My husband was killed for exposing the Amazon’s plunder. But his work lives on | Alessandra Sampaio

Read More

It’s been a year since my life changed dramatically with a phone call from a journalist friend telling me Dom had gone missing in the Javari valley. I could tell from the worry in his voice that it was unlikely Dom was still alive.

Dom and I both knew his research into criminal acts against the rainforest and its defenders might one day put him at risk. But we never believed it would actually happen. Dom followed strict safety protocols and was very careful and focused on the details of his trips, organising the itineraries and sending me all the information, as well as contacts.

The search for Dom and Bruno was agonising. My greatest fear was that their bodies would never be found. I prayed with all of my faith that they would be recovered so we could move forward and be able to grieve.

My memory of that period is hazy. There’s so much I’ve simply forgotten. Coping with such immense demands was intense and painful and I couldn’t keep up. My sister was such a great help when she travelled from her city and came to my house. She filtered all of the calls from relatives, friends and the press, speaking on my behalf. She kept me updated on the latest news and helped me record videos and messages.

The simple life and plans for the future I’d had with Dom were over, and with every interview or conversation I absorbed the extent of the loss.

Once their bodies were found, thanks to the essential work of the Indigenous search teams, I tried to focus on the next stage: the search for justice.

People have asked me what kind of justice I am seeking.

First of all, I want to see the people who did this – the killers and the masterminds – judged according to the law. Given the investigations, it’s possible to imagine them being convicted. Their conviction would send a powerful message to the criminal organisations which operate in the region, convinced of their impunity.

But despite the repercussions of the case and the recent change of government in Brazil, which brings me hope, violence, threats and criminality continue to exist in the Javari valley, and other regions of the rainforest. So for me, justice is still far from being done. If the Indigenous people and traditional communities who protect the forest are still waging an unequal battle for their lives and their territories against far more powerful opponents, it’s a sign that the deaths of Bruno and Dom have not yet provoked positive change. This makes me angry.

This tragedy has caused so much sadness but has also brought good things, like my relationship with Bruno’s wife, Bia, whom I now consider a sister. It has given me the opportunity to meet so many great, supportive people who are committed to human rights and the environmental cause. I have become closer to some journalist friends. I’ve become closer, too, to Dom’s family and British friends, wonderful people whom I can unhesitatingly trust. My family and friends are closer than ever. My world has expanded and I consider this a beautiful inheritance that Dom has left me. I think of him always, with love and gratitude.

Naturally, I have come closer to that which had become Dom’s passion in recent years: the Amazon and the people of the rainforest. We talked so much about the ideas in the book he was writing.

Dom would tell me about his experiences in the forest and the contact he had with Indigenous people and river dwellers. He always came home from his trips affected, as if he had reached a new level of understanding about the realities he had seen, and wanting to know more, to meet more people and understand their points of view.

It was on one of these trips that he met Bruno, and I believe it was an intense encounter because Dom was so curious and Bruno had years of experience, living and working in the field, in the forest. The Indigenous people treated Bruno like a brother, which is so rare. And Dom was wowed by him and his knowledge and his commitment to the Javari.

They built a mutual rapport and Bruno told Beto Marubo, one of the local Indigenous leaders: “This guy is a good partner.” The people who are out there struggling need loyal allies and I think Bruno and Dom realised they could help each other achieve the same objective: protecting these territories and their people and drawing attention to the crimes that were being committed.

After Dom left us, I realised that, like many, I still knew so little about the subject and set about seeking more information. I discovered, for example, that, through their respectful handling of plants and the environment, the Indigenous peoples have contributed to the Amazon being what it is today: a living, complex, diverse forest with unparalleled natural and cultural richness and ways of life that are connected to nature and its conservation.

There is so much ancestral knowledge we do not value because it is unknown to us. There are well-intentioned people and good socio-environmental projects out there that we ignore. There is so much to learn!

That is why we are getting ready to launch an NGO in Dom’s name, the Dom Phillips Institute, with the aim of sharing what the Amazon is, and its complexities, through the peoples of the forest, and seeking ways to ensure its protection. My hope is to share my discoveries with anyone who is interested as part of a movement of collective learning.

A few months after Dom’s death, I was talking to an Indigenous leader whom I greatly admire and who helped me understand the profoundness of the struggle for conservation.

“Nature is life and the only choice we have is to protect it and to struggle for life,” he told me.

This is the concept that will guide my objectives and acts.