What do you think?
Rate this book
Empty Hands, Open Arms: The Race to Save Bonobos in the Congo and Make Conservation Go Viral
When acclaimed author Deni Béchard first learned of the last living bonobos—matriarchal great apes that are, alongside the chimpanzee, our closest relatives in the animal kingdom—he was completely astonished. How could the world possibly accept the extinction of this majestic species?
Béchard discovered one relatively small NGO, the Bonobo Conservation Initiative (BCI), which has done more to save bonobos than many far larger organizations. Based on the author’s extensive travels in the Congo and Rwanda, this book explores BCI's success, offering a powerful, truly postcolonial model of conservation. In contrast to other traditional conservation groups Béchard finds, BCI works closely with Congolese communities, addressing the underlying problems of poverty and unemployment, which lead to the hunting of bonobos. By creating jobs and building schools, they gradually change the conditions that lead to the eradication of the bonobos.
This struggle is far from easy. Devastated by the worst military conflict since World War II, the Congo and its forests continue to be destroyed by aggressive logging and mining. Béchard's fascinating and moving account—filled with portraits of the extraordinary individuals and communities who make it all happen offers a rich example of how international conservation must be reinvented before it's too late.
Béchard discovered one relatively small NGO, the Bonobo Conservation Initiative (BCI), which has done more to save bonobos than many far larger organizations. Based on the author’s extensive travels in the Congo and Rwanda, this book explores BCI's success, offering a powerful, truly postcolonial model of conservation. In contrast to other traditional conservation groups Béchard finds, BCI works closely with Congolese communities, addressing the underlying problems of poverty and unemployment, which lead to the hunting of bonobos. By creating jobs and building schools, they gradually change the conditions that lead to the eradication of the bonobos.
This struggle is far from easy. Devastated by the worst military conflict since World War II, the Congo and its forests continue to be destroyed by aggressive logging and mining. Béchard's fascinating and moving account—filled with portraits of the extraordinary individuals and communities who make it all happen offers a rich example of how international conservation must be reinvented before it's too late.
- GenresNonfictionAnimalsAfrica
320 pages, Hardcover
First published October 1, 2013
4 people are currently reading
315 people want to read
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 14 of 14 reviews
August 14, 2015
For those who are genuinely interested in reading this book, bare with my lengthy review for the good details. I enjoy elaborating on my reading experience, almost as a keepsake. My own story involving this book—at least in my own eyes—is rather interesting. Anyway, I'm mostly under the impression that no one will ever read my reviews. This is a relatively unknown book though, and on the off chance this review makes an appearance on the book's Good Reads page, I want any single potential reader to know that I'm undertaking this supportive review with the utmost sincerity.
Here's the thing about my ratings of books on Good Reads: they're completely subjective. Upon my first reading of the book, I'm usually not analyzing the writing too critically; I choose books with the impression that it's written by someone who knows what they're doing. I usually just go with my gut, basing the rating on how it affected me mentally and emotionally, how reluctant I was to put it down, how much I'm interested in picking up another book by that author, etc. I'm giving this book a five-star rating because I believe it's one of the most important books ever written.
I was introduced to Deni Bechard (I'm not going to use the accents on his name when I don't know how to do so appropriately) when I attended the AWP conference that was hosted in Minneapolis during April of this year. I was the president of the Creative Writing Club during the 2014-2015 academic year at Anoka-Ramsey Community College (ARCC). With the help of a couple of my professors, I was able to receive funding from the student government to attend this conference—the largest annual national conference for writers, hosted in my home state once every couple of decades—along with a handful of other writing students. I spent most of my time there alone, wandering the book fair and sitting in on the panels that I thought seemed interesting. Since I'll be transferring to Hamline University in the fall to further pursue my dream of being a writer, I've been looking at doing internships at one of the local publishing houses in the Twin Cities. Minneapolis and St. Paul, for those that aren't aware, are big into cultivating the arts. One of the premiere independent publishing houses in the Twin Cities is Milkweed Editions, or so I'd been told during my studies at ARCC. Naturally, this drew my interest. After semi-stalking the Managing Director, Patrick Thomas, at Milkweed's booth at the book fair in an attempt to become a bit more familiar—I'd met him once on a class field trip that toured the Loft Literary Center, which is in the same building as Milkweed Editions—I learned that there was to be a panel celebrating Milkweed's 35th anniversary.
