This river in Ogoniland,
Southern Nigeria provides locals with a livelihood.
But much of it is contaminated with oil. Environmental activist
Celestine AkpoBari has been campaigning against
oil multinationals for years. What you see in my hand
here is dirty, deadly crude oil. Nothing has changed here. People still drink polluted water,
because they have no alternative. And that is like benzine, carcinogenic,
the water we drink in Ogoni. Environmental disaster is
part of everyday life here. Celestine AkpoBari
wants the oil companies and the Nigerian government
to compensate local people for the toll itís taken on their
health and the suffering itís caused. Heís been threatened, persecuted,
beaten by police and authorities, and even jailed for protesting. Because you have been asking
questions, as an activist about corruption, you have been asking
questions about oil exploration, and they know, this is an enemy
and you have to eliminate him. And they do that quite often. By
a lot of activist people. Some died. Here in Nigeria,
people are fighting back. Theyíre taking to the streets to
protest against violence, corruption - and pollution. Theyíre prepared
to risk their lives for their cause. And theyíre not the only
ones. This is a global issue. Like Celestine AkpoBari,
people around the world are fighting back against
environmental destruction. Here in the Peruvian rainforest, Lucila Pautrat is taking on the
palm oil mafia and drug cartels. She works to protect
the Amazon rainforest and the threatened indigenous
people and farmers who live here. And in Romania,
environmentalist Tiberiu Bosutar and investigative journalist Alex
Nedea are on an equally risky mission. Their work tackling the
countryís timber mafia has made them targets
of criminal gangs. Back in Nigeria. Conservationist
and human rights activist Celestine AkpoBari wants
to show us the devastation caused by the oil industry
here in the Niger Delta. Heís not only fighting
against the oil multinationals, but also corruption
in his own country. Itís a mission thatís
fraught with danger. Weíre accompanied by
security throughout the trip. Nigeria is one of the most
oil-rich countries in the world. But the cost of these riches is
clearly visible in the Niger Delta, home to the Ogoni people. Oil pollution has destroyed livelihoods,
as Celestine AkpoBari is all too aware. We meet two fishermen.
Their nets are almost empty. A yield that has to feed two
families. Oil is a billion-dollar industry. But the people here are poor. I live from fishing,
itís all there is. The water has made him
ill. His skin is diseased. Look at my body. His skin problems are a result of
contact with oil-contaminated water. When their nets get snarled up, the fishermen dive under
the boat to disentangle them. And there arenít even
any fish left to catch. No fish there. No fish. Many of the pipelines and drilling
bits in the Niger Delta are old. Shell hasnít drilled directly in
the delta for more than 25 years. The oil wells are
increasingly dilapidated, and rusty pipelines
easily rupture and burst. The crude oil
destroyed all here. In 2004, a leaking Shell
pipeline left the waterways near the village of
Goi polluted. The contaminated area was the
size of more than 100 soccer fields. Almost 20 years after the disaster,
the area still hasnít recovered. Yet locals still
bathe in the river - despite knowing the
dangers lurking in the water. This our swimming pool. We know itís
contaminated, but we still come here. The youngsters donít
have anywhere else to go. But now the people of Goi
have grounds for optimism. After years of legal action against
Shell, the Hague Court of Appeal ruled last year that Shell's
Nigerian subsidiary is liable for the consequences
of the 2004 oil spill in Goi. The UKís Supreme
Court is now also allowing the other oil-contaminated communities
near Goi to sue Shell in UK courts. Several winnings process in The
Hague or London, they are victories. A victory for the people. A victory
for our struggle. Because every time, that Shell is defeated
in a court of law, shows, that we are saying
about shell is true. We are not just lying and
not making noise or blabbing. Shell refuses to
accept responsibility. The company writes that
the oil spills in question occurred in communities
heavily affected by oil theft, illegal refining and pipeline sabotage.
Regardless of the cause of oil spills, Shell Nigeria provides
cleanup and renovation. However, Shell Nigeria has
neither cleaned up the area nor paid any compensation
to date. Despite the verdict, Shell accuses locals of
having sabotaged the pipelines. The oil-contaminated
area is in Ogoniland. Community leader
King Okpabi is outraged. Shell is 110% responsible...
