Guardians of the Forest: A Message to You

Yakawilu Juruna (Anita) reveals the challenges of life by Brazil's Xingu River, and Elijah shares his eye-opening Amazon journey. Their stories call for global unity in the fight for environmental justice and a sustainable future.

Transcript

My name is Yakawilu Juruna, but most people call me Anita. I was born on the 15th of August, 2001. I'm 22 years old, and I live in a village called Tipa Qisamba.
My village is one of the Volta grid of the Xingu River in the region of Altamira Pará, northern Brazil. My community baths, fish, and drinks in the river, and I used to cross the river in a canoe with my friends and causing every day for fun. But after 13 years, this all changed.
A dam called Belomonte was built in my region. The Xingu River changed. The fish supply changed.
The water purity changed. My life changed. Right now, my Xingu River is very toxic, and we cannot navigate it normally.
Today, when I bath in the river, my skin thickens a lot and I get rushes. When I open my eyes in the water, they get very hot and burned. Not to mention that the water temperature has increased a lot.
The river is dying. Everyone who lives in my community and I have witnessed a river that has always been so beautiful, so full of life, transformed to today where it's toxic and harmful, where it is dead. When I thought it was going to be the end of the destruction to my region, a mining company from Canada called Bellosan announced that would be planning a mine next to my region.
Toxic chemicals like mercury will be leaked into our waters and cause cancer in our stomachs. I just want to join forces to fight these endeavors, which are not good for any of us in the region. I just want my Xingu River to live forever, fish, forest and life.
However, in November 2020, I had the privilege of attending a meeting called Amazon World Center, where I met like-minded people, where there were individuals with experiences different from my own. And there were also young people like me, young people from Europe fighting for climate defense in not only their countries, but for the Amazon as well. May we fight together for the good of the forest, for the weather, for a better future, for all of us.
We need to see the Amazon well and standing, and we are going to keep this alliance we created. They, Elijah McKenzie-Jackson and Adelaide Chermier, need to take everything I said about what is happening back to their countries. I need your help in this.
Take my sadness, my story to the streets. Tell the truth about Belo Mountain, Belo Sun. We need to fight together.
Welcome back to A World Upside Down podcast. The testimony you just listened to was written by Yakawilu Juruna, who also goes by Anita, in 2019, originally in Portuguese and translated in English.
For so long, there's been an enormous gap between passively absorbing statistics online and truly immersing ourselves in raw, unfiltered experiences of others, especially since the scale in endless media and sensationalist headlines have become so normal. It's a wake up call to the immense power of storytelling, to breathe life into data and spark empathy within us is truly remarkable. I've had the privilege of growing up in the UK and now residing in the US, and it's impossible not to acknowledge the stark contrast in privilege.
While I contemplate my future, there are indigenous communities like Anita fighting tooth and nail for basic survival every single day. The sheer injustice of it all is just staggering. It's a huge reminder of the vastly different realities experienced by people across the globe.
Anita's plea for unity and action in the face of environmental devastation resonates deeply. Her call to unite urges us to take her story to the streets, to spread awareness about the destructive impacts of Belomonte and Belo San is something we cannot ignore. It's a reminder that change begins with us, with amplifying voices like Anita's and standing in solidarity with marginalized communities around the world.
Emotional responses to the climate crisis and social inequality, I believe, is crucial in propelling climate action forward on a global scale. If only our world leaders truly listened and emphasized with the lived experience of most affected by the climate crisis, perhaps we will see urgent measures enacted long ago. It begs the question, how could they not?
I think it's disheartening to acknowledge that for many of these leaders, predominantly men, potential emotional reactions might be misconstrued as a sign of vulnerability, equating to weakness. It's a troubling expectation of desensitization and toxic masculinity that obstructs progress and perpetuates systemic inaction in addressing the climate emergency.
For this episode, I think it would be impactful to read out an article I wrote for the Turkish news outlet, Yesul Gazete, over lockdown on my journey into the Amazon rainforest, what I learned and my thoughts on the future.
