In the afternoons, a group of monkeys can be seen on the highest branches of mango trees surrounding the house where farmers José Aldenor da Silva Pedroso and Expedita de Souza Lima live. It is located in the rural community of Chaves, in Mojuí dos Campos, in the western region of the state of Pará, about 30 kilometers from Santarém, also in Pará.
“They're there almost every day. They've got used to us,” says the farmer. He believes that animals go there searching for food. “It's a good thing having these trees here for them to get some fruit, isn’t it?"
From above, the family property is a green island in the middle of a monoculture desert. Covering 38 hectares, it is home to three springs surrounded by preserved forests. In front of the house, a dirt road demarcates the borders: on the one side, family farming; on the other, plowed land stretches as far as the eye can see, where soybeans are interspersed with corn, depending on the period of the year. There, memories of the forest are all that remain.
“When about 70 families were living here, we used to come here at midday or one o'clock in the afternoon, pick up a bag of what we produced, put it on our backs and walk from there to here, under the trees,” Pedroso recalls.
With the advance of crop monocultures in the Planalto Santareno region - neighboring the cities of Santarém, Belterra and Mojuí dos Campos - green areas lost space. “Now, at midday, you can't stand it. It's dangerous, because there's no trees, there's nothing,” the farmer laments.
The cities are located around the BR 163 highway, used to transport soybeans harvested in Mato Grosso. The state is number one in Brazil's soybean production. In Santarém, in 2003, Cargill set up a port to supply cargo ships.
From there, soy production goes down the Tapajós River to the Amazon and then to other countries. The port contributed to expanding monoculture plantations around the BR 163 highway. After Cargill, other agribusiness companies set up ports and infrastructure projects to export grains.
According to the report Soy in the Northern Logistics Corridor, published by the Institute for Socio-Economic Studies (INESC, in Portuguese), the problem could become even more serious with the construction of Ferrogrão. This railroad will connect Sinop (in the state of Mato Grosso) to the district of Miritituba, in the city of Itaitua (in the state of Pará). “If it becomes true, the railroad will cross a highly socio-biodiverse region, affecting at least 17 Conservation Units of various categories, as well as at least six Indigenous Lands of the Kayapó and Panará peoples,” warns the study.
A community surrounded by soy plantation in Belterra / Vitor Shimomura/Brasil de Fato
Forests disappear, whole communities disappear, and soy deserts take their place. In 2005, Mojuí dos Campos had 3,000 hectares covered with soybean plantations. According to data taken from the Mapbiomas platform, the area jumped to 51,400 hectares in 2023.
Among the three municipalities in the region, Mojuí leads in terms of environmental devastation. The annual rate of deforestation there rose from 400 hectares in 2013 to 6,100 in 2021, an increase of 1,443%. The data were collected by the Brazilian Amazon Forest Satellite Monitoring Program (PRODES, in Portuguese), run by the National Institute for Space Research (INPE, in Portuguese).
The intense deforestation in Mojuí gave the city the pole position on the list of the 70 municipalities with the most deforestation in the Amazon, updated in 2024 by Brazil’s Ministry of the Environment and Climate Change. These locations are responsible for almost 80% of deforestation in the Amazonian biome. They are monitored under the Action Plan for the Prevention and Control of Deforestation in the Legal Amazon (PPCDAm, in Portuguese).
Forest islands and family farming
When Brasil de Fato visited the region in mid-November 2024, the crops were in the final phase of the so-called sanitary void, a three-month period in which crops are suspended to contain the spread of the fungus that causes Asian Soybean Rust, a disease that can result in losses of up to 90% of the crop.
All that remained were the cut stalks of corn. On the ochre ground, dried foliage and a few ears of corn accentuated the contrast between monoculture and family farming areas.
Pedroso is one of the locals who insists on planting. With the help of his son José André Lima Pedroso and his wife, he grows açaí berries, bananas, peppers, cassava, coconut and other foods. "There's a bit of everything," he says. With no plans or desire to abandon the land, the family deals with the pressure of living surrounded by a monoculture.
Three families stand still in the Chaves community. "Everyone left. We were the only ones who stayed. It was full of houses. There were houses here, over there, on the other side of the bridge," says Expedita.
The residents' departure began in the late 1990s when the first family farmers sold their land to cattle ranchers before monocultures arrived. In the mid-2000s, pastures were taken over by soybean plantations, increasing pressure on small farmers to sell their properties.
Forced to leave
According to Sileuza Barreto, president of the Mojuí dos Campos Rural Workers' and Family Farmers' Union, of the 130 or so rural communities in the city, 19 have disappeared completely. Others have lost ground to soybean plantations and are facing the process of disappearing.
She explains that this process happens in two phases. First, soy growers - called sojeiros or sojicultores - seek out the residents and make them an offer to buy their land. Some accept and sell their land, which is then used to grow grain. Those who remain in the community live surrounded by soy and often have no other option but to look for another place to live.
"There are people that were forced to leave because they could not make ends meet anymore due to plagues, insects that migrate to their areas, and also the poison [used by agribusiness]," says Barreto.
Retired family farmer Messias Tiburcio de Castro is among those who have decided to sell their properties. He left the Chaves community around seven years ago after spending five decades there.