They know what they are doing. It is a very deep corruption
pattern that has been going on. You will see that
this type of people, they dont have knowledge of
taking crude oil and to do what with it. We here at home, we hope, that Shell should stop taking us
from courthouses to courthouses. Nigeria is a complex country. Conservationists like Celestine
AkpoBari and critics of the government arenít the only ones who
have to fear for their safety. Foreign television
crews are also at risk. Kidnapping, robbery and
assault are commonplace, and the country has one of the
highest crime rates in the world. Weíre accompanied by a
six-person security team that never leaves our side. Despite Nigeriaís vast oil
reserves, there are long lines at the gas stations. There are hardly any state-owned
refineries in the country. A liter of gas costs around 60
cents. Most people canít afford that, as they earn around 150? a month. People are angry
at the government. This is really corruption here.
I donít like it. I am tired of this. According to
Transparency international, Nigeria is one of the worldís
most corrupt countries. The United Nations
reports that life expectancy in the oil-contaminated Niger
Delta has fallen by about ten years compared to other
parts of the country. Many children die
before the age of five. These are the concerns driving
not only Celestine AkpoBari, but also Esther Ato, the leader
of the Goi women's movement. Most people from Goi
fled to other communities. Many families could no longer
live here. What could they all live on? Their livelihood as fishermen
and farmers was lost. Thereís no money for food, medicine
and education for the children. People have fled because
of the oil contamination. Many went to Akwa Ibom state.
Here in Iko town,150 km further east, the effects of the oil
contamination are still being felt. But Father Peter Egilewa helps
people get back on their feet and rebuild their
lives, as farmers. But he too lives
in constant danger - like many priests who campaign
against corruption and oil pollution. In the last six months alone, six priests have been
kidnapped or murdered in Nigeria. If you speak out against the
government, you put yourself in danger. I lived in Germany
for seven years. I've visited Italy, I've visited
Spain and Belgium and Britain. I've seen how people live there. Here
in Nigeria we have oil, bronze, gold. But the people have seen nothing
of all that God has given us. The country has a population
of more than 200 million. Over 80% of people
live in poverty. We priests keep on fighting,
and hoping for a brighter future. Emmanuel Clinton and his
family had hoped for a better life after fleeing the polluted Niger Delta
ten years ago and settling in Iko Town. Oil pollution had meant Emmanuel
could no longer work as a fisherman. We visited him in his new home,
which he shares with four children, his mother-in-law and
his heavily pregnant wife. My life is here a little bit
better than on the island. The oil company destroyed
our source of living. I lost my father. I lost my
uncle and two of my sisters, because our live
was very difficult. A lot of people died, a
lot of lives have been lost, that they cannot afford to treat
themselves, because they are poor. Before you get a good medical
health, you have to travel 48 km which costs a lot of money. To where
you can get access the health facility. The Clintons now earn
their living as farmers. They grow bananas and mangoes,
harvesting several times a year. Fishing is no longer an option,
because the rivers are so contaminated. How much money, did you get for
bananas, for examples, for one kilo? A kilo, should be between
450 and 500 Naira. The equivalent of
1 euro 20 per kilo. Emmanuel Clinton sells a few
kilos each week at the market. Land farming is more
profitable than fishing. But the family still
canít afford windows, and thereís no electricity here. They use a bucket of water
behind a tin shack to wash. The only source of
water is 20 meters away. Thatís fresh water, my
wealth, for bath and drinking. And this is also a source of all
others not only for my family in the area. The water is shared
by ten families. The next morning we
accompany Emannuel Clinton, Father Peter and conservationist
Dr. Ngonso Blessed to Edowink Village. This is where Emannuel
Clinton lived before the oil spill. Itís the first time heís
been back since 2012. When the oil spillage coming.
A lot of people were homeless. Some people lost their
lives, lost their family. Some people decided to leave like
me. I was very down and affected. I have to leave with my family. Are you excited, now? I am very happy to be here once again.
I am happy to be here in my community. On our way, we pass some of
Shellís huge oil storage tanks. They bring back bad memories. Well be threatened by
companies, who are working with Shell. When the community
demonstrated against shell, the military president of Nigeria,
General Ibrahim Babangida, send military troops. They
destroyed all the houses, including my fatherís
house, and they killed people. When we arrive in Edowink Village,
Emmanuel is given a warm welcome. Heís keen to see his old home. This is my house,
I left for ten years. I am very happy to come to see my
house again. By grace I look it again. His cousin lives here now. Many
houses and shacks are abandoned. The people who still live here
continue to drink oil-contaminated water. This is the first stage of the water.