When I was 15, ahead of COP 25 in October 2019, environmental and human rights activists, scientists, anthropologists, and indigenous forest defenders gathered alongside the Xingu River in the Amazon Rainforest. Scheduled to discuss the safeguarding and preservation of the significant ecosystem, which produces 20% of our planet's oxygen each year, this assembly of innovative individuals was known at the Amazon Center of the World meeting. Ahead of my trip into the Amazon Rainforest, it was obvious that this meeting was going to leave a massive imprint on my life.
It completely shift the way I view the Western world and open my eyes to the extremes people take to gain economic wealth. I had predetermined ideas of what I would learn, what I would do and the impact the trip would create to my personal life, plus the impact in the School Strike for Climate Movement. I thought it was going to be a trip where I could experience a different culture, far from my own, where we would share food and places to sleep, almost like an exchange of lifestyle, to learn from a different perspective, where I would get an insight into how Indigenous communities viewed the climate crisis and what their solutions would be.
And finally, to learn and raise awareness about climate equity and social justice. People often view climate action to be solely focused on environmental mistreatment and respect. However, the term climate justice includes acknowledgement of liberation of people who are currently in the front lines of the climate crisis.
Global South countries and unrepresented communities like the Indigenous population. Communities as such are currently facing fatal effects of the climate emergency, which directly impact the places they live and the resources they need to survive. This is not usually in the media.
So for our movement, this systematic misconduct has paramount importance. I felt apprehensive before the endeavor. I was 15 at the time and still studying towards my final GCSE exams.
Previously, the feeling of underestimation and judgment from my peers and adults chipped away at my confidence and self-worth because of the traditional ideas that children should be seen and not heard. The thought that people were not only ready to listen to such a young voice, but people wanted to hear what I had to say was a surreal experience within itself. It can be very easy for people who follow the Western culture to visit marginalized communities with a mindset of a gracious action of charity they would be giving.
I believe if people enter situations with this narrative, it eliminates opportunity for educational exchanges of knowledge and also impacts the fundamental equality of a human to human connection. The main principle of this trip went completely against this idea. It was not focused on a shallow media stunt to make Western people look elite, humble and giving.
It was an equal educational learning experience where everyone was given an opportunity to exchange experiences, create lifelong alliances and put our powers together to strategize for real change. It's easy to feel like this trip was intruding into the cultures of others without invitation whilst creating a power imbalance against these communities, therefore furthering the idea of colonialism. Although this was not the case, heading into this experience, I was cautious of this concern.
My intentions were as explained. However, the perception of my actions were far from my control. We were invited, celebrated.
We were as one.
Arriving in Brazil alone was contrasting to London. The heat was completely dissimilar to England's summer days, yet alone British autumn weather. I arrived in the city of Altamira in the Amazon, which was the closest location to the assembly, a particular area called Middle Earth, which is pinpointed along the Xingu River.
The moisture in the air immediately became very apparent to me. This was parallel to what people told me beforehand about the high levels of humidity. A moment which will never leave my mind was when I first saw the colour and the masses of vegetation.
The rainforest is something which I've wished to see all my life, something which little kids across the world dreamed to see one day. I was greatly astonished about how green and rich the trees and plants were. The next step of the trip was to travel with 30 other participants deeper into the Amazon rainforest to all gather at the set destination to then commence the two-day conference.
The voyage approximately took three days, including side educational exchanges and reset in different communities located along the Xingu River. All the food we ate was locally sourced and grown by the villages and communities around that area. Additionally, each community we stayed at, another participant would join from that community, building our group as time went on.
Throughout my journey to Middle Earth, I sensed many cultural clashes to my daily routine in London. Firstly, the means of travelling was unique to me. We mainly travelled on water via motorboat or handcrafted log boats paired with beautiful wooden pedals.
No one describes the noises that are heard when in real nature. I could hear monkeys crashing water, ranches and leaves hitting against one another. No vehicles or sirens, no advertisements or storm music.
I could only sense the noise of purity and life. The water was rich in nature. Water snakes, tropical fish and alligators swimming around us.
Commonly that would be unsettling and scary. However, following the feelings of community members who were there travelling with us, I shortly realised that cars and modern technologies are more hazardous than life in the river. And that fear would be irrational compared to my everyday life in a capital city.
I remember a plethora of images and situations which happened while travelling. The first night sleeping in a hammock was surprisingly comfortable. I tried manioc for the first time.
