President Gustavo Petro pledged to halt oil and gas exploration in the Amazon. However, Colombia faces a complex challenge, with the oil industry, armed groups, and Indigenous communities vying for control of the same territories.
April 10, 2025
Where the Putumayo River snakes through the Colombian Amazon, the guardian spirits that once presided over the forest are no longer felt as they once were. The Siona and Inga Indigenous communities are under increasing pressure from oil exploration and armed groups encroaching on their lands, and they are seeing their ancient rituals slowly weaken as their sacred river — which also flows through Ecuador, Peru, and Brazil — deteriorates.
The community of Buenavista, home to around one hundred Siona families and officially recognized in the 1970s, is situated adjacent to the Platanillo block — a 142-square-kilometer area designated for oil exploration in 2006 within the municipality of Puerto Asís in southwest Colombia. This operation is currently managed by La Nueva Amerisur, a subsidiary of GeoPark, which acquired the assets formerly held by Amerisur Resources.
Sixty kilometers from Buenavista lies the Wasipungo community, part of the Inga Indigenous territory recognized by the Colombian government over two decades ago. They face a similar predicament. More than 95 percent of Villagarzón, the town encoming the community, is earmarked for oil exploration, according to Corpoamazonia, the environmental authority. In 2010, Canada’s Gran Tierra Energy acquired the Putumayo-1 block near Wasipungo.
The Siona and Inga peoples are cross-border communities. For them, traversing the Putumayo River between Colombia and Ecuador by canoe is not a matter of crossing a national boundary, but rather moving within an ancestral territory deeply interconnected with their heritage. However, experts and Indigenous leaders assert that these connections have been undermined by the presence of armed groups, policies promoting oil expansion in the region, and the government’s perspective, which views borders more as military zones than as ancestral lands and locales for delivering public services.
“The state has abandoned the border region, treating it like a lawless wasteland,” said María Espinosa, a lawyer with Amazon Frontlines who advises Indigenous peoples in the area.
Over the past year, the Colombian outlet Rutas del Conflicto has investigated the impact of oil activities and armed groups on the Siona and Inga peoples. In October 2024, the team visited these communities, conducting anonymous interviews for security reasons. This investigation is part of Every Last Drop, a journalistic initiative aimed at revealing the effects of oil extraction in the Amazon.
‘The forest is not a place to extract oil’
In August 2022, Gustavo Petro assumed the Colombian presidency, pledging to protect the Amazon. He repeatedly declared, both domestically and internationally, an end to coal, natural gas, and oil exploitation in the rainforest. “The forest is not a place to extract oil,” Petro said at a 2024 event in Caquetá, an Amazonian region.
Since the start of the istration, no new licenses have been issued to explore the region, according to the National Hydrocarbons Agency (ANH). The President’s office has also emphasized his commitment to “protecting life, especially in biodiverse and sensitive territories like the Amazon,” and reiterated the decision not to approve new extractive contracts there.
Today, the Colombian Amazon has 132,000 square kilometers designated for oil exploitation, as reported by the Every Last Drop project using data from the Arayara International Institute up until July 2024. Of this area, over 78 percent — equating to 103,000 square kilometers — is eligible to be auctioned, though it is currently not available for sale.
Andrés Gomez, a researcher and petroleum engineer, stated that Colombia has become one of the most assertive nations in the region in opposing fossil industries. He highlighted the country’s 2023 accession to the Treaty on the Non-Proliferation of Fossil Fuels, which serves as a supplement to the Paris Agreement in restraining the expansion of these energy sources. The treaty is backed by only 16 countries, mainly small Pacific and Caribbean nations.
Colombia, Gomez noted, is among the treaty signatories most heavily reliant on oil, with the industry ing for 2.7 percent of the country’s Gross Domestic Product in 2023. “This represents a distinct perspective in the region, even in comparison to the traditional left in Brazil,” the researcher observed.
2.7 PERCENT
of Colombia’s GDP comes from oil
Gomez is referring to the recent initiatives by the Brazilian government, headed by President Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva, to expand oil exploration along the Amazon’s equatorial margin. Despite the potential environmental risks, state-owned Petrobras and the government are ardent proponents of this activity.
The Petro istration’s assertive position does not imply that oil extraction will cease immediately in the Colombian Amazon. As clarified by the President’s office, “Exploration processes that have happened and may happen are backed by existing contracts with vested rights.” This means companies like La Nueva Amerisur and Gran Tierra Energy are expected to remain active in the region for the foreseeable future.
The Platanillo and Putumayo-1 contracts extend 24 years from the start of well production, with possible extensions. Their expiration dates vary, but likely fall beyond this decade.
Gran Tierra’s local subsidiary, which owns the Putumayo-1 block, operates 18 blocks in the Amazon region—three in Ecuador and the rest in Colombia. According to an analysis of this project, Nueva Amerisur manages ten blocks, all located in the Colombian Amazon.
