杏吧原创

This article聽is聽free-to-view thanks to sponsorship from Gilead Sciences

Kasungu National Park is under siege 鈥� not just from the usual poaching, but from HIV too. Situated in central Malawi on the border with Zambia, it is the country鈥檚 second largest protected area. In recent years, intensified poaching has caused a serious decline in numbers of buffalo, elephant and other big game that wander its forests and savannah. Malawi鈥檚 parks department is doing its best to combat the poachers, but it is hard to mount patrols when your scouts are sick and dying with AIDS, or caring for ailing relatives.

Between 2000 and 2006, 17 of Kasungu鈥檚 staff died 鈥� 22 per cent of its workforce at the start of that period. Recruitment cannot keep pace: the number of staff in Malawi鈥檚 national parks system has fallen from 193 in 2000 to 176 today. It is a similar story elsewhere in Africa, as HIV tightens its grip on the continent.

Last week, at the Society for Conservation Biology鈥檚 in Port Elizabeth, South Africa, researchers and conservationists gathered to highlight how the HIV epidemic is threatening biodiversity, and to share information on how to alleviate an escalating human and environmental tragedy.

鈥淲e must understand that conservation is done by people. They do it in order to benefit from it,鈥� says Daulos Mauambeta, executive director of the Wildlife and Environmental Society of Malawi. 鈥淯nfortunately, people doing conservation in Africa are dying due to HIV/AIDS. We have to deal with this if conservation is to survive.鈥�

To talk about threats to conservation when entire communities are being decimated may seem like a case of misplaced priorities, but loss of biodiversity and the HIV epidemic are closely intertwined, and their effects conspire to keep people living in poverty. For example, researchers are now starting to document how the economic havoc wrought by AIDS can force survivors to use natural resources in unsustainable ways.

There is hope: delegates in Port Elizabeth heard about pioneering efforts to break this cycle of despair, and how conservation is helping bring healthcare to remote communities. 鈥淚t鈥檚 not just a case of maintaining our own capacities,鈥� stresses Judy Oglethorpe of conservation group WWF in Washington DC, who organised the session on HIV at the meeting.

However, those capacities are under extreme strain. Jennifer Cash, a graduate student at the University of Montana in Missoula, has surveyed conservation managers in South Africa and Zambia, asking them to rank the most serious impacts of HIV/AIDS on their work. Top of the list: loss of expertise as senior staff die. 鈥淭o train someone in wildlife management takes a long time,鈥� agrees Mauambeta. 鈥淚n Malawi, we don鈥檛 have a wildlife college. Most people are sent outside the country for training, to Tanzania and South Africa. It is very expensive.鈥�

For this reason, protecting employees is now a top priority for African conservation organisations 鈥� especially since this work may increase workers鈥� risk of infection (see 鈥�In harm鈥檚 way鈥�). Such NGOs are encouraging staff to get tested for HIV, so they can receive treatment or avoid physically demanding field work. But even among well-informed workers, it can be tough to combat the stigma of taking the test. In Malawi, Mauambeta is confronting these attitudes head on. 鈥淚f you don鈥檛 want people to talk about you, you can die,鈥� he tells his staff. 鈥淲e have good examples where people have been tested and have taken anti-retroviral drugs for 10 years.鈥�

Conservation groups are trying to roll out HIV prevention efforts into the communities they work with, but in such places stigma is even harder to overcome. The problem is particularly acute in the Caprivi region, a sliver of mostly forested land in north-east Namibia pinched between Angola, Botswana and Zambia. Desperately poor, and on a major trucking route, it is a hotspot for HIV. Tests on pregnant women in the area suggest up to 48 per cent of Caprivi鈥檚 adults carry the virus.

鈥淲e experience absenteeism, low productivity and low morale,鈥� says Velia Kurz, a former nurse who runs HIV programmes for the Namibia Association of Community-Based Natural Resource Management Support Organizations, or NACSO. Along with Namibia鈥檚 Ministry of Environment and Tourism, NACSO manages a network of 50 local conservancies across the country, under which some 300,000 Namibians are involved in efforts to preserve natural resources and make money through trophy hunting, tourist lodges and so on. 鈥淎ll of these people are affected by HIV/AIDS,鈥� says Kurz.

NACSO began trying to tackle the epidemic in Caprivi in 2004, recruiting members of the local committees that manage its conservancies to serve as 鈥減eer educators鈥�. Initially, none of the 90 educators would take an HIV test; even after a year, only 25 had done so.

While it may be an uphill struggle, ethnographic research conducted in Caprivi by Rachel DeMotts of the University of Botswana鈥檚 Okavango Research Centre suggests that conservation groups can play a key role in fighting HIV. Not only do they work full-time with communities who may rarely see a healthcare worker, they can also be better at reaching out to people who fear being labelled HIV-positive.

When DeMotts attended activities organised by local conservancies, she found that people felt able to talk about the otherwise taboo topic of AIDS. 鈥淎t a crocheting workshop, a woman can spend a fair amount of time asking questions about HIV and no one knows that鈥檚 what she鈥檚 done,鈥� she explains. Similarly, people who turn down the offer of a lift to a distant HIV testing centre from a healthcare worker may accept the same ride in a conservancy vehicle. 鈥淎s much as we hate to say this, conservation organisations offer an opportunity for people to hide what they鈥檙e doing,鈥� says DeMotts.

