Mbuti: Congo’s Last Forest Pygmies Persist Despite Violence and Loss

The Mbuti people of northeastern Congo’s Ituri Rainforest have largely avoided external pressures to abandon traditional practices and integrate into modern society, but their way of life is continuously at risk from rebels, poachers, mining companies, and those who wish to cause them harm. Despite violence and loss, the Mbuti continue to live sustainably in the rainforest, using knowledge gathered over centuries of integration with nature.

Ituri, DR Congo. A Mbuti woman squats in the forest during a hunting outing. Matt Reichel.

Article by Robyn Huang with photography by Matt Reichel

The Mbuti live deep in the rainforests of northeast Congo

In a poetic scene of vast, vibrant green, a woman bolts past a dense tangle of shrubs in just her bare feet. Her body is swift and graceful as she moves with ease between giant, looming hardwoods that create a continuous shadow over an expansive, tropical rainforest.

At moments, she runs faster as she hears the echoing bird-like cry of her band, other women and children working with her. Her eyes are wide and alert as she focuses on every detail of her surroundings.

She locks eyes with another woman. They both grab the nearest branch and begin creating a frantic rustling noise with the leaves. A child latched onto a nearby tree branch continues to make repetitive calls across the forest.

The goal is to scare an antelope or any other small animal into a fence of long, winding nets guarded by the men in her family. Whatever they catch will be shared by the hunters and others back in their band.

These hunters are members of the Mbuti people, an indigenous central African Pygmy group native to the dense Ituri rainforests of the northeastern Democratic Republic of Congo, or DRC.

The Mbuti are nomadic hunter-gatherers who move to a different settlement every two to four weeks. They hunt and deplete an area and must move on to continue surviving. They are one of the oldest indigenous groups within DRC and are referred to by researchers as 'children of the forest.' There are an estimated 40,000 Mbuti in DRC, according to researchers.

They have largely avoided external pressures to abandon traditional practices and integrate into modern society, but their way of life is continuously at risk.

The Mbuti have no legal protection over their territory, and their food supply is threatened by deforestation, mining, forest conservation and civil unrest. They also suffer discrimination and persecution, even genocide.

In 2003, there were reports of rebel troops in Ituri, the "Effaceurs" or "Erasers", murdering the Mbuti pygmies.

First image: Ituri Province, DR Congo. Early morning mist shrouds the main dirt highway linking the Congolese cities of Kisangani and Bunia. The town of Epulu, located within the Okapi Reserve, located about half way between the two cities, is one of the main centres for Mbuti settlements. Matt Reichel.

Second Image: Tshopo Province, DR Congo. During a short stop at a roadside Bantu village along the road from Kisangani to Bafwasende, locals sell bushmeat poached from the forest. Matt Reichel.

A Strenuous Journey to Epulu

It's an exhausting 460-km one-way journey from Kisangani to the village of Epulu, where we start our journey to find a Mbuti family. The brownish-red sandy dirt road linking our two destinations is barely driveable, filled with potholes, and dried accumulated mud piles. The roughness of the road has us clutching onto our chairs with a fierce grip and shifting every few seconds to ease the discomfort spreading across every inch of our bodies.

Scenic forests and villages surround our view on both sides, but it is hard to focus with sand creeping in through the car's cracks, blown up furiously from passing trucks. Along the way, a graveyard of accumulated trucks and cars stuck in ditches creates fears and anxiety. With rain, the track becomes almost unpassable as vehicles must also traverse endless pools of water.

We make it to Epulu the following day after our car breaks down mid-way. Without the breakdown, the drive ranges from 14 to 35 hours, depending on road conditions. And, when we get there, there's still a four-hour hike deep into the bush before we will arrive at our family's dwelling in the rainforest.  

The Ituri rainforest is about 63,000 square kilometres in area and is home to the Mbuti pygmies. About one-fifth of the rainforest is a protected area under the Okapi Wildlife Reserve. The reserve is a UNESCO World Heritage site known for the highly elusive okapis – a rainforest dwelling creature recognized for its cross-resemblance to a giraffe and zebra and a tongue that can extend to its eyes. They are endangered and considered almost impossible to spot in the wild.