Manioc is the equivalent to a western potato, a root vegetable which is used and processed in countless ways. To bathe, we had the option to use a shower in the community, which filtered rain or river water. Or we could wash in the river, which was most commonly used.
One of my personal goals during this expedition was to engulf myself in and learn about the culture and lifestyle of traditional communities. Without any hesitation, I decided to wash in the river with most of the other participants, excluding a few. Shockingly, I found it very soothing and relaxing.
The temperature was warm, with no debris in its flow. Slowly, the surroundings of the forest became familiar to me over the days of travelling. So when we arrived at Middle Earth, my attention switched from admiring the wilderness to becoming more eager to gain knowledge on the strides taken by individuals in the group to fight for the preservation of the Amazon rainforest and the rights of the people defending it.
The Amazon Centre of the World meeting participants were all inspirational and powerful, who stood up for human or environmental justice. So I was in the ideal place to learn about the history of resistance against Western corporations and corrupt farmers who harmed the natural world and chose profit over the protection of traditional people. I connected with many local participants during my travels deeper into the forest, most of the time through translators due to our language barriers.
I connected with two people specifically during our travel. The assembly was a great time to open up my struggles and experiences and for them to do the same. The Quilombolos are a group of descendants of runaway African slaves who arrived in Brazil in the 17th century.
To escape capture and keep concealment, the group decided to trek deep into the Amazon rainforest, where only indigenous people were homed. From then on, their people had been rebelling against human and environmental injustice. Socorro first approached me at the beginning of the trip.
She touched my hair and asked me in Portuguese, do you drink a lot of milk? While stroking my head, at that time my hair was platinum blonde, so she thought that the colour was due to my diet instead of hair dye. We were both laughing and from then on were connected.
When we made our first stop, just after our departure to Middle Earth, we broke our journey by visiting and rewilding with an uninhabitable land which was previously used for cow grazing. The practice and technique we followed was developed hundreds of years ago by Forest Defenders. The technique was not only to plant diverse tree seeds, but to grow a variety of other plants amongst the trees.
For example, beans and sunflower seeds. This was to ensure that any ant or other animal which would usually eat growing trees would chew and ingest the other plants instead. The other plants act as a defense layer to give the infant trees a greater period of time to grow strong and tall until they do not need any more protection from intruders, apart from humans of course.
Once the eaten plants die, they compose and enrich the soil around the trees. This experience I shared with Socorro. She demonstrated how to scatter the seeds and then we held a type grit to one another's hand while we distributed seeds throughout the land in unison.
At this point, I believe we both gained each other's trust and I felt that she accepted and welcomed me into her world. It was more than that though. It wasn't just an acceptance or a welcome into her life.
It was a common felt bond where we both understood that we were allies and fighting for the same goal, to save the Amazon rainforest. Looking back on this time, it's even more important than I acknowledged previously. During the assembly in Middle Earth, Sakura unveiled some harrowing truths about her upbringing.
My body was given to white men when I was younger. A mining company came into her village and decided to set up camp and completely destroy the environment around her, leaving her young self stripped of all she knew and loved. Her uncle profited from these people.
However, he gave his principles in return. Sakura then went on to tell us about her life in the present day. Her people are battling cancer due to mining waste which was dumped into the river where her village is located.
They can no longer sell their agricultural goods in exchange for money to put towards education and necessities. Why? Because the same water which has poisoned them has poisoned her people's food and water.
The Kinembolus have not accepted defeat though. Maria Dosokoro Silva is now leading rebellion against a Norwegian mining company who has polluted her people's water and killed many animals and humans. There is only one common denominator in Dosokoro's pain.
White men. All the torment, grief and suffering Dosokoro has faced during her lifetime has been caused by my people. The very country I live in and the very continent I travel around, spending my money in funding the destruction.
Of not only the environment, but of people's lives. Stripping childhoods, land and fundamental means to live. Above all of this, Maria Dosokoro Silva still welcomed me into her life with open arms.
No hatred, sorrow or resentment. Only love and peace. Although it's very uncommon that the media cover indigenous mistreatment, there are numerous articles, sources and accounts repeating stories similar to Maria Dosokoro Silva's.