Between oil and guerrilla warfare
Oil exploration in the Amazon states of Putumayo and Caquetá began in 1942 when Texaco (now Chevron) started searching for oil. This is the same company that established operations in Ecuador and was behind one of the most severe environmental disasters in the Amazon.
The “oil boom” began in the latter half of the 20th century, researchers say. According to Crudo Transparente, Texaco drilled the first well in 1963 in Orito. The ensuing activity fueled urbanization and population growth, intensifying land and resource disputes and sparking conflicts among companies, immigrants, and Indigenous people.
After Texaco’s annual production plummeted over 60 percent in the decade prior, the company left Colombia in 1981, transferring its assets to the state-owned Ecopetrol. New oil companies began viewing Putumayo and Caquetá as strategically valuable for exploration in the 2000s, according to Crudo Transparente. During that decade, the government signed new contracts in the region, many of which remain active.
Colombia’s government has launched a strategy to maximize the use of the country’s remaining oil reserves, even as oil companies continue to operate in the region. In 2023, the Ministry of Mines and Energy partnered with the ANH to adopt 13 measures ensuring efficient management of areas with current contracts.
Among the initiatives is a conflict alert and resolution system to mediate tensions between communities and companies. However, ANLA, the authority responsible for issuing environmental licenses, has suspended public hearings in Putumayo since late 2023, citing safety risks to their team. A meeting to discuss Nueva Amerisur’s request to expand its project in Puerto Asís would have provided the public with an opportunity to express doubts, concerns, and demands.
In the Colombian Amazon, 79 Indigenous territories are impacted by oil blocks, ing for 18 percent of the 441 Indigenous lands across the Amazon region in eight countries, according to our analysis. This has led to an overlap of 2,590 square kilometers between Indigenous lands and oil blocks in Colombia. The country ranks third in of overlap, following Ecuador and Peru, among the nine nations that comprise the Amazon.
A coalition of civil organizations has condemned “corporate abuses” targeting the Inga community, citing “systematic violations of territorial and environmental rights alongside a failure to conduct prior, free, and informed consultations with impacted communities.” Essential regions for gathering medicinal plants have been deforested and paved over, while residents say oil exploration is polluting water sources and threatening their livelihoods.
The organization Ambiente y Sociedad also reported a lack of prior consultation with the Siona people regarding oil exploration near their territory. The report asserts that the Siona “are fully capable of arguing and demonstrating the direct and profound impacts they will suffer if extractive projects go ahead on their land.”
The presence of armed groups in Putumayo is intrinsically linked to the oil industry, according to Ambiente y Sociedad. When the Revolutionary Armed Forces of Colombia (FARC: Guerrilla group that fought against the state for more than 50 years.) controlled these areas, the group extorted oil companies and attacked their facilities, leading to major oil spills. Guerrillas also stole oil cargoes to fund operations, even operating their own refineries. In 2015, an incident led to a legal case in England between the communities of Puerto Asís and Nueva Amerisur, which was resolved through conciliation.
The 2016 peace agreement that demobilized FARC marked a turning point in the pursuit of peace. But the accord also fragmented power among armed groups now vying for control of strategic border territories, such as Putumayo, rich in coca plantations and natural resources.

The impact of guerrillas on Colombian communities
After the 2016 peace accord and the fragmentation of the Revolutionary Armed Forces of Colombia (FARC), dissident factions, such as the Comandos de la Frontera and the Frente Carolina Ramírez groups, seized control of strategic areas and began vying for drug trafficking routes.
These armed groups are using Indigenous territories for coca cultivation, leading to deforestation and river contamination from pesticides. Indigenous peoples also face constant threats. The presence of these factions hinders the reporting of abuses and restricts the activities of the state and humanitarian organizations, further isolating these communities.
Civil organizations have denounced that these groups also have links to the oil exploration in the region and extort businesses and, in some cases, provide “private security” for oil fields.
Coca cultivation along the banks of the Putumayo River.
Photo: Juan Carlos Contreras/InfoAmazonia
The Comandos de la Frontera faction, which occupies the region, today restricts those who oppose oil exploration and transportation, and acts as private security for pipelines and extraction fields, according to residents and a report by Ambiente y Sociedad.
“Since the FARC were demobilized, we haven’t seen tankers spilling oil on the roads like before. Now that the Border Commandos are in Puerto Asís, they don’t interfere with the oil company,” a local resident said.
The Carolina Ramírez Front, another active dissident group in the region, has taken a more tolerant approach to protests involving the blockade of fields and roads, according to the report. Several companies in the sector have fallen victim to extortion, and at least three attacks on oil infrastructure were recorded in the early months of 2024.
A struggle in the midst of silence
The homes in Buenavista, Puerto de Asís, stand just a few meters apart, enveloped by buriti, araçá, cupuaçu, and other quintessential Amazonian fruit trees. This Siona village is the largest among the 12 situated along the banks of the Putumayo, Cuehembí, and Piñuña Blanco rivers on the Colombian side.




The community of Buenavista, in Puerto Asís, is the largest village of the Siona people.
