“Umuzungu, umuzungu!!” The children cried. It meant white person. Excitedly, a young boy grabbed my hand with his own. The dust from our greeting blurred my view outlining the village ahead. Elders from a distance stared at us, trepidatious. They relaxed at the sight of Peter, a man they knew well. Peter was the only community member who had ever left the village and returned with a higher education.

The scene unfolded as I, alongside a miscellaneous group of researchers, two from Portugal, one from Mexico, and another from India, approached the settlement of Batwa people in a small province of Rwanda. The Batwa are known today as Historically Marginalized People (or HMP). They exist in a number of small communities across Central Africa. Here, in a central province of Gasabo District, there are a hundred families. All of them live in extreme poverty.

Today, only a few elders remain. For them, life in this settlement is strange. They were born in the forest; their early lives embedded in nature. Batwa communities flourished for generations as hunter-gatherers, far from any roads or towns. “Abasangwabutaka” means original inhabitants of the land. It’s a term used in Rwanda to describe the Batwa.

Today, to call them this name feels bittersweet. For decades the Batwa people have been forbidden from living in the forest. Instead they live on harsh soils, in settlements that are disjointed and inaccessible from any major cities, far from hospitals, schools, or businesses. The Batwa were fully evicted from their land without consultation or compensation from 1970 - 1990.

The Batwa are also known as the “Potters.” They belong to a larger indigenous group native to the Great Lake Region of Africa. Historically the Batwa territory included forests encircling Lake Kivu in Rwanda, and forests in Uganda, Burundi, and the Democratic Republic of the Congo. These forests, home to mountain gorillas and other notable wildlife, provided the Batwa people with sustenance, livelihoods, medicine, and sacred sites for hundreds of thousands of years. 

Spending time in different Batwa villages in the north, northwest and southern parts of Rwanda, I was told many stories. These recollections helped me string together threads of a vast historical tapestry. Peter helped to translate. From elders, I was told of the hardships that followed their eviction from the forest and their homes. Without land to hunt, the Batwa are now dependent on nutrient-depleted land, so growing nutritious — let alone a variety — of food is almost impossible. Many people starved. Today, malnutrition and starvation are still common. In some Batwa villages, over half the children die before reaching the age of 5. Peter tells me that the Batwa have also been denied access to public services, political representation, and indigenous rights. 

In 2012, World Bank Researchers wrote that:

“The challenge for minorities such as the Pygmy is to manage the process of their transformation in an increasingly global society.  This however requires a degree of autonomy, empowerment, and education that the Pygmies lack.  As the poorest group in some of the world’s poorest countries… they do not currently have the means or the capacity to manage and benefit from the process of acculturation.” 

The justification for relocating thousands of Batwa people had to do almost entirely with the establishment of the national parks in Rwanda. These national parks were created in tandem with fortress conservation models largely pushed by western conservationists. This method of conservation involved removing all indigenous people from the land — with an emphasis on the protection of endangered and charismatic wildlife, as often these animals are important for tourism revenue. Notably, in Rwanda, the mountain gorilla was and is of great concern.

Contrary to traditional belief, the Batwa did not threaten wildlife populations prior to their relocation. In fact, studies show a positive correlation between indigenous groups—including the Batwa—and biodiversity. 

Recently, literature has demonstrated that primate biodiversity is less likely to be classified as “declining” or “threatened” in areas that are Indigenous People’s lands (Estrada et al, 2022). Instead, studies suggest that protecting indigenous communities is crucial if we are to prevent or forestall the extinction of the world’s primates (Estrada et al, 2022). 

Following a punitive relocation, the Batwa fell into extreme poverty and unemployment, much of which is visible today in villages throughout the country. The Batwa have also been made deeply vulnerable to discrimination following the de-ethinicization campaign established by the Rwandan Government in 1994. The Genocide—a mass murder between ethnic groups—led to the Government banning any and all ethnic distinctions, including Batwa, which is a subgroup of the ‘Twa’ (which translates to Pygmy, a derogatory term). As they are not officially represented as ‘indigenous,’ Batwa lack indigenous protection or special rights, making them vulnerable to political discrimination. Lack of political representation in Rwanda means Batwa are frequently left out of decision-making. 

Traditional practices, manifested through vivid song and dance, are a living and benevolent force in Batwa culture for both individuals and community. Documenting these instances through photographs and film while in Rwanda was both a joy and a burden; the story of the Batwa people is not my own to tell. For that reason, I applied for grant money together with four Rwandan storytellers to fund a mentorship and indigenous cultural preservation project for Batwa women.

I hope that through their own documentation, the Batwa can capture their lives, history, and culture in time so that their existence is not overlooked or lost.

The story of Dian Fossey, one I cherished as a young girl, is one that portrays westerners as saviors and indigenous people as pillagers. It continues to dominate the conservation narrative, although more inclusive models are gradually gaining popularity. The story of Dian Fossey, like many stories, is tragically incomplete. It leaves out the horrific history and circumstances that indigenous hunter-gathers endured in the name of conservation. It presents groups like the Batwa as damaging to nature. These narratives are fallacious and harmful. Indigenous practices, many of which are centered around sustainability, allowed the Batwa to live in coexistence with the forest for over fifty-five thousand years (Estrada et al, 2022). 

In the future, a permanent archive and photo exhibit to document and showcase the pictures and stories told by and about Batwa people could help make them visible. The lives, history, and culture of the Abasangwabutaka in Rwanda are in danger. We have a responsibility to ensure that the Batwa have the tools to create livable futures for themselves, ones that include opportunities of their own interest. An archive is just one idea that could promote progress towards equity, representation, and reparations for the Batwa people. Through empowerment, education, and an ability to shape their own narratives and pass on indigenous knowledge, there is a fighting chance to prevent the erasure of a vibrant indigenous culture before it’s too late. The question now remains: who will act?