One of Africa’s most important national parks, home to three subspecies of threatened great apes, is caught up in the DRC’s endless war, writes ROB CRILLY in Virunga National Park

KARONKANO BASEKA throws his arms in one direction then the other as he points out landmarks in what should be a haven for wildlife.

“From Rwindi to Kibati, that is all rebel territory of the CNDP ,” he says pointing towards the north and swinging his hand south, sweeping his arm over thousands of acres of lush, tropical forest from his vantage point high in the volcanic hills of Virunga National Park.

“Beyond Kanyabayongo it’s the government. And over there it’s the Mai Mai militias.”

Baseka is a ranger in Africa’s oldest national park, home to three species of threatened great ape. He should be pointing out the territory of the critically endangered mountain gorilla or the range of the bizarre okapi – a close relative of the giraffe found only in the Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC). Instead he and his colleagues have spent years keeping the DRC’s ceaseless war from the boundaries of the park and its precious inhabitants.

They have been hemmed in by militias on all sides. A month ago they lost their headquarters. Advancing rebels captured swathes of forest, forcing more than 200 rangers to flee.

Elsewhere the offensive by Tutsi CNDP rebels, loyal to Gen Laurent Nkunda, has put 250,000 people on the road seeking refuge from the violence.

Scores of women have been raped by marauding soldiers on either side, and aid agencies are warning of a cholera outbreak as the rainy season begins.

For more than a fortnight Dusabimana John was forced to live in a stinking camp for people displaced by fighting in the latest flare-up in the DRC. Like hundreds of thousands of others he sheltered from tropical rainstorms under plastic sheeting and ate food distributed by aid agencies. Unlike the others, the ranger from Virunga National Park was as concerned about the animals he had left behind as he was the humans around him.

“I was worried about the gorillas and elephants,” he said, standing amid ammunition discarded by rebels at the park headquarters in Rumangabo. “That’s why I came back. I found myself thinking about them every day.

“In the war, gorillas have been killed. If we are not here then no one can stop them being killed.”

Rangers such as John are the only thing keeping the war from destroying Africa’s oldest and most important national park.

Virunga is one the last homes of the endangered mountain gorilla. Almost a third of the 700 left in the world live within the shady forest.

Chimpanzees and lowland gorillas as well as 2,000 varieties of plants and more than 700 bird species can be found among the volcanic hills, which are often shrouded in mist.

But the forest affords little protection from the fighting. One sector is the hideout of Hutu militias who fled Rwanda at the end of the genocide. Another sector – where the gorillas live – has been under the control of Tutsi rebels for the past year.

And this past week has seen a fresh wave of violence turning the forest into a war zone. Further north in the park the rebels seized government positions and ranger stations in a rapid advance.

Some 240 rangers have been forced out of the park. Some had to survive for days on berries and water from puddles as they marched towards safety.

At the end of the week comes a glimmer of hope. Rebels have allowed rangers back into the gorilla sector for the first time in over a year.

Emmanuel de Merode, director of the park, drove for four hours through military checkpoints into the heart of rebel-held territory on Tuesday to negotiate their return.

“It was just a question of explaining clearly that it’s a world heritage site of global significance and the park authority has got to continue its work,” he says, playing down any risk to his own safety. “It’s a huge breakthrough for us because we haven’t been able to get into the gorilla sector.”

The first rangers found a shell of a building where their headquarters had been. Rebels had carted off most of the furniture and left behind three mortar rounds amid a jumble of park papers scattered on the floor.

Today, the first rangers were due to begin tracking the apes as the first step in a census. An estimated 200 live in the park but the truth is that no one knows what toll the war has taken on its primate inhabitants in the past months.

Last year eight gorillas were killed by poachers or executed by armed gangs who control the illegal $30 million (€23 million) charcoal industry that operates in and around the park. A baby gorilla was found dead in a neighbouring village, probably part of a failed attempt to sell it to animal dealers.

Hundreds of hippos were killed two years ago as government-allied Mai Mai militia went hunting for meat and ivory.

“It’s the presence of all these armed groups, the chaos and people who simply need to make a living, that’s destroying the park along with a future for tourism and conservation here,” says Merode.

The roots of the DRC’s misery lie in neighbouring Rwanda’s genocide of 1994. The Hutu militias responsible for the worst of the bloodshed went to ground in the DRC’s dense tropical jungle. They now control swathes of jungle that are being destroyed for charcoal.

Gen Nkunda’s rebel army claims to be protecting Tutsis from the Rwandan Hutus.

The region’s abundant seams of minerals, and its charcoal forests, provide rich incentive for a dozen or so more militias to keep conflict simmering and the local population in squalid camps.

The situation has taken a heavy toll on the rangers. Some 120 have been killed since the region was plunged into civil war more than a decade ago.

Now they are returning to continue their crucial work.

“When the fighting came here we knew we had to leave to protect our families and go to safety in Goma,” says Baseka, who returned this week, speaking in Swahili.

“We cannot leave this place unprotected, because there is danger all around and without us there will be no forest. If there is no forest there can be no gorillas.”