Despite its uniqueness, the area sees few visitors. Large-scale conflict only ended in the area around 2006, and we are the fourth and fifth visitors respectively for 2021.

Ituri, DR Congo. A Congolese park ranger from the ICCN stands guard next to a gigantic old growth tree in the Okapi Reserve. ICCN is tasked with protecting and managing this large sector of the Ituri Forest, where they work with the local Mbuti people on conservation and ecotourism initiatives. Meanwhile, they face a considerable threat from this work from poachers, mining and forestry companies and rebel movements. Matt Reichel.

Trekking into the Ituri Rainforest

Before we set out on the trek, we link up with a few Mbuti pygmies, who lead us into the forest along with a group of armed park rangers. One Mbuti locks eyes with us curiously.

He walks up to us with a slight swagger but greets us in a soft-spoken, almost barely audible voice and with a kind smile. He wears a dirty, black polo shirt and baggy shorts, with a wide-brimmed red baseball cap with 'East' in large capital letters. 

He is Shaban, the chief of the Mangubo family, with whom we will be staying. Everyone calls him Mangase. He cannot be more than 4’7. "Their average height is 4’11," explains park ranger Michel Muyakeso.

The Mbuti pygmies are known to be the smallest ethnic group in the world. Researchers cite diet limitations, environmental conditions, and low exposure to sunlight as reasons for their small stature and the continued genetic adaptation of their bodies thereof.

Shaban leads the charge into the forest. Mangase must always be at the lead of the pack. The forest is moist and humid but cool and dark at the same time. In places where the high forest canopy extends across the sky endlessly, only small rays of sunlight edge their way onto the forest floor. 

Everywhere on the path, there are fallen fruits. Some look like mini squash, where others look like forest apples. The occasional butterfly or honeybee floats whimsically across our way.

The trail is not extraordinarily difficult in incline. Still, the distance is long and requires focus to traverse small river crossings and muddy paths filled with tree roots, tangled branches and vines furled and extended across the jungle grounds. Another obstacle is safari ants -- ravenous, giant ants that bite ferociously at skin if socks are not tucked into pants carefully enough.

The path makes up a series of connected forest bush trails, almost like a highway for the forest people. If a part of the group lags slightly in speed, the front of the pack will communicate with the others using piercing whistles. As we wait for others to catch up, some of the Mbuti hang casually on trees while others sit on large leaves as if they were chairs.

Ituri, DR Congo. Children sit in front of their hut in the rainforest. The Mbuti move every few weeks to new hunting grounds as a means of keeping their lives here sustainable. Matt Reichel.

Arriving at the Mbuti Camp

After over 10 kilometres, we reach a point where one of the tribe members knocks a tree branch vigorously with another branch and a machete. "It's to let everyone know we are arriving," Mangase explains. A few minutes later, we come out of the bush into a clearing—rays of sunlight peek into an extraordinarily mystical scene.

There, out of nowhere, are ten beehive-shaped huts with a scattering of people standing and sitting around various small bonfires. Similar to Mangase and the troupe who lead us in, they are all small in stature. The children look at us with curious expressions and shy giggles.

The women are dressed in colourful fabrics, wrapped around their bodies loosely; the men are mostly in torn baggy t-shirts and shorts. The Western way of dress started about 30 years ago. Muyakeso tells us that there are still Mbuti who dress naked, or more traditionally, with bark, but they are found in more remote areas.

Mangase tells us that there are 32 people in his community, with seven being his children. A typical band will range from 15 to 60 people. Mangase's wife passed away three years ago, and he is looking for someone new.

Marriage is through a reciprocal exchange, after a blessing by parents. Men from other bands swap sisters.  Women will marry outside their group and move to their husband's band. They will get married from the age of 15 onwards.

