by

April 2026 /

Chronicles / Culture /

PHOTO ESSAY

We were born to defend the forest, not to watch it die!

By Alex Lucitante, A’i Kofán leader

As Indigenous youth working in community-led communications, we came together in the northern Ecuadorian Amazon to collectively  remember—and bear witness to—the impacts of colonization and oil extraction on our territories.

Eduardo Nenquimo, a Waorani youth, contemplating below a gas flare in Sucumbios, in the North Ecuadorian Amazon. 
Judy Piaguaje, from the Siekopai nation, in front of “Lago 1”, the first oil well in the North Ecuadorian Amazon. 
Magdalena Quenamá y Tamara Alvarado, both from the A’i Cofán nation, in front of petroleum infrastructure, in what was once the territory of their grandparents. 

For more than sixty years, oil extraction has brought violence and loss into our spaces, invading lands, harming families, and desecrating lands once sacred and full of life. Forests that have long sheltered, nourished and protected us and our elders are slowly dying. Lands cared for by ancestors and spirits have endured not only contamination, but the deep sorrow of losing their children.

Since the 1960s, oil exploitation has affected the populations of Sucumbíos, Orellana, and Napo in Ecuador, home to the Indigenous Cofán, Siekopai, Siona, Waorani, Kichwa, and Shuar peoples.

Storytellers from ten Amazonian Indigenous nations of Ecuador journey through gas flares, oil wells, and spill sites, exposing more than five decades of the oil industry’s impact in the country.
Donald Moncayo, from UDAPT, denounces the environmental and health impacts that continue to affect Indigenous and rural communities.

We came together because our peoples are joyful and resilient. We have learned not only to sustain ourselves, but  to move forward and build solutions. We wanted Indigenous youth from across the Ecuadorian Amazon, to truly see, smell, and experience firsthand the reality of oil extraction in the north—and to carry this truth back to their communities, strengthening our unity and resistance against exploitation and extraction. Remembering always the words of our elders and guided by our spiritual strength, we walk a path of hope.

Evidence of oil contamination at one of the sites that oil giant Chevron-Texaco claims to have remediated.

A study analyzing 50 years of oil spills in Ecuador documents severe risks to the environment, health, and food security: these include wildlife deaths and organ damage, contamination of the food chain through heavy metals bioaccumulation, soil and vegetation degradation caused by salinity, and the spread of pollutants through water systems. Affected communities show higher rates of cancer, birth defects, and psychological disorders linked to heavy metal exposure.




Of the 29.65 million acres (12 million hectares) of tropical rainforest that make up the Ecuadorian Amazon, 68% has been concessioned by the government to oil companies.

In 52 years, the Trans-Ecuadorian Oil Pipeline System (SOTE) pipeline has suffered at least 77 spills, releasing 742,041 barrels of crude oil into rivers, forests, and coastal areas.

One of the most devastating spills in recent history occurred between April 7 and 8, 2020, when the rupture of three pipelines released at least 15,800 barrels of crude oil into the Coca and Napo rivers. The spill affected 105 communities (120,000 people, including 27,000Kichwa) in Ecuador—and extended to Peru. As of 2026, legal action continues in defense of affected communities continues.

Emeregildo Criollo, a Kofán elder, shares his memory as a survivor of the first oil incursion, together with Alex Lucitante (Kofán) and Ronald Dagua (Andwa).
Dete Buesaquillo and Estuardo Nenquimo observe the oil fields in the north, amid a new oil round that threatens to expand into their territory in Pastaza Province, within Waorani territory.

This experience in the north helped open the eyes of young people, allowing them to witness—even if only for a few days—what oil extraction truly means. 

Now, as the Ecuadorian government once again moves to expand oil extraction into our territories defending our shared home is more urgent than ever. Raising our voices is no longer a choice; it is a necessity to show the world what is happening in our territories—realities that too often go unseen.

Through our words, our images, and our ways of understanding the world, communication becomes a tool of defense: a means to denounce injustice, preserve memory, and resist those who seek to impose themselves upon us.

En medio del cauce del río Aguarico, comunicadores despliegan una pancarta como un mensaje de resistencia frente al avance de la industria petrolera en sus territorios. 

Credits.
Photos by William Kano and Ezequiel Mojo. | Text by Alex Lucitante | Edited by Sophie Pinchetti and Raúl Estrada | Coordinated by Nico Kingman and Jerónimo Zúñiga.

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