He’s there, somewhere in a cage at the Kisangani Zoo. Small, alone, traumatized. Taken from his mother far too early. The forest of his origin has vanished, replaced by concrete, bars… and indifference.
This bonobo — orphaned and vulnerable — now stands at the center of a scandal that deeply calls into question the conservation policies of the Democratic Republic of Congo. While some media outlets, including Kilalopress, and civil society actors try desperately to alert the authorities, the Institut Congolais pour la Conservation de la Nature (ICCN) — the very institution tasked with protecting him — appears to have helped accelerate his captivity instead.
The case began on July 13, 2025, in Ndjale, a remote village in the Ikela territory, Tshuapa province. On that day, officers from the General Directorate of Migration (DGM) and the Congolese Armed Forces (FARDC) intercepted a man, Mr. Osongo Yeni — an unknown figure — transporting a baby bonobo in a cardboard box. The man claimed to be from Sankuru and presented an administrative document: a travel order seemingly signed by François Matala, head of the Kisangani Zoo, bearing the official ICCN stamp. According to the document, he had been authorized to transfer the animal to Kisangani as part of an official mission.
But discrepancies quickly emerged. The travel order was dated July 10, 2025, yet signed on July 9 — one day before it was supposedly issued. This suspicious haste raises doubts about the document’s authenticity. It mentions activities in the Tshopo and Sankuru provinces, while the interception took place in Tshuapa — an area not covered by the mission. It lists a mission period from July 19 to July 17 (!), an obvious chronological error. It doesn’t specify the bearer’s role or institutional affiliation.
After reviewing the case, the Ikela Local Security Council declared the document a forgery. Still, the alleged trafficker confidently presented it as legitimate and seemed unfazed by the obvious irregularities.
Instead of triggering a thorough investigation, the case took a baffling turn. On July 15, the ICCN’s Technical and Scientific Director signed an official memo validating Mr. Osongo’s (whom he mistakenly called “Osombo”) mission and endorsing the travel order despite its glaring errors. No explanation was provided about this man’s status: he is neither an ICCN staff member, nor a recognized expert, nor an official partner. Nonetheless, he was permitted to proceed, and the bonobo was sent to Kisangani.
The man was released despite the multiple inconsistencies. The animal, however, remains confined in an inadequate facility — far from any specialized center equipped to ensure its rehabilitation, medical care, and reintegration with other bonobos.
In this affair, many voices are now questioning the ICCN’s true motives. There are officially recognized and accredited sanctuaries in the country specifically designed to care for orphaned bonobos and support their gradual return to the wild. These institutions have qualified veterinarians, ethologists, and strict quarantine, care, and behavioral rehabilitation protocols.
So why wasn’t this bonobo sent to an appropriate sanctuary? Why was an under-equipped urban zoo chosen instead — in blatant disregard of national and international laws on the protection of endangered species? Why validate a blatantly flawed — even possibly forged — document and greenlight a dubious mission?
Beyond this young bonobo’s individual fate, this case exposes serious dysfunctions within the very institution meant to uphold conservation. If we can no longer chalk it up to human error, we must consider the possibility of systemic failure — or worse: active complicity in a series of questionable decisions.
This constitutes a direct violation of the DRC’s Constitution. Article 53 guarantees every citizen the right to a healthy environment. Article 56 legitimizes public whistleblowing in the face of environmental harm. By turning a blind eye to this act, the State betrays not only its commitments but also its ecological sovereignty.
To date, no national authority has spoken publicly on the matter. The bonobo remains captive in Kisangani under troubling conditions. Sources close to the case — in contact with several civil society organizations advocating for primates — are asking tough questions:
Could this be a cover-up? Could the confusion around the mission, the date discrepancies, and the lack of transparency be an attempt to sidestep official obligations? Was this hasty transfer intended to avoid legal or media scrutiny regarding the memorandum of understanding (MoU) signed between ICCN and the Indian sanctuary Vantara — a partner virtually unknown to the public and reportedly unfamiliar even to the Ministry overseeing conservation? Could this be a deliberate move to block the bonobo’s transfer to a legitimate sanctuary, potentially critical of extractive or commercial projects tied to biodiversity?
These questions remain unanswered — for now. But they must be asked, and publicly. Because beyond this small imprisoned primate, an entire system of nature protection is at stake. And in the face of silence, it’s time to make noise.
By Franck Zongwe Lukama