The women and children congregate around smaller fires outside of their respective huts. They make the huts by forming a dome-shaped frame of sticks tied together with vines and covered with large dried-up palm fronds and grass. According to Mangase, it takes 10 minutes to build a shelter and chairs.

The group can make an entire settlement in around half an hour collectively. They choose their subsequent settlements based on the guidance of ancestor spirits and will build in areas where their ancestors have passed through.

Each hut houses one family. A group lives in a camp for up to a month and then abandons it as they move on to find new food sources. They also leave a camp if one of their own dies and is buried in or near their base. They are wary of lingering evil spirits.

Some of the families sit on wooden benches and little triangular-shaped chairs made from sticks. The men are mainly gathered around an immense bonfire in the centre of the camp.

Two of the men come forward to greet us and shake hands. They talk to us in their primary dialect of Kibila. They also speak Swahili and a few words of French. The brothers look identical, and they resemble Mangase. They are his two younger brothers, Ramos Bukungama and Abdaman.

Chiefs are chosen according to family lineage. If Mangase dies, one of his younger brothers will become the chief.

We ask how old they are, but according to the park rangers, the Mbuti do not track how old they are, and it is difficult to predict the age of anyone in the tribe other than newborns.

Mbuti rates of infant and child mortality are high, and many babies walk around with bloated abdomens, a sign of protein deprivation. "The life expectancy of a Mbuti at birth ranges from 15 to 55 years old," explains Muyakeso.  

They can access medicine in Epulu, but it is too expensive. They try to treat illnesses with plants, but herbal remedies only act to soothe rather than heal. They face a volume of illnesses like malaria, parasitic infections, and sleeping sickness from tsetse flies.

We sit down with Mangase and his brothers around the bonfire to learn about their way of life. They are a very relaxed group. As we speak, Mangase casually smokes a large blunt. Some of the younger Mbuti pass around cigarettes and a bong that looks like it is made from bamboo. Others pour transparent alcohol – a corn vodka – into rusty tomato paste and tuna cans to be passed around.

Marijuana is visibly a big part of their culture. They have been smoking marijuana for generations, and they believe that it makes them strong. Abdaman says that "they can walk and hunt for 20 km a day with the power of weed." They grow the marijuana or will sometimes barter bushmeat for weed.

Ituri, DR Congo. Shaban, referred to by his community as Mangase, or chief, walks with a hunting net on his head. Matt Reichel.

Ituri, DR Congo. A Mbuti hunter applies ash to his face in preparation for net hunting. Matt Reichel.

"The forest is sacred and is the source of our existence. Our ancestors lived here, they were born here, and this is their sanctuary," describes Mangase. The rainforest provides them with everything for survival – shelter, food, water, medicine and firewood.

Before they adopted Western clothing about 30 years ago for convenience and warmth, leaves and bark played a role in what they wore.

Mangase tells us that for most of the year, they engage in traditional forest hunting and gathering. During another part of the year, they live with nearby farming villagers to provide labour in exchange for outside goods and produce. In exchange for bushmeat, animal hides and honey, they will receive iron, pots, clothes and produce.

Sometimes, when hunting is difficult, they will go to the city to work as manual labourers. This is challenging as they face continuous discrimination. Congolese villagers view them as lesser individuals, and they are often subject to verbal and even physical abuse.

He explains that it is the honey season, and it is a lucrative time to collect and sell honey. The Mbuti men will use smoke to scare away bees from a hive and then jump up the trees to throw honeycomb down to women and children waiting with baskets. Men will also lift the women into the trees to collect the honey.

A Traditional Net Hunt

We are rested, so it is time to embark on a hunt or alunguma. We head frantically back onto the trail. This time, we follow a pack of five hunters hoisting bundles of nets over their heads and shoulders and carrying spears. With them are two hunting dogs and some women and children who assist with the hunt. Some of the women carry babies behind them in swaddles.