All of the speaker's were fascinating in their own right, but I'll cut to the highlight of the panel—Bechard—for brevity's sake. Along with his shaggy, dark-blonde hair, hard-lined jaw, and athletic stature, there was a charisma emanating off his person that was doubled by the intellect I perceived solely from hearing him speak. He praised Milkweed for giving him the opportunity to pursue his unorthodox artistic endeavors—his three published works include a memoir detailing his upbringing by a bank-robbing father, a fictional account of a family of giants and dwarves, and a travel book about bonobos and conservation in the Congo—that just wouldn't be feasible with a commercial press on the coasts. I learned about Bechard's travels in over fifty countries, and was instantly transfixed with everything the man represented. He looked a bit like a 21st century Jesus, his muscular frame slouched over the podium, man-hands clutching the sides.
After the panel, I made my way back to the book fair and to Milkweed's booth, where Bechard was signing books. I bought his most recent publication, Empty Hands, Open Arms—the one about bonobos—and waited in a small line to have it signed. Before hearing Bechard speak, I didn't even know what a bonobo—the creature most genetically identical to human beings at over 98.5%—was, but I was intrigued by their matriarchal society; the ability of female bonobos to root out males aggression. I'd also taken an environmental science course at ARCC, and had become interested in writing about climate change from a very post-modern and fantastical perspective. When it was my turn to receive an autograph from this author that I'd been suddenly intrigued by, we had a brief conversation. I'd felt in over my head for most of the weekend that the conference took place, walking around by myself and trying my hardest not to look out of place. I was bashful while speaking with Bechard, a well-traveled writer whose taken steps to helping the world—someone trying to make an actual difference. Being in the presence of that type of person makes an aspiring fantasy writer see himself as he truly is: a 20-year-old community college student who still lives with his parents and isn't self-sufficient in many senses of the word. Though Bechard was polite, searching my nametag before signing my new copy of his book. He even asked what I wanted to write. I told him about a fantasy project I was attempting—a tale about pollution, exploitation, and conservation in its own right. I explained about the environmental science course, but said that I was still pretty naïve about the whole issue of climate change.
He pointed at the book he'd just signed, said something along the lines of: "This here's a good place to start."
And start it I would, though not for a few months, towards the end of my frantic summer of reading. Being a lover of fiction as well as an addicted book-buyer, there were just too many good novels calling my name—as well as my studies at the end of the spring semester—and Empty Hands, Open Arms was placed atop my bookshelf, where I knew I would eventually return to it. In retrospect, I'm slightly ashamed I didn't devour it immediately. This here is a classic example of Western urgency: I was aware of the issues this world faces, and I see literature as an avenue to make the world a better place, but even my taste in books and sense of immediate-gratification delayed my reading this all-important book. The events of and leading up to the AWP conference were almost mystical for me; one of those times in life when I could practically feel destiny pressing down on my shoulders. And yet, as soon as it was over, I'd fallen back into the scope of my everyday life and my first-world problems.
I know I'm not alone in my tendency to ignore the facts of climate change on a subconscious level. It's a cultural issue, one of the many topics that is touched on in Bechard's book. Looking the issues that the human race has created for the world can be a daunting task. For me it gets to be disheartening, making me feel like life on Earth is some cosmic joke spanning millions—perhaps billions—of years. It's also became clear to me that a vast majority of the world isn't educated on the full scale of the issues we face. Like me before attending Milkweed's panel, all my friends and family that I ask are unaware that bonobos even exist. The 2007 edition of Microsoft Word that I'm currently typing on didn't even contain the word 'bonobo' in its lexicon. That alone shows the extremity of the uneducated populace. The point that I'm trying to make—a similar point that Bechard makes in his book—is that before we can help in the conservation efforts that will benefit all forms of life on Earth, we need to be aware of them.
Empty Hand, Open Arms covers a lot of ground. Bechard gives readers a global history lesson spanning back almost fifty million years, accounting for the breaking apart of Pangaea and the subsequent settling of the continents as they are today. Theories of evolution are discussed, focusing on the common ancestor between human beings and great apes and how the changing geography and fluctuating competition for resources may have accounted for the division into different species. The rainforest discussed in eye opening ways; how it is a crucial balance for life on Earth and how rapidly the Western culture of comfort and consumerism is depleting is. The sad and bloody history of the Congo is given to us, detailing the long years of exploitation that began in the colonial era with Belgium and which have seemingly expanded to nameless countries—Western countries with foreign interests and bordering countries like Rwanda that steal away the nation's mineral wealth. The tribal culture of the Congo natives is described, as well as how conservation efforts can be more effective if they follow the model of the Bonobo Conservative Initiative (BCI). Their model involves the local populations of the endangered areas instead of attempting to displace them. Bechard explains to great depths how giving the local people an economic incentive that can appeal to their culture and traditions can create a more stable future for all conservation efforts. It's also brought to light that competing interests among different conservation efforts and organizations can cause more harm than good.
