Kiano Milandou

I woke up before dawn, the cool morning air a welcome reprieve from the relentless heat that would come later. As I tightened my boots, memories from years ago flickered through my mind. At twenty, desperate and reckless, I hunted monkeys in the forests of Congo. The money I made from selling their meat kept my family from starving. Poverty in our village was a heavy chain, and I was just trying to break free.

Everything changed the day I was caught by a game warden. Prison was a harsh reality, a place where time moved slowly, and suffering was a constant companion. Upon my release, I was offered training as a park ranger. It felt surreal to switch sides, to move from destroyer to protector. Now, at thirty-five, my role is to guard these forests from poachers like the man I once was. Each day, I walk the line between understanding and enforcement. I know the desperation that drives someone to kill an endangered species for a few dollars.

Today, I found an old snare near a stream, cleverly concealed. Carefully, I dismantled it, feeling a grim satisfaction in undoing the harm. A young bonobo watched me, curious but cautious. For a moment, we stared at each other, and I felt a connection deeper than words. Walking back to the ranger station, the weight of my responsibilities settled on my shoulders. The fight to protect these animals is ongoing, and the threat of extinction looms ever closer. But as long as I’m here, I’ll do everything in my power to keep them safe.