Where you get it from the tab here. It looks clean. But a few minutes
later you see the oil is coming out floating on the surface.
This is what the people drink. The few remaining locals live from
fish they catch in the contaminated sea. What is the price for this one? This one will be 1500 Naira. He spent 12 hours at sea - to earn
the equivalent of just 3,50?. And he has a
family of six to feed. Father Peter Egilewa is a
regular visitor to the island. There is no agriculture here, only
fishing. That's why I come here. I want to give people
hope for the future. The security team
is keen we get going. Clinton wants to stay
for another few days. On the way back, we
pass rusty, leaky pipelines. Young locals illegally
siphon off crude oil from them. Dr. Blessed and Father Peter point
out one of many small illegal refineries on the banks of the Niger. They used to make a decent living
from fishing, these two brothers tell us. Then came the oil disaster - and
they no longer had a livelihood. We take the crude
oil and we heat that. When we heat it, there are three
different phases. First we get paraffin. Then second we get
petrol and then diesel. The fuels are distilled. They keep cooling the residual
oil with water so it doesnít overheat. It gets unbearably hot,
and toxic fumes fill the air. A barrel this size
fetches around 120?. But most of it is spent on bribes
to the police and the military. Theyíre left with only 30
euros per barrel, Isaac explains. Yes, we have to share our profits
with the police and the military. They get a share first then they
get free, before we do our business. We donít stay long. Our camera
could attract the police and the army. The young men will be
working through the night. Before we head back
south to Ogoniland, Dr. Blessed wants us to
see Exxon Mobileís gas flaring - the practice of intentional
burning of natural gas during the oil
extraction process. For this flaring, people
don't get compensation even though it damages the water,
the ground, the complete nature, the vegetation, the farmland. The
heat is unbearable for a human life. Gas flaring is a significant
contributor to climate change. Despite being made illegal
in the Niger Delta in 2005, companies continue to do it. As activist, you mobilize local
communities for demonstrations. Then the police authorities
pick you out, block your accounts, deposit illegal money into them. And claim you're doing money
laundering. And you are arrested. Security guards suddenly appear, even though weíre not on
Exxon Mobile premises. We leave. Letís go, go go... A number of oil companies have
promised to end gas flaring by 2030, instead using the associated
gas as an energy resource. But for now the toxic
practice continues unabated. Back in Ogoniland. For environmental
activist Celestine Akpo Bari, there is only one way the
oil-contaminated Niger Delta can be made livable again. We must to continue this
struggle. If we dont do it, we have no future for Ogoni, no
matter we continue to struggle this fight. Look like the children going
into the creek, they have to swim, they have to drink polluted
water, they see crude oil on it... There is no alternative. The Shell oil spill
devastated Ogoniland. But the people who live here
are not ready to give up hope. With their tireless campaigning, environmentalists and human
rights activists are risking their lives. Not only here, but
around the world. According to a report by the
organization Global Witness, 227 environmental activists
worldwide were killed in 2020. More than ever before. Theyíre particularly at risk in
countries that have plentiful resources, such as timber, oil and gold
deposits. Or where drug cultivation and the illegal palm oil
industry are flourishing. The actual figure
could be even higher. The headquarters of the
Environmental Investigation Agency, EIA, are in Washington DC. The agency investigates
environmental crimes, gathering information undercover
in highly dangerous places. The threats are growing and to some
extent becoming increasingly violent. In some cases, indigenous
people who defend themselves against illegal loggers
and gold prospectors have been tortured
and massacred. We also work with people
who get threatening phone calls, their families are threatened, theyíre
sent messages on Whatsapp that say: I know where your
child goes to school. The murder rate is
especially high in the countries bordering the Amazon rainforest. Here in Peruís Pucallpa region,
illegal deforestation is a major problem. Home to a
population of 2 million, Pucallpa on the edge of the
rainforest is a hub of the illegal trade in tropical timber. Logs brought
here are shipped first to Lima, and from there to
the rest of the world. Lucila Pautrat is fighting to put
an end to environmental crime. She works for an organization called
KenÈ, advocating for the rainforests - and the indigenous
people who live in them. The forest sciences engineer
gives them a voice in court, and isnít afraid to sue big companies.