Of course, bonobos are the heart and soul of this book, and they are an absolute joy to learn about. While they're not suited to actually speak, bonobos can be taught to understand human speech, and even to communicate with humans in a number of ways. They are sentient creatures, able to think and feel in very human ways. As stated previously, they are a matriarchal society, with females eradicating male aggression by either ganging up on the aggressors or by refusing to have sex with them. Bonobos are the only great apes that have sex for reasons other than reproduction, much like humans. Though bonobos differ from human beings—and all other great apes—in a very big way: bonobos live peacefully among one another, sharing resources and resolving conflicts in nonviolent ways. One of the main points that Bechard emphasizes throughout Empty Hands, Open Arms is that we can lead better lives if we, as a species, follow the example of the bonobos.
At a time when the world is changing so dramatically, when the very balance of life is in human hands, the American public needs to be informed about the consequences of the lives we lead. The culture we've been born and bred to has led us to waste and excess. It's simple, really: the world would be a better place if everyone were to read this book. Closing up at just over eighteen hundred words, I hope that this review inspires at least one person to read it.
Here's the thing about my ratings of books on Good Reads: they're completely subjective. Upon my first reading of the book, I'm usually not analyzing the writing too critically; I choose books with the impression that it's written by someone who knows what they're doing. I usually just go with my gut, basing the rating on how it affected me mentally and emotionally, how reluctant I was to put it down, how much I'm interested in picking up another book by that author, etc. I'm giving this book a five-star rating because I believe it's one of the most important books ever written.
I was introduced to Deni Bechard (I'm not going to use the accents on his name when I don't know how to do so appropriately) when I attended the AWP conference that was hosted in Minneapolis during April of this year. I was the president of the Creative Writing Club during the 2014-2015 academic year at Anoka-Ramsey Community College (ARCC). With the help of a couple of my professors, I was able to receive funding from the student government to attend this conference—the largest annual national conference for writers, hosted in my home state once every couple of decades—along with a handful of other writing students. I spent most of my time there alone, wandering the book fair and sitting in on the panels that I thought seemed interesting. Since I'll be transferring to Hamline University in the fall to further pursue my dream of being a writer, I've been looking at doing internships at one of the local publishing houses in the Twin Cities. Minneapolis and St. Paul, for those that aren't aware, are big into cultivating the arts. One of the premiere independent publishing houses in the Twin Cities is Milkweed Editions, or so I'd been told during my studies at ARCC. Naturally, this drew my interest. After semi-stalking the Managing Director, Patrick Thomas, at Milkweed's booth at the book fair in an attempt to become a bit more familiar—I'd met him once on a class field trip that toured the Loft Literary Center, which is in the same building as Milkweed Editions—I learned that there was to be a panel celebrating Milkweed's 35th anniversary.
All of the speaker's were fascinating in their own right, but I'll cut to the highlight of the panel—Bechard—for brevity's sake. Along with his shaggy, dark-blonde hair, hard-lined jaw, and athletic stature, there was a charisma emanating off his person that was doubled by the intellect I perceived solely from hearing him speak. He praised Milkweed for giving him the opportunity to pursue his unorthodox artistic endeavors—his three published works include a memoir detailing his upbringing by a bank-robbing father, a fictional account of a family of giants and dwarves, and a travel book about bonobos and conservation in the Congo—that just wouldn't be feasible with a commercial press on the coasts. I learned about Bechard's travels in over fifty countries, and was instantly transfixed with everything the man represented. He looked a bit like a 21st century Jesus, his muscular frame slouched over the podium, man-hands clutching the sides.