Western land invaders treating indigenous people as toys and viewing them as objects. The dehumanization of any individual or group of people has never been tolerated. However, from this meeting, we have something new, an international alliance.
We will now fight hand in hand to put a stop to the genocide of the Forest Protectors. Another person who has truly changed my life is called Yakawilu Juruna, commonly known as Anita. Anita lives in the village called Sipakasamba in the Voito grid of the Xingu, in the region of Altamira.
Her age is similar to mine, 21 years old, in education, learning language and fighting for climate justice. We, however, live polar lives at first glance. Anita is not learning a modern language for a grade at school.
Instead, her quest is to relearn her people's native, original word. This is the principle of many communities in the forest. Language gives a personal identity.
Anita's ancestors have suffered greatly due to western invasions on land and mistreatment of people. Anita's community is a fishing community and can easily navigate the Xingu River. The river is their existence.
No river, no life. In the Xingu River, a community bathes, fish and drink. She crossed the river with her friends and family daily for fun when she was growing up, always riding a handcrafted canoe.
However, after 13 years, this all changed. She expressed to me through a translator, a dam called Belamonte was built in her region, dismantling all structures of her people's way of life. Take what you need and respect everything else as if it's living, because it is.
Now the Xingu River is very toxic. Her people for the first time are now finding it hard to navigate as usual. Fish are dying.
Belamonte Dam is the fourth biggest dam in the world by in stored capacity and claims to have followed procedures and guidelines set by the Brazilian government to mitigate environmental damage and abide by the human rights policies, according to an article written by Eliane Brum in Atmos Magazine. This is not the end of the wrecking of her region. A mining company from Canada called Bello Sun announced they would be planning a mine directly alongside Anita's community.
Toxic chemicals like mercury are bound to leak into her waters, poisoning her people with cancer, leading them down the same path as the Kinembolos. I heard this from Anita during the end of our trip. Beforehand, we became best friends.
We sat together on the coach at set off when the journey was new. One of the first nights of arrival, she made skin ink out of a special seed and painted my body like hers with traditional, meaningful patterns and symbols. The main symbol used represented the turtle shell.
I discovered through Anita, this was because the turtle represents power and resistance. A passive and peaceful creature with a strong exterior to protect from predators. This was a symbol of the Amazon Center of the World meeting to her.
We all gathered in harmony with respect for each other and the environment to discuss how to dismantle the racist, money-obsessed world we are currently living in. To finally prioritize the environment and the people over economic business growth. Aggression and violence was and still is the opposite of strategies and tactics we use to create real change.
Just like the turtle, I still wear the pattern around my wrist on a traditional bracelet a people gave me during the trip to remind myself what really matters on this earth. Language was no barrier and Anita and I did not share a common spoken word. However, that did not prevent us from communicating.
The translator could not shadow us the whole journey. We took matters into our own hands and started to make our own gestures and draw in the dirt on the ground, carving images in the sand and making sounds and facial expressions to convey our wanted messages. I believe this made our relationship even more special.
We subconsciously created our own little language, made just for us with inside jokes added as time went on. Our lives, battles and experiences couldn't be more opposite. Nonetheless, we are actually quite similar.
We are both teenagers trying to figure out who we are. We both take selfies, listen to the same music and want the world to change for the better. In hindsight, mine and Anita's paths should have never crossed in the way they did.
I should have never needed to travel deep into the Amazon jungle for a meeting about the dying earth. Anita should have never needed to enter into a group of innovators trying to save the future. This meeting was and is still the last resort to save the world, which means humanity in previous history has failed.
I often miss the atmosphere and connections I felt during the meeting and voyage. I truly long to feel the hope I felt when we were dancing around the campfire, singing traditional protest songs, holding hands. I do, however, get reminded of the phrase, power in resistance.
When looking at my wrist, I remember that no matter where any of the participants are located, no matter how far we are physically, we are all living the same shared goal, climate justice, and that this is only the beginning of something much bigger. From all of this, I've learned that strength isn't about economic status or power. Strength is about love and values, morals which hold you high and pure.
The love everyone had for one another and the living planet is something that can never be manufactured in a Western system. The passion and connection holding the trip together, despite many differences, speaks volumes. The future of the Earth was this meeting.