Her work has made her many enemies. Sheís entitled to
round-the-clock police protection - but tends to go without, preferring
to keep a low profile when she travels. Tomorrow sheís set to
take a flight over an area thatís recently been
illegally cleared. The goal is to gather
evidence that can be used in court. But first Lucila Pautrat wants
to gather more information. The indigenous residents of the
village of Santa Clara de Uchunya are concerned about their rights.
A crisis meeting has been called. The village used to be
surrounded by rainforest. But then a company began felling trees
and planting oil palms in their place. The villagers took legal action. Since then theyíve been the
target of threats, says Ivan Flores. People are coming
here trying to kill us. We have to go into the forest to
hide. They come to kill us, to destroy us. Not only me, but also my family. People have already been killed
in villages that border our territory, including a village leader. Our lives are at risk - people
have been contracted to kill us. The crisis team is alarmed. At least eleven people have
been killed here in recent years. The killers and the people
they take their orders from have never been caught. Locals have no protection,
and fear for their lives. We want our lives back; our
environment, our nature, our rivers, our pristine streams, our
flora and fauna, our animals. KenÈ has taken
their case to court. We head to the rainforest
with Lucila Pautrat, who wants to see for herself
whatís happening in the village. For security reasons, the pilots
are not told the route until takeoff. There could be
informants everywhere. Itís immediately apparent that
the rainforest is disappearing. Below are us are vast expanses
of recently cleared areas. Widescale deforestation
means indigenous people no longer have wildlife to hunt. This undermines food
security among the population. Fishing is also in decline because
heavy machinery is polluting the rivers. Santa Clara de Uchunya
is located on a river. This is where Ivan
Flores comes from, and it is where seven
people were murdered. Weíre just arriving
in Santa Clara. Where the murders took place? Yes, and where indigenous
leaders are being threatened. As we can see, the entire area is
surrounded by palm oil plantations. This used to be
dense rainforest. Now all thatís here is
an oil palm monoculture. The harvests are
processed in this factory. Pautrat takes photos that can
later serve as evidence in court. Oil palms as far
as the eye can see. The plantations are
expanding year by year. All this used to be pristine forest.
The palm oil plantations are illegal. Weíre losing a huge diversity
of primary tropical forests for a business that is
simply not sustainable. It also violates the rights not
only of indigenous communities, but of all Peruvians
and all of humanity... Because it affects
the whole planet. Oil palm plantations
are not the only threat. The cocaine mafia
is expanding rapidly. There are hidden
airstrips all over the region. Journalist Ivan Brehaut
has been researching this growing industry for years.
He brings Lucila Pautrat up to date. We know the cartels exist. We
know some of them: Sinaloa in Mexico, Comando Vermelho in
Brazil, several in Colombia. They each have their own
zone; theyíre everywhere. The problem is that the Peruvian
state, at least in the last seven years, doesnít recognize thereís been
an increase in drug trafficking. According to official maps itís
restricted to two zones of the Ucayali - when in reality it's like a cancer
spreading throughout the region. Activists have long been demanding
more protection from the army. But their calls mostly
fall on deaf ears. Right now, they donít have
any good news for the locals. For 10 years they have been
defending their territory, their forests. But theyíre isolated and
abandoned by the authorities. There is no justice for them,
thereís a culture of impunity. We support them in the legal
proceedings, but it's very difficult. Lima, Peru's capital. Protection of the
rainforest and its inhabitants is enshrined in Peru's
democratic constitution. But too little is done
about violations of the law. Lucila Pautrat sends
us to Percy Castillo, Deputy for Human Rights
and People with Disability at the Ombudsmanís
Office of Peru. But all the so-called defender of
the people can do is issue warnings. The problem is the
inaction of the state, which allows criminal activity
to flourish, including murders. There is no clear framework, and
businesses are able to exploit that to make profits they
shouldnít be allowed to make. For example, the public prosecution
