close
close

Defending the hidden jungle gems of Zambia’s Copperbelt Province

Defending the hidden jungle gems of Zambia’s Copperbelt Province

  • A local community has taken over the protection and management of small evergreen forests known as mushitu forests, which have recently been subject to illegal logging.
  • Armed with smartphones, forest officials oppose loggers while also enforcing community-driven bans against overuse by locals.
  • In times of severe drought, like this year, the forest acts as a lifeline for villages in Ndubeni Chiefdom; Members of these villages depend on the forest not only for water but also for food and medicine.
  • The forest has tremendous cultural and historical significance, and preserving it is key to preserving the cultural history of the community.

MPONGWE, Zambia – The Chimfuneme swamp forest in Zambia’s central Copperbelt province earned its name Lamba – meaning “hiding place” in the local language – long ago when strife tore rival clans apart and those living near this impenetrable natural stronghold hid inside the forest. escape from invaders.

These days, invaders come armed with chainsaws, not spears, and their target is the jungle itself. But the local community has a new defense: honorary forest rangers armed with smartphones.

“If they (illegal loggers) are here with a truck, we take their license plate, even take a photo of their truck and send it to the office,” says Rhodah Kabunda, 21, one of the rangers. “They won’t go anywhere, they (Forest Department officials) will catch them.”

WeForest expansion officer Jackson Mkandawire shows honorary forest rangers a map on his phone showing the boundaries of the Imanda forest, where commercial timber harvesting is not allowed. Photo by Ryan Truscott for Mongabay.

Recently, he and his fellow rangers, whose full title is honorary community forest rangers, encountered a group trying to cut down logs in one of the mushitus, known locally as swamp forests. They forwarded pictures of the loggers’ vehicle license plate numbers to the local Forest Department office in Mpongwe, 25 kilometers (15.5 miles) away.

The vehicle was seized and the case is currently before the courts.

“I think the truck is at the police station right now,” says Kabunda.

According to Zambian law, vehicles used in illegal logging are turned over to the state, and suspects found guilty can face imprisonment or heavy fines.

Under the terms of the Community Forest Management Agreement (CFMA) signed between the government and the community in September, authority over mushitu forests has now been transferred from the province to members of Ndubeni Chiefdom.

Bornface Katite, Mpongwe-based project manager for conservation group WeForest Zambia, says the agreement is the result of months of negotiations between his organisation, the state Forestry Department and community members.

In 2023, before the CFMA was signed or honorary forest rangers were appointed, loggers illegally entered the largest mushitu forest known as Imanda. They felled large trees and cut hundreds of planks, but residents of the surrounding Mulela area reported them to the authorities. The lumbermen were arrested and the planks confiscated.

Katite states that this event is a turning point that WeForest and its partners can build on.

Farmer Ignatius Kakompe stands behind a mahogany tree recently felled by illegal loggers. “They came in a truck at night and then left (with the lumber),” he says. The Community Forest Management Agreement and its commissioned rangers will put an end to outsiders stealing valuable timber to sell to the nearby town of Mpongwe. Image by Ryan Truscott for Mongabay.

“They (community members) now played a key role in protecting (mushitu) because they knew very well that only a few people – those who broke traditional rules – were benefiting from illegal logging.”

When Mongabay visited the mushitu forests in early October, it was at the height of the dry season and the region was still in the grip of a severe drought. But the floor of the Chimfuneme forest area, the historic hiding place of ancient clan members, was thick with ferns, dotted with large pools of clear water, and shaded by dense canopy of trees whose thick trunks were adorned with vines.

Mushitu forests and the wetlands and grasslands surrounding them support a wide variety of birds: more than 220 species have been recorded so far. But in a dry year like this, when farmers in the surrounding chiefdom have severely reduced primary maize harvests, mushitus is also a lifeline.

Soft stems of jungle palms, known in the local Lamba language chisongeIt is collected by some villagers and cooked instead of cabbage. The perennial water that floods the forest floor in February and March, when summer rains are heaviest, provides nutrition throughout the year for a variety of fish that villagers catch for protein.

In recent years, some community members had begun overfishing ponds and streams. Some used mosquito nets or used poison instead of traditional fish baskets to catch fish, and fish populations were not given time to recover.

