JUDY WOODRUFF: The Democratic Republic of Congo is a massive country, the size of Alaska
and Texas combined. It's also home to a large part of the Congo Basin rain forest. That
is the world's second largest after the Amazon.
It is the habitat for countless species, and crucial to mitigating climate change, as it
soaks up atmospheric carbon dioxide.
One of the major threats comes from illegal and uncontrolled logging.
In partnership with the Pulitzer Center, special correspondent Monica Villamizar reports.
MONICA VILLAMIZAR: Pygmies have lived in the forests of the Democratic Republic of Congo
for generations. After five years of campaigning, the village of Lokolama became one of the
first indigenous communities in the country to be given titles to their ancestral land.
In March 2019, the whole village celebrated when more than 20,000 acres of forest was
handed over to them to sustainably manage. But the joy and dancing was short lived. Fast-forward
to today and village elder, Joseph Bonkile, says that the threat of climate change and
widespread logging is ruining that dream.
JOSEPH BONKILE, Lokolama Village Elder (through translator): We will die and lose everything.
Our children will suffer. They will die from the effects of rising temperatures and climate
change. We must protect the forest from logging.
MONICA VILLAMIZAR: The government of Congo DRC has a forest code that determines which
trees can be cut and how many, but there is little enforcement.
Despite international and national laws designed to protect the rain forest, from 2001 to 2018,
Congo DRC lost 6 percent of all the forest in the country, an area similar to the size
of Mississippi.
Congolese environmental activist Irene Wabiwa accuses logging companies of abusing the system.
IRENE WABIWA BETOKO, Greenpeace: Many companies are using fraud to legalize what is not legal.
What is happening on the ground is that these companies, they are coming, using their own
power and money. They get permits and they falsify or modify it to get more volume of
timber that they will cut.
MONICA VILLAMIZAR: So, why do you think the government is not doing more? Who is responsible
for this, and why are they not doing enough?
IRENE WABIWA BETOKO: Governance in Congo is very poor. Corruption is very high. So, when
you have power, you have money, you can do what you want in the forest sector.
MONICA VILLAMIZAR: Greenpeace has campaigned against illegal logging for many years. It
argues timber consumed globally should be traced to its origin.
Normally, a system of marks ensures that each log that is cut down is accounted for. The
marks mirror those at the stump and also have information about the location where the tree
was cut. But Greenpeace says, much of the timber leaving Congo is cut without permission
and manages to reach the final destination with counterfeit marks or permit.
We joined environmental activist Etienne Kasiraca on a fact-finding mission deep into the forest.
Many of Congo's forests are only accessible by river boat.
The reason why so many African parks have been spared of logging is because the infrastructure
is so poor that getting the timber out becomes very expensive. But this is not the case here
in this part of the DRC, because the Congo River is such a good means of transportation.
We arrived at a concession operated by the Congolese-registered Bakri Bois Corporation.
Kasiraca decided to visit the site now, as he had heard that the timber workers were
on strike, and we could enter the concession. These places are normally guarded and off-limits
to visits from environmentalists and reporters.
Licenses and paperwork are the only way to prove the timber is legal, and that loggers
are not chopping down trees that are too old, too young or endangered. But Kasiraca says
he has rarely seen a company operate with a valid license in this area.
Do you think a lot of this is going on in the Congolese forest?
ETIENNE KASIRACA, Environmental Activist (through translator): Yes, it's a major problem, not
an isolated case. In other areas, it's even worse than here. The forest is being pillaged.
No one respects the law.
MONICA VILLAMIZAR: What do you know about the paperwork this corporation has, for instance?
Do they have a license to be cutting this wood?
ETIENNE KASIRACA (through translator): They had a license to log here issued in 2018.
It was valid for that year, but has now expired, but they still continue logging regardless.
MONICA VILLAMIZAR: The logs are tied together, forming makeshift rafts and floated to the
capital, Kinshasa. This is the port of Kinkole, one of the many hubs in and around Kinshasa
used for processing rain forest timber from the Congo Basin.
Many of these trees facing the chopping block are hundreds of years old. Local authorities
check the mark on the timber to see that it corresponds with the right permit.
The log number, the owner's name or initials, the month and the log number, correct?
Barouti represents 300 small-scale loggers known as artisanal loggers. He says, on average,
people like him only cut down around 150 trees per year, while large-scale industrial loggers
cut down tens of thousands.
Under Congolese law, small-scale loggers are given a special permit to work in their local
forests. But foreign companies are using these licenses to log on an industrial scale. Next
to this port and visible from the air, there is a large timber mill operated by a Chinese
company, where hundreds of logs piled up. We were not allowed to film inside.
BAROUTI, Artisanal Logger (through translator): The Chinese logging company has pushed down
prices so much that artisanal loggers like us can't compete. We can each only afford
to float our logs down river once a year, while the Chinese company brings in two full
ferries of wood each week.
MONICA VILLAMIZAR: Widespread logging of the Congo Basin continues to go unchecked, and
this trend of deforestation is set to go on, with irreversible consequences.
For the "PBS NewsHour," I'm Monica Villamizar in the Democratic Republic of Congo.
JUDY WOODRUFF: Thank you, Monica.
And, for the record, the story was filmed before the pandemic.