At a smaller clearing, we reach a Mbuti who has already started a fire. The ritual signifies the summoning of ancestral spirits. They use leaves to wave the fire and smoke over nets. As they do this, they call for their ancestors to "be with them and protect and help them with the hunt." The calls sound a bit like a cat's meow. Some of the members crush burnt leaves into ashes, spreading them on their cheeks and around their eyes. This is for protection, a camouflage to blind animals.

They will hunt up to 10 times a day but will only need to conduct the ceremony once. The power of the ritual lasts across 20 hunts. The Mbuti traditionally follow ancestor animism, but members will also follow different religions. They do not practice any beliefs but will associate themselves with whatever passing missionaries prescribe to them.

Under conservation rules, they are not allowed to hunt big game like elephants and okapis. They hunt wild pigs, birds, antelopes, monkeys and fish. They will also supplement their diet with ants, larvae, snails, honey, wild fruits, vegetables and roots.

Ituri, DR Congo. Men carry their hunting nets through the forest. Matt Reichel.

It's a joint exercise. Their way of life focuses on community. The men quickly unravel and fasten a series of 20 feet nets between tree branches and spread them across the forest floor, creating a fence. They will guard the nets.

The women and children then vigorously move about the bush making animal calls to scare prey into their traps. The animal calls have a bubbly echo –"oop whoop whoop oo-wah oo-wah." They will shout at each other from across the forest, banging branches when they spot a catch. Some of the children are on trees, while most women are running around the middle of the area created by the fence.

It's a patient waiting game for us as observers. We go on five hunts with, unfortunately, no success. They spotted and chased two antelopes, but the animals managed to jump through the fence. According to Muyakeso, "it's all about luck. Once, I saw them catch a group of six antelopes just as they finished setting up a fence."

They hunt for survival. They will eat part of what they hunt as a family and sell the rest to earn money. Muyakeso tells us that because "they are illiterate and cannot read currency properly, they are often swindled by villagers." Children will attend school in Epulu but it is considered far and difficult to balance against their duties within the community. Most will drop out before their teenage years.

Hunting is part of their everyday being. The only time in which they will not hunt is after dark or when there is rain.

Ituri, DR Congo. While the men set up their nets, Mbuti women and children join them on the hunt, foraging plants, berries and helping drive antelope into the nets. Matt Reichel.

Ituri, DR Congo. Mbuti hunters pose for a photo after a failed hunt in the forest. Matt Reichel.

Colourful Stories in Dances

It's evening now, and each family has a glowing fire set up in front of their respective tents where they cook and keep warm. Each family has pots of beans, rice and peanut greens stewing over their fires.

"For us, fire is power," tells Mangase. Fire is the way of life here, so the Mbuti will never allow a fire to dissipate until they move settlements. Mangase continues to sit around a bonfire, this time on an empty onion sack. He has exchanged his baseball cap for a furry leopard-spotted hat. It looks like former Congolese president Mobutu Sese Seko's hat.

Everyone continues to smoke and drink. The men light their cigarettes using the bonfire. Even some children appear to participate. Some of the men start chanting in the middle of smoking their blunts. They begin to dance. Mangase tells us that they are singing to their ancestors. One of the men uses a small traditional wooden guitar to strum a rhythmic beat. The women sing first.

No one is soft-spoken anymore. Their voices rise in repetitive chorus around the bonfire – "eh ye yeah." Women sing fiercely and beautifully in rich, high tones, all while swaying children in their arms. Their voices shine in exuberance, and their music is complex in rhythm and harmony. Their faces glow against their fire, and their vigorous movements create bouncing shadows all around the camp.

"Brothers, sisters, let's join and celebrate together," says Mangase. The women beat leaves on the fire as they gracefully twirl around in a circle. People join the chorus at various moments, and it becomes harmonious.

Ituri, DR Congo. Families gather around small bon fires outside of their huts in the evening to prepare dinner. Matt Reichel.

Ituri, DR Congo. Women dance joyously around the central bonfire while singing the “honeybee” song. Matt Reichel.

The Mbuti speak and sing reverently and lightheartedly about, and to, the forest, with the intent to awaken nature with graceful sound. Their culture and spirit are encapsulated in song and dance designed to rejoice in their forest lives.

