Ituri, DRC — Deep in the Ituri forest, the morning mist envelops the canopy, and the silence is broken only by the rustling of leaves and the distant song of birds. Jean Makuke (a pseudonym for security reasons) has lived here for several years, far from his family, his life dictated by the patrols. An eco-guard at the Okapi Wildlife Reserve, he embodies the Congolese state agents tasked with protecting one of the country’s most precious natural heritages, at the cost of constant risk.
“The risks are frequent because we live in the forest to investigate conservation-related offenses,” he explains. For Jean, each patrol is an act of extreme vigilance. Illegal activities—poaching, logging, and mining—carried out in the very heart of the reserve regularly hinder the work of the eco-guards. “Often, we are stuck in the field because of these illegal activities,” he says.
But the threats don’t only come from the forest. “We are often threatened by foreigners, especially Chinese who are exploiting a World Heritage site, but also by armed militias,” says Jean. These pressures transform the eco-guards into frontline actors in a silent conflict, where nature conservation, economic interests, and chronic insecurity intertwine.
The Okapi Wildlife Reserve is one of the last refuges for the okapi, an emblematic species of the DRC and classified as vulnerable. Here, every intervention to protect wildlife can trigger direct or indirect reprisals. Official figures remain fragmented: documented incidents, equipment losses, and patrol reports often only reflect the tip of the iceberg.
In Walese Karo, the eco-guards were targeted during tensions surrounding the death of a traditional chief. Wrongly accused, they found themselves exposed to reprisals, even though the events stemmed from social and security dynamics that went beyond their conservation mission. “We are not just protecting animals,” says Jean, “but an ecosystem and the future of our country.”
Makuke’s daily life is punctuated by patrols, night rounds, and monitoring sensitive areas. Fear, constant stress, and invisible surveillance take their toll. In some villages near the reserve, relations with the communities are sometimes strained, particularly where traditional land use conflicts with conservation rules, creating gray areas where harassment by the eco-guards becomes a tool of indirect pressure.
The consequences go far beyond a simple news item. Every threat weakens the reserve, jeopardizes conservation programs, and erodes the trust of international partners. The safety of the rangers is a barometer of the overall health of conservation in the DRC. A forest under pressure quickly becomes a place where biodiversity and human security are intertwined in a precarious balance.
For Jean Makuke, each day is a lesson in resilience. Behind the simple ranger uniform lies a total commitment, sometimes at the cost of his own safety. The silent, dense forest is both his workplace and his battlefield. As the sun breaks through the canopy, the rangers resume their patrols, aware that every step can be decisive. In this struggle where courage and ingenuity are the only weapons, protecting the okapis becomes much more than a mission: it is a fight for life, and for the very integrity of the Okapi Wildlife Reserve.
By Andy Kambale Matuku
Magituri originally published this article as part of the 2025 Environmental Defenders Journalism Grants.
Original link: https://magituri.cd/2026/03/18/traques-en-protegeant-le-combat-quotidien-dun-eco-garde-de-la-reserve-de-faune-a-okapis/