After the panel, I made my way back to the book fair and to Milkweed's booth, where Bechard was signing books. I bought his most recent publication, Empty Hands, Open Arms—the one about bonobos—and waited in a small line to have it signed. Before hearing Bechard speak, I didn't even know what a bonobo—the creature most genetically identical to human beings at over 98.5%—was, but I was intrigued by their matriarchal society; the ability of female bonobos to root out males aggression. I'd also taken an environmental science course at ARCC, and had become interested in writing about climate change from a very post-modern and fantastical perspective. When it was my turn to receive an autograph from this author that I'd been suddenly intrigued by, we had a brief conversation. I'd felt in over my head for most of the weekend that the conference took place, walking around by myself and trying my hardest not to look out of place. I was bashful while speaking with Bechard, a well-traveled writer whose taken steps to helping the world—someone trying to make an actual difference. Being in the presence of that type of person makes an aspiring fantasy writer see himself as he truly is: a 20-year-old community college student who still lives with his parents and isn't self-sufficient in many senses of the word. Though Bechard was polite, searching my nametag before signing my new copy of his book. He even asked what I wanted to write. I told him about a fantasy project I was attempting—a tale about pollution, exploitation, and conservation in its own right. I explained about the environmental science course, but said that I was still pretty naïve about the whole issue of climate change.
He pointed at the book he'd just signed, said something along the lines of: "This here's a good place to start."
And start it I would, though not for a few months, towards the end of my frantic summer of reading. Being a lover of fiction as well as an addicted book-buyer, there were just too many good novels calling my name—as well as my studies at the end of the spring semester—and Empty Hands, Open Arms was placed atop my bookshelf, where I knew I would eventually return to it. In retrospect, I'm slightly ashamed I didn't devour it immediately. This here is a classic example of Western urgency: I was aware of the issues this world faces, and I see literature as an avenue to make the world a better place, but even my taste in books and sense of immediate-gratification delayed my reading this all-important book. The events of and leading up to the AWP conference were almost mystical for me; one of those times in life when I could practically feel destiny pressing down on my shoulders. And yet, as soon as it was over, I'd fallen back into the scope of my everyday life and my first-world problems.
I know I'm not alone in my tendency to ignore the facts of climate change on a subconscious level. It's a cultural issue, one of the many topics that is touched on in Bechard's book. Looking the issues that the human race has created for the world can be a daunting task. For me it gets to be disheartening, making me feel like life on Earth is some cosmic joke spanning millions—perhaps billions—of years. It's also became clear to me that a vast majority of the world isn't educated on the full scale of the issues we face. Like me before attending Milkweed's panel, all my friends and family that I ask are unaware that bonobos even exist. The 2007 edition of Microsoft Word that I'm currently typing on didn't even contain the word 'bonobo' in its lexicon. That alone shows the extremity of the uneducated populace. The point that I'm trying to make—a similar point that Bechard makes in his book—is that before we can help in the conservation efforts that will benefit all forms of life on Earth, we need to be aware of them.
Empty Hand, Open Arms covers a lot of ground. Bechard gives readers a global history lesson spanning back almost fifty million years, accounting for the breaking apart of Pangaea and the subsequent settling of the continents as they are today. Theories of evolution are discussed, focusing on the common ancestor between human beings and great apes and how the changing geography and fluctuating competition for resources may have accounted for the division into different species. The rainforest discussed in eye opening ways; how it is a crucial balance for life on Earth and how rapidly the Western culture of comfort and consumerism is depleting is. The sad and bloody history of the Congo is given to us, detailing the long years of exploitation that began in the colonial era with Belgium and which have seemingly expanded to nameless countries—Western countries with foreign interests and bordering countries like Rwanda that steal away the nation's mineral wealth. The tribal culture of the Congo natives is described, as well as how conservation efforts can be more effective if they follow the model of the Bonobo Conservative Initiative (BCI). Their model involves the local populations of the endangered areas instead of attempting to displace them. Bechard explains to great depths how giving the local people an economic incentive that can appeal to their culture and traditions can create a more stable future for all conservation efforts. It's also brought to light that competing interests among different conservation efforts and organizations can cause more harm than good.
Of course, bonobos are the heart and soul of this book, and they are an absolute joy to learn about. While they're not suited to actually speak, bonobos can be taught to understand human speech, and even to communicate with humans in a number of ways. They are sentient creatures, able to think and feel in very human ways. As stated previously, they are a matriarchal society, with females eradicating male aggression by either ganging up on the aggressors or by refusing to have sex with them. Bonobos are the only great apes that have sex for reasons other than reproduction, much like humans. Though bonobos differ from human beings—and all other great apes—in a very big way: bonobos live peacefully among one another, sharing resources and resolving conflicts in nonviolent ways. One of the main points that Bechard emphasizes throughout Empty Hands, Open Arms is that we can lead better lives if we, as a species, follow the example of the bonobos.
