Adrienne Jérôme is “heartbroken”. For this indigenous woman, summer will remain synonymous with a “big shock.” Because if Canada bore the full brunt of the fires, no one paid as high a price as the Native Americans.
• Also read: Canada has been hit by the worst fire season in its history
Often isolated in large forests, these communities are seeing their territories eroded by fire and their way of life being called into question.
“The evacuation in the middle of the night, with sirens blaring… it was a real shock. The children were crying and didn’t want to leave their mothers,” says the former head of the Lac Simon community in Quebec.
While the houses of this Anishnabe village (one of Canada’s indigenous peoples) were spared from the flames, they are nothing but blackened skeletons of the neighboring vast forests of black spruce, trees so characteristic of the boreal forest.
“The forest that protects us has disappeared,” notes this moved woman, who is very respected in the village. “It’s our pantry that’s being lost. There are no more small game, no rabbits, no partridges and then all the medicinal plants have disappeared,” explains the woman who raised ten children.
The historic fire season forced thousands of Indigenous people to flee their homes. Although they only make up 5% of the Canadian population, they still make up almost one in two evacuees.
Lost sacred sites
Fires are now “so dangerous and so fast” that evacuations are becoming increasingly necessary, explains Amy Cardinal Christianson, a researcher with the Canadian Forest Service.
However, it is a real heartbreak for her because “there is a lack of trust in the fact that fire departments protect what matters most to the person or the community.”
It could be a hunting ground, a ceremonial site or even a herd of cattle, adds this member of the Métis people, one of Canada’s original populations.
“All our activities are connected to the forest. People are not aware of the loss that this means for us, it cannot be measured on a financial level,” explains Lucien Wabanonik, the leader of the community.
“Holy places, graves, meeting places have disappeared,” this man lists with slow gestures. “It’s like our church has disappeared.”
“The fire will come back”
This is the first time the Lac Simon community has been forced to evacuate due to wildfires. Although the region has been hit by fires in the past, they have never reached this extent. Most were triggered by lightning that struck very dry areas in early June.
“It smells like death now,” observes Adrienne Jérôme as she wanders through the burnt lands where she is used to hunting small game with other women.
She says she cried with her sister for a long time and thought about all the animals caught in the flames. Since then, several ceremonies have been organized in her honor.
In indigenous communities, many are calling for a return to controlled cultural burning, a centuries-old practice. This technique, suppressed by European settlers, makes it possible to limit the extent of forest fires by destroying some of the vegetation on the ground.
This creates “a mosaic in the landscape that creates or maintains open grasslands and favors forests rich in hardwoods,” which are less susceptible to fires than softwoods, says Amy Cardinal Christianson.
“We are worried because we know the fire will come back. The climate is fragile, we have always said that. A big change needs to be made,” says chef Lucien Wabanonik.
But “when we are consulted today, little is listened to,” he regrets.