Speaking to Rayanne Cristine Maximo Franca, the 25-year-old indigenous youth activist from the Amazon, about a historic march, resistance, and youth empowerment

Text Sarah Hurtes

On August 19 2019, thick black clouds covered the city of São Paulo in an apocalyptic darkness. São Paulo’s black sky was a result of the amazon rainforest ravaged by tens of thousands of fires. The number of forest fires in Brazil has grown 70% since this last January over the same period last year. The rainforest most hit, several Brazilian local governments also declared a State of emergency, in addition to all flights being diverted. The plume of smoke advanced into the South American continent, also fueled by forest fires in Bolivia and Paraguay, reaching parts of Southern Brazil, Northern Argentina and Uruguay. It’s been proven that all outbreaks of fire in the Amazon are caused by human activity, mainly due to deforestation for the sake of corporate agriculture. Even though winter is the most favourable time of the year for the spread of fire in Brazil because of its drier weather, in the case of the Amazon there is no natural process that could cause wildfires. This means that all outbreaks of fire in the Amazon are caused by human activity, mainly due to deforestation for the sake of agriculture. In other words: the peak of deforestation is now being followed by a peak of wildfires. Thus, the explosion in forest fire occurrences in the Amazon is directly associated with the intensification of deforestation in the region. In the Amazon rainforest, roughly the size of a football pitch is now being cleared every single minute, according to satellite data. So far, that leads to a total of 315,686 football fields. Despite recent rapid fire alert systems put into place, President Jair Bolsonaro not only blames environmental groups for setting fires whilst downplaying their risks, he persistently attempts the Ministry for FarDesDeming - which increases agro-industrial production, destructive mining and logging practices, and is under the firm grip of lobbyists – to take control of the Amazon. As the world’s largest rainforest, the 6.7m square km Amazon region plays a crucial role in absorbing carbon dioxide emissions and stabilising temperatures. If destroyed, it would be incredibly difficult to limit global warming and save the planet. Much of the remaining forest is already owned, including by Brazil’s indigenous people. They hold 13 percent of Brazil’s land area. But as the appetite for destruction increases, the situation has sparked tensions, and in some cases violence, between Brazil’s indigenous populations and land-grabbers, who believe they have the unspoken support of Bolsonaro’s administration. Indigenous women and girls – who increasingly play outsized roles as leaders, forest managers, and economic providers – are even less likely to have recognised rights. Which is why in August, for the first time ever, tens of thousands of them took to the streets of Brazil’s capital Brasília for days to denounce Bolsonaro’s “genocidal” policies. Themed “Territory: Our body, our Spirit,” they called for unity and visibility in their strength and critical roles as human rights defenders and safeguards of the world’s lands and forests. They’ve made it clear that women are the most impacted by agribusiness, climate change, sexism, and racism. Among them was Rayanne Cristine Maximo Franca from the Amazon rainforest, whose family was receiving frequent death threats because her father had spoken out against corruption. When leaving her home at 17 to study in Brazil’s capital, she embarked on a relentless pursuit of rights and recognition for young indigenous women.

Apib Comunicação via Flickr

What sort of issues are indigenous women and girls in Brazil most affected by? Rayanne Cristine Maximo Franca: Prejudice and racism are the main problems we face, due to Brazilian society as a whole largely denying our very own existence. There is a huge struggle in recognising the existence of indigenous people in Brazil, women even more. Despite all the colonisation processes, there are indigenous populations who fight to preserve their multifaceted identities. Over the last few years, a strengthening of those identities with the purpose of cultural rescue and validation is frowned upon by many in our country who pride themselves on disliking those different from them. Besides, for young indigenous women, access to information and participation in public policy remains a challenge. How does that make you feel? Rayanne Cristine Maximo Franca: Well, there is an urgent need to move away from racism, from this direct discrimination that indigenous people face on a daily basis which has a direct impact on the younger generations. We end up feeling ashamed of speaking our own languages, of recognising ourselves as being part of a nation. That entails a series of physical, mental and spiritual health damages, which is not different from other kinds of violence. Institutionalised racism is one of the forms of the genocide perpetrated by our society and mainly by the current government. “There is an urgent need to move away from racism, from this direct discrimination that indigenous people face on a daily basis which has a direct impact on the younger generations” – Rayanne Cristine Maximo Franca Can you share a situation which affected you personally, when you felt your rights weren’t recognised? Rayanne Cristine Maximo Franca: Ever since I had to leave the Amazon rainforest and decided to study at the University of Brasília to become a nurse, I went through several situations in which, at the time, I was left so utterly unempowered that I wouldn’t even realise I was being abused. I was among 35 indigenous students out of some 22,000 students in the University. Teachers would mock people like me. One teacher even asked us why we were taking classes, that we should walk naked and remain in the forest. Once I was getting organised with a few others to take part in an indigenous rights demonstration. We used our lunch break to paint our skin with parts of the Genipapo tree, whose fruit has a gelatinous pulp which is used to make body paint. By the time our lunch break finished, I had one arm painted and still had one class to attend before leaving for the demonstration. When arriving at the lab for our theory class, I sat down and asked for the teacher’s understanding and allowance for me to wear only half of my lab-coat, leaving the one arm out because the paint wasn’t dry yet. I could feel all the other students staring at me, and most of all, the teacher’s gaze. After listening to my request, she denied it, saying that, firstly, it was not the moment for me to be painted, because it was class time, and secondly, lab-coats were a requisite – which I didn’t understand because we were only doing theory. Upon my insisting in not destroying the symbols meticulously drawn on my arm, she ordered me to get out of the room. I remember, I was barely out the door and I couldn’t contain a flow of tears. Were you able to react? Rayanne Cristine Maximo Franca: At that moment, I didn’t know how to better react. I just wept at the insensibility of a person who in an educational environment couldn’t grasp the individual needs of their students. Because for me that was not only just paint, my spirituality was represented in the form of body art which protected my body and my right to show my identity was in violation. Yet the experience was an important learning lesson, later, to be shared with other indigenous students and to make me find ways to be able to stand my ground on those premises, to empower myself about my rights and learn that discriminatory acts are to be confronted with respect and information. Some of the other indigenous students and I formed the first collective of indigenous students at the University of Brasilia and negotiated specific policies for indigenous students.

Apib Comunicação via Flickr