At a time when the world is changing so dramatically, when the very balance of life is in human hands, the American public needs to be informed about the consequences of the lives we lead. The culture we've been born and bred to has led us to waste and excess. It's simple, really: the world would be a better place if everyone were to read this book. Closing up at just over eighteen hundred words, I hope that this review inspires at least one person to read it.
February 1, 2014
I can't read any more doom and gloom books. I believe that as a civilization we are heading in a good direction, and this is a book of that in fact. This is a story about passionate people doing good work in the Congo, helping save the peaceful bonobo apes, while saving the people - and our planet along the way!
It's a win-win book that brings the truth about life down to simplicity. As we save the gentle creatures, we are saving ourselves. This is a group that is doing just that - against all odds.
It reads like an adventure novel and is a beautiful human drama - with these amazing little-known bonobo apes embracing it all.
It's a win-win book that brings the truth about life down to simplicity. As we save the gentle creatures, we are saving ourselves. This is a group that is doing just that - against all odds.
It reads like an adventure novel and is a beautiful human drama - with these amazing little-known bonobo apes embracing it all.
October 1, 2013
I thought this book was amazing. If I did not "win" this novel from the giveaways I may have never opened it up. This has been one of the best books I have read. It was an eye opening view of the congo and what really happens. It was well put togehter and very moving. I went from just knowing that the Congo was a land that has a ton of issues, even thought it was not always like that. After readying the novel I want to get more involved in protecting them.
September 20, 2013
I won this book on the giveaway first reads. This book is very compelling and inspirational. It chronicles Mr. Bechards work with the endangered bonobo.
September 21, 2013
Fascinating journey to the Congo, a bonobo reserve and community-based conservation initiatives.
November 21, 2023
Perhaps I misunderstood what this was about: I expected it to be about the Bonobos and the work that the NGO was doing for them using that as a springboard to speak about preserving the rain forest habitat. Instead, I found it to be all about the tumultuous history of the country, evolution and the need to preserve the rain forest with a passing mention or two of the bonobos who make the rain forest of DRC their home. Before anyone slings hate reactions to this review, I'm *not* saying that the rain forest shouldn't be preserved. I'm only saying that it wasn't at all what I expected and I gave up about halfway through.
August 17, 2017
I was looking forward to this book, but being an animal lover rather than a geopolitical nerd, I felt it was bogged down by the historical and political descriptions of issues within the DRC. While these political issues do inform the success of animal conservation, the lengthy passages were difficult for me to follow and made the book unenjoyable.
June 16, 2015
Set in the Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC), it traces the author's journey with founders of the Bonobo Conservation Institute (BCI) as they introduce him to the ever-decreasing population of bonobos endemic to the rainforests. This book is less about the interactions with bonobos, and more about the network and community of people ravaged by harsh years of colonialism, exploitation, corruption and extreme poverty. People who have over the years been betrayed by foreigners and hence are skeptical of them.
This book was enlightening and educational. It tells of how the BCI is actually deeply entwined with Congo's politics, introduces readers to the history of the area, and about the lives of the people. In 1960, there was a CIA-sponsored coup which made the people highly suspicious of all foreigners who entered their territory. Everyone was thought of as a CIA agent. This meant great struggle for the BCI to take shape as everyone was wary and unwilling to extend help.
There was a particular section that made me think. The author looked back at past attempts by traditional conservation groups to gain support among tribal members to conserve the bonobos. Those often involved members giving out resources in exchange for agreement to the schemes. Such methods are very short-term, as the saying goes, "Give a man a fish and he'll live for a day, teach a man how to fish and he'll live for a 100 days", buying support isn't sustainable.
This was a book that I enjoyed immensely. The descriptions were apt and there was a right balance between statistics, story and reflection. The interviews with tribes and their contributions to the conservation project really highlight that being poor isn't a valid reason to be ignorant towards the imminent extinction of bonobos. If the Congolese can do it, why can't we do our part too? As mentioned on the cover, it is only through collaboration that we can make conservation go viral.