Beyond simple humanitarianism, conservationists have a strong imperative to slow the spread of HIV. Reports from across Africa suggest that families hit by AIDS are being forced to plunder biodiversity in order to survive. 鈥淣atural resources are the ultimate safety net when people can no longer farm,鈥� says Nancy Gelman of the , which links six US conservation organisations working on the continent.

鈥淎cross Africa, families affected by HIV are plundering biodiversity in order to survive鈥�

In addition to poaching and cutting down trees for fuel, people are over-exploiting medicinal plants in the search for affordable means of treating the diarrhoea and other diseases that take hold as HIV weakens the immune system. Most poignant among these knock-on effects is the deforestation taking place in some areas to meet the demand for coffins. 鈥淭oday, on every corner in parts of Malawi, you have a coffin workshop, each of them producing 200 to 1000 coffins a year,鈥� says Mauambeta. 鈥淭his has increased the illegal harvesting of timber, and the government does not have the capacity to stop it.鈥�

鈥淧eople are over-exploiting medicinal plants in the search for ways to treat diarrhoea and other diseases that take hold with AIDS鈥�

For the most part, information on these threats to biodiversity is anecdotal. 鈥淚t鈥檚 really difficult to get data, because it鈥檚 hard to separate out the effect of AIDS from those of things like drought and flood,鈥� says Oglethorpe. However, researchers led by Wayne Twine of the University of the Witwatersrand鈥檚 rural facility in Acornhoek, South Africa, are stepping into that gap.

They studied a series of 21 villages in an area of savannah called Agincourt, which borders South Africa鈥檚 Kruger National Park. It is part of the district of Bushbuckridge, created in the Apartheid era as a 鈥渉omeland鈥� for black people displaced from white-owned ranches or land given over to conservation. Agincourt is relatively crowded, with up to 300 people per square kilometre. Even today, 60 per cent of Bushbuckridge鈥檚 men spend most of the year away working 鈥� or chasing work 鈥� in South Africa鈥檚 mines and cities.

Existing demographic research meant Twine and his colleagues had detailed information on recent deaths, most of which were due to AIDS. The team interviewed locals who had lost a family member in the previous two years to see how it had changed their use of natural resources. The most obvious effect was an increased use of natural wood by families who can no longer afford to buy fuel. 鈥淐ollapse of the fuel wood resource hasn鈥檛 happened yet,鈥� says Twine. 鈥淲hat we do know is that because households have to take more time to gather it, wood is becoming more scarce.鈥�

Other effects were more subtle. Families that had lost a member to AIDS, rather than other causes, were more likely to report eating insects to save money. 鈥淟ocusts are now our beef,鈥� one widow told the researchers. 鈥淭he biggest impact was the loss of the breadwinner,鈥� Twine concludes. 鈥淭hat鈥檚 why AIDS, as opposed to other types of mortality, is important. It disproportionately affects the prime adult age group.鈥�

Oglethorpe hopes that last week鈥檚 session will spark more research into the links between the HIV epidemic and the exploitation of natural resources. Even more important, she suggests, are projects to help families affected by AIDS make money in environmentally sustainable ways.

In Malawi, for instance, Mauambeta鈥檚 organisation has launched projects to raise guineafowl, make honey, or produce juice from baobab and tamarind fruit. This has raised AIDS-affected families鈥� average annual income from the equivalent of just $43 to about $230. 鈥淲e have seen widows build a very good house with an iron roof and send their kids to secondary school,鈥� says Mauambeta.

In Tanzania, meanwhile, the US Agency for International Development has backed a project to help eight AIDS-affected villages on the Indian Ocean develop enterprises such as paprika cultivation and fish farming, while bringing in theatre groups to perform plays that discuss HIV and AIDS.

There have been some hiccups: one village鈥檚 attempt to raise chickens was wiped out by an outbreak of Newcastle disease. However, this year鈥檚 paprika harvest should earn each farmer about $750, says Baraka Kalangahe of the Tanzania Coastal Management Partnership in Dar es Salaam. And the plays seem to be working: the number of risky 鈥渢emporary marriages鈥� between local women and migrant fishermen is down. 鈥淭hat we can count as a step forward,鈥� Kalangahe says.

Given the scale of Africa鈥檚 AIDS crisis, however, these projects are barely scratching the surface. 鈥淭here鈥檚 a lot of good will. Where it鈥檚 fallen down has been the fund-raising,鈥� says Oglethorpe. 鈥淗ealth donors tend to think: 鈥楾hese are health funds, we don鈥檛 want to give them to conservation.鈥� Conservation organisations want to spend their scarce dollars on conservation.鈥�

To stand any chance of breaking the cycle of disease and environmental degradation, Gelman argues that health, conservation and agriculture projects need to work hand-in-hand. 鈥淎IDS is a disease that affects each and every sector,鈥� agrees Mauambeta. 鈥淭he major challenge is to get enough resources to put into these activities.鈥