Tapson Nkata, one of the newly appointed rangers, says the challenges of this year’s drought and new external threats posed by commercial loggers are a much-needed wake-up call for a community whose own governance is slipping.

I’m patrolling the Chimfuneme swamp forest. Even at the height of the dry season, after months of drought, there are pools of clean, fresh water in the interior of the forest. Image by Ryan Truscott for Mongabay.

Nkata, now in his early 60s, was born in the capital Lusaka. However, his family moved to this district in 1969, when he was only 6 years old. Things were different back then.

“We could catch a lot more fish than we do now, but back then there were a lot of animals everywhere,” he says. But today even small antelopes such as ordinary duikers are scarce. While cultivation of crops within mushitu was banned in the past, now people clear large gardens in the middle of forest patches.

“There are swampy places, so maize is easy to germinate and grow,” says Nkata. Raising public awareness is key to combating these local threats, and this is now one of the primary duties of forest rangers.

“When we talk to them, they say, ‘We understand you,'” Nkata says. “They know they committed a crime”

Tapson Nkata, an honorary forest ranger, said that protecting mushitu forests “where everyone can be happy; “It could have a lot of benefits (for the community).” Image courtesy of Ryan Truscott for Mongabay.

Not far from Chimfuneme mushitu there is another place known as Misangwa. Its name means “a place where everything can be found”, a nod to its natural wealth.

Farmer Ignatius Kakome points out that the trees growing here are used as medicine and food.

Mukuyu figs have large ribbed stems, Ficus sycomorusIts large fruits are eaten by humans and indigenous monkey troops. crazy (Cercopithecus mitis) and mubimbi trees (Rauvolfia caffra)Its leaves are used to treat chest infections. “During COVID-19, we would cook them in a pot and inhale the steam,” he says.

But a little further on, Kakome finds a field cleared of all but the largest trees by a local vegetable farmer, and another open field nearby, where ankle-deep leaf litter is still turning into hot ash. Kakome suspects that hunters at the forest’s edge set the forest on fire while trying to clear out large edible rodents known as cane mice.

Here, among the burnt and smoldering plants, there are weathered Chisonge palms. Their young exiles will no longer be able to feed their families. The fire also damaged the bases of much larger trees that produce edible grape-sized insombo fruit, harvested between November and January.

Looking at the destruction from a farmer’s perspective, Kakome estimates that about a hectare of forest was burned. “This is too bad.”

The community plans to not only make the forest no longer closed to commercial logging under its management, but also to put an end to such unsustainable practices of the local people.

Community members will still be able to forage for medicinal herbs in the forest, cut down poles for shelter, fish in their ponds, and collect honey from beehives, but they will need to pay for permits to do so. A percentage of the money raised will be used to support local clinics, schools and senior citizens. WeForest official Katite explains that the aim is to make the distribution of the forest reward more equitable.

“If someone is in old age, it will be difficult for them to access that forest or even derive any benefit from it, but when a structure like the Community Forest Management Group (CFMG) is in place, the specific needs of those who own that forest are prioritized,” he says.

Other less tangible ecosystem services may also be gained in the future.

On the Imanda forest slope near where illegal loggers cut down scores of large trees last year, small silver tags are stuck at chest height on thick trunks and slender saplings. Each of the marked trees grows in one of 20 viewing areas measuring 20 meters by 20 meters (66 feet by 66 feet). WeForest, the Department of Forestry and CFMG currently measure the growth rate of trees to calculate how much carbon they store.

It’s early days, but the study points to possible future carbon capture projects in mushitu forests.

This is another reason to keep trees standing.

And local community members like 21-year-old honorary forest ranger Kabunda are zealous new advocates, armed with nothing but a smartphone, enthusiasm and the community’s full support.

“I would like even young people to come and see Imanda Forest,” he says. “I don’t want it to be destroyed; I want even young people who are not yet born to find Imanda Forest (intact).”

Meet Miombo, the biggest forest you’ve never heard of

Zambia forest reserve recovers with a little help

Restoring degraded forests could be important for climate, study says

Banner image: A tree stump in the heart of Imanda forest. Photo by Ryan Truscott for Mongabay.

FEEDBACK: To use this form To send a message to the author of this article. If you want to post a public comment, you can do so at the bottom of the page.