This book was enlightening and educational. It tells of how the BCI is actually deeply entwined with Congo's politics, introduces readers to the history of the area, and about the lives of the people. In 1960, there was a CIA-sponsored coup which made the people highly suspicious of all foreigners who entered their territory. Everyone was thought of as a CIA agent. This meant great struggle for the BCI to take shape as everyone was wary and unwilling to extend help.
There was a particular section that made me think. The author looked back at past attempts by traditional conservation groups to gain support among tribal members to conserve the bonobos. Those often involved members giving out resources in exchange for agreement to the schemes. Such methods are very short-term, as the saying goes, "Give a man a fish and he'll live for a day, teach a man how to fish and he'll live for a 100 days", buying support isn't sustainable.
This was a book that I enjoyed immensely. The descriptions were apt and there was a right balance between statistics, story and reflection. The interviews with tribes and their contributions to the conservation project really highlight that being poor isn't a valid reason to be ignorant towards the imminent extinction of bonobos. If the Congolese can do it, why can't we do our part too? As mentioned on the cover, it is only through collaboration that we can make conservation go viral.
November 3, 2013
This is a great book! Well-written and engaging, Bechard does a fantastic job of setting the scene - describing the bonobos' evolution, the geography of the area, and the geo-political wrangling that has led to the current situation.
His descriptions of the conservationists, the region, and the people of the region are fascinating. He explains how the Bonobo Conservation Initiative (BCI) has been able to achieve significant conservation with minimal resources. He points out how their work honors and involves the people of the region. They are working diligently to better the lives of all the region's inhabitants - human, bonobo, and others - while promoting conservation that will benefit the whole world. Their methods provide an excellent model for effective conservation world-wide.
BCI has been instrumental in establishing reserves the size of Massachusetts and Rhode Island. It is hard to imagine all the good they could do with solid backing. I hope this book brings them a lot of well deserved attention. I believe they truly could make conservation "go viral."
His descriptions of the conservationists, the region, and the people of the region are fascinating. He explains how the Bonobo Conservation Initiative (BCI) has been able to achieve significant conservation with minimal resources. He points out how their work honors and involves the people of the region. They are working diligently to better the lives of all the region's inhabitants - human, bonobo, and others - while promoting conservation that will benefit the whole world. Their methods provide an excellent model for effective conservation world-wide.
BCI has been instrumental in establishing reserves the size of Massachusetts and Rhode Island. It is hard to imagine all the good they could do with solid backing. I hope this book brings them a lot of well deserved attention. I believe they truly could make conservation "go viral."
March 31, 2014
This books is a lot of things. It's a thrilling travel memoir of a man's trip to the Democratic Republic of the Congo. It's an informative piece of nature writing about bonobos and the African jungle. It's an enlightening historical record about the region's wars and conflicts. It's an indictment of NGOs and scientists who care more about prestige and money than they do about conservation. It's a love letter to the Bonobo Conservation Initiative (BCI). It's an exploration of the different cultures in the DRC, including bonobo culture. Above all, it's an extremely well done book. The science is informative without being inaccessible, the portraits of the people are well-rounded, the research is meticulous, and it's also an entertaining read. I picked this book up because of my interest in bonobos, but if you care about history, conservation, Africa, other cultures, science, or travel, there's something in here for you.
Full disclosure: I donate money to BCI. Full full disclosure: I was convinced to start doing so after reading this book.
Full disclosure: I donate money to BCI. Full full disclosure: I was convinced to start doing so after reading this book.
October 16, 2013
Author writes about bonobos,(great apes) our closest relative, and its disappearance along with the rainforest that they live in. Tells us the struggle to prevent the extinction is not easy. Author tells us of the Congo and what is happening. Tells us of conservation efforts that are being made. This is the best book I have read on the great apes and the shrinking of the rainforest so far. I highly recommend this book. Great writer.
August 13, 2016
I really enjoyed this book. Bechard is an excellent writer and weaves together well-researched narrative with emotionally engaging stories very well. Surprisingly, this is a hard book to put down. I highly recommend it to anyone interested in how conservation can succeed in the 21st century.
March 14, 2014
How overpopulation, poverty and institutional corruption make conservation in the Congo so hard. It all comes down to tremendous individual effort, persuading naturally self and family concerned people, often having seen only one way, stuck in their own perspective
March 30, 2014
Very thought-provoking read! I learned a lot about the DRC and a bit about Africa.
Displaying 1 - 14 of 14 reviews