Dannya Bravo, the girl who forced Ecuador to stop burning gas in the Amazon: ‘The struggle of a few is for the future of many’

When Dannya Bravo was six years old, she would cycle around the giant oil platform she knew as “plant C,” located right next to her home in the Amazonian town of Francisco de Orellana. From there, she would observe the houses inside the complex, but she was never able to get close. Access was always restricted to the community members. “I thought it was a city. The little houses seemed pretty to me, and when I was little, I wanted to go inside to see them up close,” she says.

It was during those years that she began to understand what the flares meant. That moment coincided with the illness of her father, an external worker for the oil companies who was in charge of cleaning the pipes, who was diagnosed with cerebellum cancer. “They began to explain to me what the flares were, and I began to ask questions until I understood what they did,” recalls Dannya, who at 13 years old has spent more than half of her life fighting in the streets. Together with eight other girls from the region, she has sued the Ecuadorian State to stop the burning of natural gas by flaring, a practice derived from oil exploitation that has marked the life of Amazonian communities filled with oil fields.

In 2021, the Ecuadorian judicial system ruled in favor of nine Amazonian girls: Dannya, Denisse, Daniela, Kerly, Skarlett, Evelyn, Leonela, Rosa and Jamileth. The verdict was clear: the oil flares, those fiery monsters that flash between the trees of the jungle, must be eliminated gradually. In a ruling that gave hope to an entire community, the judge ordered that, as a priority, the flares near human settlements be removed. However, almost four years later, the judicial promise remains unfulfilled. The fire giants are still there, belching smoke and polluting the lives of these girls and their families.

When she is not at school, Dannya is a tireless environmental activist. “I am one of the plaintiffs, but I also study hard and I am good at it, because I want to be an activist. The struggle of a few is for the future of many. People are unaware of this issue and that is why we organize workshops to constantly provide information.” With a determination that does not match her age, she walks around her community, pointing out the flares and the devastating effects they cause. She explains to those who will listen, with patience and clarity, how these flares, which seem harmless at first glance, are a latent danger for her people and the forest that surrounds them.

“Do you hear it? It’s a horrible sound, like a cicada that makes noise all the time, day and night. It’s horrible to live like this, it makes me so angry,” she continues, as she walks towards the flare. She warns that we will immediately feel fatigued, and could develop a headache. On the ground around the flare, we can see the remains of dead animals. “It looks like rubbish, but it’s mostly moths, butterflies, sometimes there are little birds,” she adds, pointing out the tragic consequences of pollution.

The journey continues to the oil platforms Sacha 53, 18, 192, 65 and 274, all located within a radius of 10 kilometers. At the last well, Dannya approaches a house where a couple, Juan and Juana Cortez, are standing in the doorway of their small house, right next to a huge gas burner. Her face reflects the pain of living near these structures. She feels distressed, with a constant headache. “That smell of gas and the noise is unbearable… day and night,” she says, rubbing her hands over her face. They have no choice but to endure it, since their house was relocated there when the well was built. “We were there first, but they relocated us here to build the well,” he explains, visibly tired.

The situation gets worse when the rain puts out the flares, because the smell becomes even more unbearable. That was a lesson learned by the girls, says Dannya. “At the beginning of the lawsuit we asked them to turn off the burners, but they are very clever at that,” she says indignantly. “Turning off the burners means that the gas continues to flow through the pipe and spreads into the environment. The smell was terrible. It got worse, that is why we asked them to remove them altogether,” she explains, visibly frustrated.

Amnesty International has mapped at least 52 flares within 5 kilometers of population centres, a distance that poses a potential risk to the health of local communities and the environment. According to a 2024 Ministry of Environment report, there are 486 flares across the Ecuadorian Amazon, which must be removed by 2030. Of those, 148 have been dismantled, according to Petroecuador, the state oil company. However, for the girls living around the flares, the numbers do not reflect reality. They remain lit, and those in population centres, which were to be dismantled as a priority, continue to burn, as the Ministry of Energy’s definitions of what constitutes a population centre appear flexible.

“I don’t think this should be the work of a thirteen-year-old girl. One of my colleagues has been told to drop the lawsuit for her own safety,” says Dannya. “We have been stopped by soldiers with live ammunition and pepper spray, on the road,” she adds, pointing out that the fight has not been easy and that her courage has sometimes had a price, but that it has taught her the purpose of her life: to be an activist who defends the rights of nature.

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