She is one of many women who have put themselves on the frontline of defence against illegal logging and mining, wildlife trafficking and other environmental crimes. Some are exercising leadership in voluntary conservation initiatives. Others carry out often invisible work, while bearing the brunt of prejudices and inequality.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The unseen line of defence <\/h2>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWe didn\u2019t know anything about conservation,\u201d said Tapullima, of the time when her community began to think about creating a private conservation area (PCA), a government recognition that allows individuals and companies to care for their territory and become part of Peru\u2019s system of protected natural areas. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
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<\/div>In 2014, the Iwirati Natural Paradise became the first PCA located in an Indigenous community to be recognised by the state<\/a>. Since then, the families of Puerto Prado have ensured that the forest\u2019s life lives on, despite threats from illegal loggers and poachers.<\/p>\n\n\n\n There are currently 139 PCAs conserving more than 394,000 hectares in Peru, of which at least 78%<\/a> are Amazonian forest. In addition to these, other voluntary initiatives exist, such as the 168 concessions for conservation and ecotourism granted to citizens on public lands for up to 40 years, terms that can be renewed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cWe are communities, families, producer associations and ordinary people in this strand of conservation that nobody looks at and, therefore, is not valued or encouraged,\u201d says Karina Pinasco, a biologist who leads Amazon\u00eda Que Late<\/a>, a national network of 180 community and voluntary conservation initiatives, whose projects collectively cover more than 2 million hectares across Peru, and which the organisation claims helps to save the state 11 million soles (US$3 million) each year.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cWe protect territories that we want to pass on to the next generations, but we are vulnerable to greater threats because we are invisible,\u201d says Pinasco. She is also the founder of the Pucunucho PCA<\/a>, a forest that was degraded by illicit coca cultivation and which she restored alongside her mother.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The International Union for Conservation of Nature (IUCN) has warned<\/a> that these voluntary, privately led initiatives, such as PCAs and concessions, are \u201cin danger of becoming one of the \u2018lost children\u2019 of the world\u2019s protected area community\u201d as they are not fully backed and supported by governments.<\/p>\n\n\n\n In Peru, gender-related data on conservation area management is not always made available \u2013 rarely even to account for who owns the initiatives, let alone the workforce.<\/p>\n\n\n\n For Eliana Rojas, who has consulted on gender and Indigenous relations for various organisations, this gap makes women\u2019s \u201cdifferentiated management and how women contribute to conservation invisible\u201d. Women, she adds, \u201care also completely invisible in the protection mechanisms for environmental defenders.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Analysis by Di\u00e1logo Chino of data from the National Service of Natural Areas Protected by the State (Sernanp) and the National Forestry and Wildlife Service (Serfor) found that only 11%<\/a> of PCAs in Peru are under the guardianship of a woman, compared to 29% for men. The figure is much lower in concessions on public lands, where only 6.5% are headed by women.<\/p>\n\n\n\nWe protect territories that we want to pass on to the next generations, but we are vulnerable to greater threats because we are invisible<\/blockquote>Karina Pinasco, Amazon\u00eda Que Late<\/cite><\/div><\/div>\n\n\n\n