doesnít even have the resources to travel to the
areas in question. The police have to ask us for
help to fund their operations. Without money, without
resources, defense is impossible. In Lima, danger is ever-present. Lucila Pautrat and her colleagues
are used to getting anonymous threats. The KenÈ office in the city center
is fitted with surveillance cameras. The organizationís website
has been hacked several times. KenÈ works together with activists
who conduct undercover research on environmental crimes
and human rights violations. Lucila Pautrat persuades one of
the activists to tell us about his work. If he were to be recognized,
his life would be in danger. Unfortunately Peru has become
an increasingly unsafe country. With the right connections,
you can pay just a few dollars to have someone followed,
threatened, intimidated or even killed. It doesn't matter
who the person is. They'll look for him or her,
dig up information on them, and find out, for example, if
they support indigenous farmers. Iquitos, about a
two-hour flight from Lima, is a city in the middle
of the Peruvian rainforest - and the base of a
range of criminal activities. As usual, Lucila Pautrat is
traveling without police protection. Worried about informant, she asked
our camera team not to tell anyone in advance about the trip
and where weíre heading - which is to Tamshiyacu,
a village on the Amazon. Here in the rainforest,
logging is strictly illegal. But in 2013, a company cleared
some 2000 hectares of pristine forest. Within a short space of time, the
company established a cacao plantation. In late 2020, it was ordered by
the Peruvian Environmental Agency to pay a fine of
30 million dollars, and to immediately shut down
the plantation and restore the forest. But nothing has happened. Cacoa
production continues unabated. Lucila Pautrat wants
to see the lie of the land. Tamshiyacu is
about an hour away. The ferryman is only told at the
last minute where weíre heading. There could be
informants here too. On our way, we pass piles
of illegal tropical timber. Shortly before we arrive, Pautrat
tells the camera team to be careful. The news that weíre here
filming will spread quickly. Sheís right to be cautious. Local farmers in Tamshiyacu
are being threatened because theyíre refusing to sell any
of their land to the cacao company. Ruperto V·squez is one of the farmers. Lucila Pautrat is representing
him and his colleagues in court in Iquitos and Lima. Theyíre going
to meet to discuss the situation. This sketch made by our
colleagues shows the cacao plantation owned by the company Tamshi SAC,
along with the guard house and the road. And this is the farmersí land
that intersects with the plantation. The company wants to buy the
land marked in red from three farmers. But theyíre digging
in their heels. We make our way by tuk-tuk to
the three plots in the rainforest. We pass by the entrance to
the Tamshi cacoa plantation. We would have liked to talk
to someone from the company, but our interview request went
unanswered. In this promotional video, In this promotional video, Tamshi makes
the cacoa plantation look like a godsend - locals can earn a living
harvesting the natural product. Thereís no mention of the
large amounts of pesticides and fertilizers used
by the company. Locals take a completely
different approach to the rainforest. They leave it largely untouched, only harvesting wild fruits and
plants used for herbal medicine. Tamshi continues to pressure
farmers to sell their plots of land. Four of them are still holding
out. But they fear for their lives. When they see us bringing our
allies here, they kick into action: They photograph and film us.
They watch us, and thatís unnerving. We canít work freely. In light
of the complaints and threats, the police have advised us
to avoid being on our own, and not to spend the night here. When I arrived one morning, there
was a sign on the box over there that said, On September 16,
anyone defying us will disappear. My wife went to Lima,
and while she was gone, someone from the plantation told a
villager to find a shaman to kill her... If she died, I
might sell my land. Indigenous people and
farmers usually have little chance against powerful companies
in a country like Peru, where state corruption
is widespread. Lucilla Pautrat brings their cases to
court, and helps draw attention to them. But Tamshi has also filed lawsuits,
seeking to legitimize its activities. Despite the judicial investigations
and administrative procedures, the company is trying to get its
plantation retroactively certified and thereby legalized.
