eco-tourism.
In addition to the dense palm trees, jungle, mangroves, paradisiacal white sand beaches and crystal-clear waters, the Bijagós archipelago is not only a perfect destination for ecotourism lovers’ dream holidays, thanks to its diversity, but for biologists and scientists it is also a natural laboratory that offers a scenario for studying possible cures for the world’s deadliest diseases.

A group of elderly people at a meeting. Their entire culture revolves around nature, from which they draw everything from food to medicine. The elderly population is fundamental for the transmission of this wisdom. (Photo: Sara Martín López)

Antonio Pérez, originally from Bissau, has been the director of this park since 2018. Here he leads and coordinates activities related to conservation and awareness. “The turtle counting season lasts four months, from August to November. The number of turtles welcomed into the park varies greatly depending on the stage of maturity of the individuals ready to lay their eggs and taking into account various factors such as environmental threats and physical conditions. Green turtles and hawksbill turtles are the most common in this archipelago”, explains Pérez, and adds that “even if we have not reached 100,000 units, the number is high, almost close to that of Costa Rica. In 2020 we reached 60,000 nests on the island of Poilão, which makes us the third most important place on the Atlantic coast.”
To cover this reception period, the Institute for Biodiversity of Protected Areas (IBAP) and the population of the island are responsible for the process. This is one of the reasons why awareness meetings are held in the various villages in which the entire population is invited to participate.These meetings are two-way. On the one hand, the different problems that the population faces in daily life are presented and the islanders are informed and made aware of the protected fishing areas within the PNMJVP and how they can actively contribute to its conservation work. On the other hand, they are encouraged to form associations and present initiatives to participate in projects led by international organizations.

Daily life
The people who inhabit these islands maintain a subsistence economy in which they extract and consume what they need from nature, which results in a high degree of conservation and respect for the environment. The inhabitants are the custodians of their ecosystem.
One of the tasks undertaken and promoted by the local population is collective work. Through associations, they meet periodically to discuss various issues. The awareness work they carry out is extremely important, since maintaining environmental balance directly affects the livelihood of the population.

Fishermen collecting the nets in an old traditional fishing canoe near the island of Orango at sunset. Shutterstock/TLF Images

As in any formal meeting, an agenda is followed, the names of the participants are noted and minutes are drawn up as a summary of the work. In these meetings, questions are raised, and discussed and future activities are established according to a timetable. The whole population is invited: young people, elderly people, women and children.
People’s awareness about biodiversity conservation is very high. They know that their survival depends on maintaining natural resources. Their entire culture revolves around nature, from which they draw everything from food to medicine. The elderly population is fundamental for the transmission of this wisdom, which is different on each island since each has its ecosystem and its species to protect.
On some of these islands and villages, there is no western impact. There are no roads, no cars, no hotels, no electricity, no running water. In these corners of Bijagós, it is understood that economic development will be based on projects linked to the conservation of the environment, species, renewable energy, ecotourism and cultural values. (Open Photo: An island of Bijagós, UNESCO Biosphere Reserve. Shutterstock/Anton_Ivanov)

Sara Martín López