Juma Indigenous sisters Mandei Juma, from left, Mayta Juma, and Borea Juma pose for a picture at their community, near Canutama, Amazonas state, Brazil.
Andre Penner/AP Photos
The Juma Indigenous tribe once numbered in the thousands.
Years of settlers from the rubber and forestry industries decimated the population.
In 2021, the last man in the patrilineal culture of the Juma died from COVID-19.
In the 18th century, an estimated 15,000 Juma people were located in the Amazonas state. After years of disease and massacres at the hands of rubber tappers, loggers, and miners, only 100 remained by 1943.
After a massacre in 1964 by the townspeople of Tapaua for access to resources on Juma land, 60 Juma people were killed, and only seven were left. By 1999, only one man was left in the patrilineal society, the chief Aruká Juma, after his brother-in-law died in a panther attack.
After Aruká died on February 17, 2021, the tribe was considered extinct. In the Juma tradition, the Juma name is passed on by the male, and Aruká Juma's children are all women.
Subjugated to years of displacement, massacres by settlers, and general mistreatment, Aruká's daughters — Mandeí Juma, Maytá Juma, and Boreá Juma — took matters into their own hands.
Here's how the Juma is keeping their culture alive in efforts led by the daughters of the last male chief.
Mandeí Juma became the first woman chief in the Amazonas.Mandei Juma, right, and Borea Juma walk on a jungle path in their community, near Canutama, Amazonas state, Brazil.
Andre Penner/ AP photos
Mandeí, her sisters, and their father had a different plan. The last remaining Juma decided that the death of Aruká wouldn't result in the extinction of their tribe.
Instead, Mandeí picked up the mantle of chief and has been doing her best to keep their traditions, culture, and language alive.
Through their efforts, the Juma are beginning to make a comeback. Juma children play in the water on the Juma reserve in Amazona, Brazil.
Andre Penner/AP Photos
The Juma were forcibly removed from their land in 1998 to the Rondônia state and married members of the Uru-Eu-Wau-Wau tribe to keep the tribe alive.
The move was difficult for the remaining Juma. The Associated Press reported that Aruká's sister and brother-in-law died of sadness just months after their move to their new location.
The children of the Juma daughters have taken on the name Juma in addition to Uru-Eu-Wau-Wau.Pure Juma, son of Borea Juma, carries a basket filled with cassava on a jungle path in the Juma Indigenous community near Canutama, Amazonas state.
Andre Penner/AP Photos
Puré Juma, the son of Boreá Juma, has broken with the patrilineal tradition of the tribe and has adopted his mother, Borea Juma's, last name.
"I kind of broke the anthropology rules and followed my mother's lineage," Puré, 22, told the AP. "If I don't identify myself as Juma, who else will?"
When he turned 15, Puré went to Brazil's Indigenous bureau, FUNAI, and changed his legal name to add his mothers. His full name is now Puré Juma Uru-Eu-Wau-Wau.
The Juma territory is roughly the size of Las Vegas and is surrounded by old-growth rainforest. Juma tribe members pilot a boat on the Assua River in their territory near Canutama, Amazonas state, Brazil,
Andre Penner/AP Photos
The community spends their days fishing. A Juma fisher shows off a fish he just caught on the Assua River.
Andre Penner/AP Photos
They also gather and grind cassava — a root native to South America — into flour by hand. Juma Indigenous sisters Borea Juma, left, Mayta Juma, and Mandei Juma, right, collect cassava at their community.
Andre Penner/AP photos
During the hottest parts of the day, the Juma gather at a community building called a maloca to relax in hammocks, eat, and tend to their birds. A young Juma girl lies in a hammock and stares at the camera.
Andre Penner/AP Photos
However, Mandeí still fears invasion and loss of land. The trans-Amazon highway crosses the Assua River near the Juma Indigenous community.
Andre Penner/AP photos
Plans to pave a highway near the Juma territory increase the risk of people trying to take Juma land.
The Juma also have been targeted by anti-Indigenous groups who claim the government goes too far in protecting Indigenous groups and providing large swaths of land despite their size.
Additionally, urban farming practices are disrupting the local environment and negatively impacting the Indigenous way of life. Mayta Juma, right, and her partner Puruem Uru-Eu-Wau-Wau ride a boat on the Assua River in the Juma Indigenous community.
Andre Penner/AP Photos.
As deforestation across the Amazon increases to make room for cattle and soybean farming, the rivers are starting to dry up, and temperatures are beginning to rise, Mandeí said.
"The river doesn't fill with water as it used to ... The water shouldn't dry up so much like this," Mandeí told the AP. "It's much hotter, it wasn't like this before. Our concern is this: Why is this happening? Because of deforestation."
Kaninde, a local Indigenous non-profit, donated drones to the Juma to help them monitor remote areas against loggers, poachers, and fishermen.
Despite the dangers of encroaching loggers, poachers, and fishermen, the Juma are doing what they can to keep tradition alive.Borea Juma lights firewood to grill fish in the Juma Indigenous community near Canutama.
Andre Penner/AP Photos
Aruká Juma was the last fluent speaker of the Juma language. After his family was forcibly removed from their land, he expressed his discontent that he was unable to speak with his grandchildren.
Working with Wesley Dos Santos, a linguist at the University of California Berkeley, a multimedia dictionary was created "for cellphones, along with an online collection of digital archives with traditional narratives, monologues, and songs in the Juma language," the AP reported.
The Juma community is still small — only two dozen people remain in the village. A group of Juma Indigenous women prepare the day's catch in their community.
Andre Penner/AP Photos
But Mandeí and her sisters are working to maintain tradition and bring back their tribe from the brink of extinction. Butterflies fly around the banks of the Assua River, next to Juma Indigenous land.
Andre Penner/AP Photos
"Because we were few, people didn't recognize or respect us," Mandeí told AP. "There had never been a woman leader before, and then people came to tell me, 'You shouldn't have assumed it because you're a woman.'"
At first, that hurt, she said. But that didn't stop Mandeí from doing the impossible and keeping the Juma alive.
"I adapted to seek solutions for our people," Mandeí said.