So far it has not succeeded. There are many such cases. In Peru, more than 100,000
hectares have been deforested for palm oil cultivation,
regardless of environmental regulations. But time is running out. and the threat to the rainforest's
inhabitants is growing. Ombudsman for Human
Rights Percy Castillo says the state is partly to blame. There are several
factors at play here. Thereís illegal and
thereís legal logging. There are insufficient controls, and
corruption means itís allowed to happen. There are hardly any
controls on the ground, so these activities
continue unchecked. This combination of completely
unchecked criminal activity, companies profiting from it,
and a lack of state controls, is contributing
to deforestation. Trees as far as the eye can see. The Peruvian rainforest is more
than twice the size of Germany. The best way of locating
illegally cleared areas is to search the Internet for
satellite images. These show roads and areas
that have been cleared of trees. Lucila Pautrat works closely with
Peruís environmental police force, which is responsible for
tackling this illegal activity. But there arenít enough officers
to patrol the vast rainforest. In total, we have
700 police officers. The Environmental Police work with
the directorate of special operations, which is responsible for
securing the areas in question. We carry out important
operations with it. For example, in the last two
months, we were able to identify crimes related to logging, plants and
wildlife worth some 33 million dollars. Thatís progress, but not a game-changer. Lima is a long way from the
rainforest. For Lucila Pautrat, raising awareness of
environmental crime is part of her job. La voz de la selva - the voice of
the rainforest - is based in Iquitos. The private radio station has been
reporting on the rainforest mafia for some time. Today, host Ruben
Menza is interviewing Lucila Pautrat. Pautrat takes the opportunity
to report on the latest examples of illegal logging and the
murders in Santa Clara. Ruben Menza has been following
the situation for many years. I'm frustrated. I feel powerless
because nothing changes. We as journalists have a
responsibility to cover whatís happening. We talk to people in the
rainforest, in rural areas. But the authorities who could
make a difference donít listen to us. It all comes down to corruption. The outlook here
in Peru is bleak. But people like Ruben Menza
and Lucila Pautrat refuse to give up. Shortly after we
filmed together, Lucila Pautrat tells us another four
indigenous people have been murdered - after protesting against
environmental destruction. The desire for natural
resources knows no bounds. Meanwhile, Peru continues to lose
lost more and more Amazon rainforest. Lucila Pautrat is undeterred. There are many
threats, but Iím used to it. I've been doing this work for 20
years and I'm very aware of the risks and the problems. At this
point in my life, I'm not afraid. But Pautrat would like
to see more support from the wealthy
industrialized nations where most illegally
extracted raw materials end up. The Environmental Investigation
Agency in Washington tracks environmental crimes. Once products like wood, palm oil
and cocoa end up in our supermarkets, there is no sign of the damage
incurred by their production. Itís whitewashed by
international trade and markets. What needs to happen is that supply
chains need to be made transparent so we can trace the
provenance of these products. Here in Romania, illegal logging
also occurs on a large scale. The Apuseni Mountains
in the Western Carpathians. Investigative journalist Alex
Nedea is conducting research in Europe's last virgin forests. According to the Romanian forest
administration, 40,000 cubic meters of wood have disappeared in
this area in the last 10 years. This disaster could not
happened without anyone from anyone Romanian
authorities to notice. We are talking about several thousand
of trucks full loaded with illegal wood. Which came out from the forest. And
no one notices it. Thatís impossible. For more than ten years, the journalist
has been reporting on the activities of the timber mafia.
Itís dangerous work. I have been threatened.
I have been beaten. Because we try to show
the real face of mafia. This video reveals how dangerous
this kind of investigative work can be. Why did you pull in front of
my car? This is a public road. Why are you filming the timber? We are on a public road here. I'm a journalist and
I'm allowed to film here. Get lost. Alex Nedea and environmental
activist Tiberiu Bosutar encounter this kind
of hostility all the time. Bosutar uses surveillance
cameras to collect evidence. He can then go to a
special website to check whether there are transport permits
for the timber trucks that drive by. In the last six years, heís been able to prove that thousands
of timber transports were illegal. The reaction of the police was
drastic. Iíve never been treated so badly. Iíve even been attacked by foresters.
The problems start with the authorities. The police accused me of
harassment and I had to pay a fine. The timber mafia doesn't
like investigative journalists. It took its revenge on Tiberiu
Bosutar, as this video shows. Alex Nedea has seen the footage. Come on, get undressed. What are
you doing here? Get the hell out of here. It's not okay what you're doing. A clear case of intimidation. Major foreign timber companies have
been in on the action for some time. Including the Austrian
HS Timber Group, formerly known as
Holzindustrie Schweighofer. In 2015, it was investigated
for organized crime, money laundering
and tax evasion. We're not there for the harvesting.