Every song tells a different story of their existence in the most celebratory fashion. They sing Mafengi, a "honeybee" song that tells a story about their honey collection. Ramos Bukungama frantically moves around the bonfire, pounding the fire with a log and scythe, creating sparks.

This action imitates bees flying away when the Mbuti smoke them from their hives. Women brush away the sparks using a sweeping, waving motion of leaf branches. Children run from the bonfire excitedly, screaming and giggling.

The women gather in solidarity, dancing with wooden sticks to sing Amaanza, the "period" song. When a woman goes on her period, she must stay in her hut area and is not allowed to hunt. Because of this, they sing for her.

The women use the same sticks to sing and dance to Andario, a song about the war and rebels chasing them. They hold their sticks and scream collectively. Their singing is throaty and tonal, accentuated by rhythmic drumming.

Their movements are always light and swift. They dance with their knees slightly bent and the rhythm appears to pulse through every inch of their bodies.  When the women are done dancing, they call forward for the men to sing. The men sing and dance vigorously around the camp, waving and beating leave branches.

They sing and dance to give thanks for food and survival. Their song and dance reenact their daily lives or events they have experienced. Younger generations will learn who they are through singing and dancing. They will dance every night, especially when there is a full moon. The only time they do not dance is when it rains.

Ituri, DR Congo. A mother applies a mixture of ash and fruit juices to the face of her children. This henna tattooing is temporary and is used for decorative purposes. Matt Reichel.

The Period Tattoo

It is a rainy morning on our final day. On rainy days, the men and women will work on crafts, a social activity. The men will weave rope for the nets, and make anything from necklaces, belts to bows and arrows. They will core out the insides of tree seeds to make emblematic pendants.

The women paint on cloth made from tree bark using little sticks as brushes, and for paint, a mixture of charcoal and crushed sticky fruit. This is a practice called ebembe.

One of the paintings looks like a series of molecular structures. Mangase explains that it is their view of the sky through the canopies of trees. They see pockets of light peeking through the treetops, with this geometric representation reflected in their designs.

According to researchers, the paintings show how the Mbuti perceive the forest as spiritual and symbolic to their cultural existence.

The cloths are used for rituals and celebrations – festivals, weddings, funerals, infant births and puberty initiations. Young Mbuti boys are circumcised around 10 to 12 years old, and they will then be sent into the bush to be taught the ways of the forest – a "coming of age."

Ituri, DR Congo. Dressed in traditional attire using materials only from thee forest, Mbuti children preform a celebratory dance. Matt Reichel.

Ituri, DR Congo. A Mbuti girl carries a wicker basket into thee forest to gather plants. Matt Reichel.

They will paint their bodies at any time -- on themselves and their children. That morning, we asked for a painting commemorating the period song from the evening before. The ladies laugh after Muyageso translates for them what we request.

One of them picks up a brush and paints a series of lines that curl outwards, with lines extending forwards to the side. The tattoo is simple but beautiful, and it visually represents liquid flowing outwards.

As we prepare to make the long journey out of the forest back to Epulu, several children in the camp sing and dance for us. This time, the children wear spots and lines of white paint over their faces and chests.

They wear skirts made from fresh palm leaves, and they move in circular movements under the leadership of one of the leading dancers from the night before. They giggle in innocence as they follow each other and as their elders sing joyously once more to their every moment.

There is a sweet innocence to the Mangubo family. Even though they live in a setting that others may view as harsh, they live together in simple happiness and nurturing. They never take each other for granted or what they have built together as a community.

They revere and adore their forest as their guardian, and it is where they are the happiest. Despite outside influences, persecution and discrimination, they continue to thrive in ancient tradition.

As we say goodbye to Mangase, he takes a swig out of a bottle of Primus – Congo's most famous domestic beer. He smiles at us with a big grin and an almost twinkle in his eye. With a smooth song playing in the background, he continues to dance slightly, his arms slightly in the air. This is his utopia.