“A sojeiro started buying my neighbors' lands. He kept buying and buying and we were almost isolated,” he says. On the property where they raised their six children, Castro and his wife, Maria Muniz, grew cassava, rice, fruits and vegetables. Today, the couple lives on a farm in the Baixa da Onça community.
In less than a hectare, among some fruit trees, chickens scratch in the yard. From the gate, you can see the soya plantations. At specific periods of the year, you don't have to look around to feel the presence of the monoculture.
The couple retells the last time soybean farmers applied limestone, a mineral used to improve the quality of the soil and prepare it for planting. The wind carried the fine powder through the air, spreading it over properties around the plantation area. “The hammock was covered with limestone,” says Muniz, pointing to the blue hammock tied between two trees near the house.
"Limestone bothers him, but pesticides are his real concern. When tractors spray, the toxic smell is carried by the wind," Castro says.
Retired family farmer Messias Tiburcio de Castro left the cmmunity where he lived for 50 years./ Vitor Shimomura/Brasil de Fato
Barreto closely monitors the consequences of the growth of grain plantations. In the community where he lives, Terra Preta dos Lúcios, a stream died due to pesticide contamination and deforestation.
"When we arrived here, this stream was used to everything: we used to shower with it, wash things, fish," he recalls. Near the spring, sojicultores cut the riparian forest. "Today, it is no more (…). It was all destroyed," he laments.
Damned if you do, damned if you don’t
In this scenario of devastation, what is left of the green area becomes a refuge for different species, such as the monkeys that visit Pedroso's yard. In October, capybaras devoured açaí seedlings the family planted. “Things have become more complicated for us now because we have to work to support ourselves and the animals,” says the farmer, in a resigned tone.
With the change in the landscape, insects are also making inroads into preserved territories and family farming areas. “We fight. I do my best not to use poison,” says Pedroso. However, the pesticides applied to the soybeans push the pests onto the family's crops. “Then, from time to time, we have to use it, because otherwise we won't harvest. There's no way out,” he laments.
Without knowing whether he was contaminated by pesticides carried through the wind, water or food, the farmer is now worried about his health. A test carried out in 2023 by the Evandro Chagas Institute confirmed the presence of glyphosate in Pedroso's urine. According to the World Health Organization (WHO), this substance, used as a pesticide against weeds, is potentially carcinogenic to humans. The farmer's wife and son were also tested and came back negative. “I've been tested again and I'm waiting for the new results. I don't know what's going to happen. We're like this. Damned if we do, damned if we don’t,” he concluded.
Family farmer José Aldenor da Silva Pedroso photographed in the forest near one of the springs / Vitor Shimomura/Brasil de Fato.
Following the dirt road that works as a border between Pedroso’s family property and the soy plantation, it is possible to get a sense of the devastation. In the middle of the monoculture desert, the burnt trunk of a thick tree remains. In some places, chestnut trees stand alone, reminding us that although the Santareno Planalto has some Cerrado characteristics, such as stretches of low, twisted trees, this is an Amazonian area.
At a certain point on the road, two huge mango trees shade the graves in the cemetery of the Baixa do Cipó community, the only reminder of that part of the village. Where there used to be houses, soy covered everything.
“When walking through some areas, those who don't know that there used to be a community there, those who don't know the history of the place, will continue not knowing, because a soy desert is the only thing that can be seen” Barreto laments.
Cemitery of the Baixa do Cipó community, in Mojuí dos Campos, Pará, surrounded by soy plantations. / Vitor Shimomura/Brasil de Fato
In Belterra spraying of pesticides near a school caused classes to be suspended
In addition to the 19 communities that have disappeared in the region, others are getting smaller and smaller. This is the case of São Francisco da Volta Grande, in the city of Belterra, where the backyards of some houses border the grain plantation area.
“The community is gradually disappearing, giving way to more and more soy plantations,” says Giselida Nunes da Silva, who has been teaching at Vitalina Motta Elementary School since 2017.
In June 2024, the 300 or so students served by the school had classes suspended due to pesticide contamination. “In the last two years, 2023 and 2024, that's when we felt it most. An intense smell, students and teachers getting sick,” says Silva. Teachers recorded videos of pesticides being applied during class time.
In January 2023, the Pará Public Prosecutor's Office opened a civil inquiry proposing that the State Secretariat for Environment and Sustainability, the Belterra Municipal Secretariat for Environmental Management and Tourism and the Pará State Agricultural Defense Agency inspect the plantations around the school. The document asked the agencies to assess whether pesticide spraying was being carried out within the minimum distance required by environmental legislation.
Between January and February 2023, the Institute for the Environment and Renewable Natural Resources (also known in Brazil as Ibama) issued 38 notices to the soy producer responsible for environmental crimes around the school. The institute fined the producer R$ 1 million (about US$ 164,000) and banned pesticide use until its determinations were met.
In 2024, the pesticide was applied in the early hours of the morning and, once again, students and teachers became ill when they arrived at school. As a result, classes were suspended for two days. “We did some toxicology tests here at the school to identify poisoning risks. We’re waiting for the results,” says teacher Heloise Rocha, who has worked at the school for nine years. The case is being investigated by the Santarém Agrarian Conflict Police Station.
“It's not just the school that's being poisoned, it's the community as a whole that's being affected by this,” laments Silva.
*This article was produced in partnership with the INESC (Institute for Socio-Economic Studies).
Edited by: Rodrigo Chagas