We don't harvest the wood ourselves. We work exclusively
with controlled suppliers. We supervise these suppliers
not only on paper, but also on site. My team, which consists of
ten people in Romania alone, are trained forest scientists
who actually go to the forest to supervise the supply
and carry out on-site controls. Just ten inspectors
monitoring logging across several thousand square
kilometers of forest. Is that really enough to
rule out illegal practices? Itís not ideal. Our vision is that at some
point it will be possible to track the timber from the
harvest to its final destination. Until then, the timber
mafia will continue. Logging is officially controlled by
the National Forest Administration, but Tiberiu Bosutar say
thatís part of the problem. In Romania, the problems start
here with the Forest Administration, because there are
people in the sector who support all the
corruption that goes on there. That same evening, he drives to
a large timber yard owned by the mafia. It's deep in the
Carpathian Mountains. Hundreds of cubic meters
of wood are stored here. Including timber from
protected primary forests. Even if you have reliable
information about the timber, the police could be collaborating
with the timber mafia. Itís corrupt. The next morning, near the city of C‚mpulung
Moldovenesc in northern Romania. Together with Tiberiu,
investigative journalist Alex Nedea and former forester Gheorghe
Oblezniuc are heading into the hills. Large ruts on the path
and damaged trees indicate that heavy equipment
has been used here. The team find trees that have
illegally chopped down everywhere. All trees that have been
cut down are given a number once they reach
a height of 1.30m. If there is no number, the tree
was chopped down illegally. This one doesnít have
an inventory number. There is nothing
on the trunk. Illegal. He calls the police. How can we help? My nameís Tiberiu Bosutar and I
would like to report illegal logging. Where? On the outskirts of Campalung. Heíd observed large amounts
of timber being transported from this section of the
forest a few weeks earlier. According to the
forest administration, the transport of only small
amounts had been approved. Former forester Gheorghe Oblezniuc
knows how the timber mafia works. I quit my job because I
didn't want to be associated with illegal criminal acts. I
was afraid of being accused too, because a lot of people were
involved with illegal logging. That's why I went to Germany
to work legally. As a field worker. Eventually the police arrive. They
document what the team have found. The information will be
forwarded to the authority that deals with
environmental crime. The logging mafia in
Romania is huge. I left it. But after that I was
bullied and harassed. They even set my house on fire. A video documents the fire. Oblezniuc is convinced that
the timber mafia was behind it. Tiberiu Bosutar has called the
forester responsible for the area. When he arrives, he
shows him what heís found. Look, thereís no marker, no inventory
number on the tree trunk at 1.30m. That means the tree
was felled illegally. Shouldn't the
forester have noticed? The foresters arenít the ones
responsible for illegal logging. The companies that
do it are responsible. I don't know anything about
illegal logging, I'm not aware of it. The forester denies any
knowledge of illegal logging. But Tiberiu Bosutar is
convinced heís in cahoots with the forest administration. Preventing this kind of
catastrophic deforestation is hard, because the whole forest
administration is involved. I know for a fact that
the forester's brother is an engineer employed
by the forest administration. Together with investigative
journalist Alex Nedea he continues his journey north.
They meet with two brothers who were beaten up when
they stood up to the timber mafia. 12 to 15 people attacked us. We were both in hospital, in a lot of pain. In the photos you can see our
many injuries, on the head and arms. They left us with
lacerations and bruises. Dumitru and Ilie own
several fish ponds. When the pondsí water supply silted
up because of all the illegal logging, they threatened to file a
complaint against the timber mafia. They paid a high price. One day when we went to our
ponds we found a five liter barrel of antifreeze lying next to it. Empty.
The fish in our ponds had been poisoned. Only a small part of
their fish farm survived. To date, the public prosecutor's
office has not responded to the brothers' complaint
against the suspected perpetrators. According to the National Institute for
Research and Development in Forestry, some 20 million cubic meters of
wood are illegally logged every year - in violation of EU directives. An infringement procedure has
been initiated against Romania. Member of the European
Parliament, Viola von Cramon says itís high time. What has been going on here for
decades is an ecological disaster. In my view, the EU should have
threatened the Romanian government much earlier, much more
decisively and more clearly, including with
financial sanctions. It should have been clear that if
the commitment for the protection of Natura 2000 sites is not respected,
then funds will also be withheld. Alex Nedeaës research shows
that 250,000 cubic meters of wood were stolen in the Apuseni
Mountains in the last 15 years. I hope that in future, my generation
and the younger generation of Romania will manage to stop this disaster,
that happens in our mountains. People like Alex Nedea and
Tiberiu Bosutar in Romania, Lucila Pautrat in Peru and
Celestine AkpoBari in Nigeria are doing what they can
to prevent such disasters - theyíre fighting to
protect the planet.