Photos: Juan Carlos Contreras/InfoAmazonia
The Siona have a long history of fighting to remain in their region, weathering successive threats. These include the exploitation of latex for rubber production, the trade in Amazonian animal skins, the encroachment of mining, armed conflicts, and currently, oil companies.
Tensions escalated in September 2023 as a territorial conflict erupted between the Comandos de la Frontera and the Carolina Ramírez Front. During that period, at least 2,900 people from 1,156 Siona families were temporarily confined, with others experiencing forced displacement, according to a report by the Putumayo government.
“The community is completely isolated because river transportation has been suspended and telephone and internet service are unavailable,” the Indigenous people said in a statement released two days after the first confrontation in 2023. “The families who remain are extremely vulnerable due to a lack of access to basic necessities. They live in constant fear that the clashes will reach their homes.”
The isolated families report losing access to their chagras—traditional Siona gardens—as armed factions and the army moved through the territory. A 6 p.m. curfew was imposed, and schools temporarily closed. These families said the territorial dispute further endangered the Indigenous people, who were “threatened and prevented from making complaints.”
One week after the first clashes, a medical team, a delegation representing the Putumayo and Colombian governments, and UN High Commissioner for Human Rights representatives accessed the area and developed a protection plan. However, several interviewees said the commitments remain unfulfilled, and the situation in these territories remains unstable.
Despite the isolation of the Siona Indigenous community and threats to other Indigenous people and small farmers, Nueva Amerisur continues operations. “We saw the company’s workers arrive without any problems,” a Puerto Asís resident said. “They entered the oil block in the morning, and we could see the machines they were using to open the road they are building.” The company did not respond to requests for comment.

María Espinosa, from Amazon Frontlines, now depends on precautionary measures to shield her from the death threats she’s received due to her work: “ing communities and condemning violations of their rights has come at a cost, it has come at a price. The control that armed groups wield over territories is becoming increasingly visible and recurrent.”
ing communities and condemning violations of their rights has come at a cost, it has come at a price. The control that armed groups wield over territories is becoming increasingly visible and recurrent.
María Espinosa
Lawyer and legal coordinator for Amazon Frontlines
Indigenous peoples, however, rely on distinct protection mechanisms. Notably, in 2009, Colombia’s Constitutional Court—akin to the Supreme Court in the U.S. or Brazil—issued a ruling declaring there was a risk of extermination for 34 peoples due to armed conflicts.
It called on the government to implement measures to protect various Indigenous groups historically plagued by violence, including the Siona and Inga. The Siona, in particular, reported the desecration of sacred areas, the recruitment of youth by guerrillas, forced displacement, sexual harassment, and constraints on farming, hunting, and fishing. They also suffered educationally from the flight of students and the persecution of teachers.
In 2018, the Inter-American Commission on Human Rights granted precautionary measures to the communities of Buenavista and Santa Cruz de Piñuña Blanco, both in Puerto Asís, to protect the lives and territory of the Siona Indigenous people. These measures were extended last year due to the intensification of the threats in 2023.
The commission urged local authorities to identify and mitigate risks to the territories and populations. However, community reported the state has not met its obligations. Meanwhile, armed groups continue to escalate violence, even crossing into Ecuador.
‘Everything tastes like oil’
The arrival of oil in the Siona and Inga territories has led to water contamination, restricted access to sacred areas, and noise disturbances that disrupt their harmony, they said.
For the Buenavista residents, their relationship with water has had to change.The Putumayo River is crucial for the Siona people, who rely on fishing, harvesting, and ayahuasca rituals as part of their subsistence and ancestral traditions. However, according to the Indigenous community, they can no longer drink from the streams or the river, nor can they fish.
“Everything tastes like oil. The fish are smaller now, they taste like gasoline, and they’ve been inedible since the oil company arrived,” an Indigenous man said.
Everything tastes like oil. The fish are smaller now, they taste like gasoline, and they’ve been inedible since the oil company arrived.
Indigenous Siona
Resident of the Buenavista community
Another Indigenous man mentioned that the word “oil” has no equivalent in his language: “A word that is not in our language should not be in the territory.”
The Indigenous people also expressed concern over water contamination in the tributaries of the Putumayo River, including the Piñuña Blanco, Mansoyá, and Caño Singuiya—the last of which holds sacred significance for the Siona.
“We can’t take our yagé: Ayahuasca in Indigenous languages of the Tucanoan family. journeys anymore,” a Siona shaman said. “I walk around in circles, unable to cover the territory. The water used to boil and prepare the yagé is contaminated.”
Water is fundamental to Indigenous Amazonian ayahuasca rituals, not only for preparing the drink but also for purification, spiritual connection, and healing. Ceremonies typically take place near sacred rivers.
Now, the Indigenous communities of Puerto Asís rely on rainwater for their daily needs. Due to the poor quality of the nearest water source, families have installed catchment systems in their wooden homes to fulfill basic requirements, such as bathing. “Children get sick if they bathe in rivers or streams. They develop rashes on their skin,” said one Indigenous resident.
However, there is a lack of scientific studies on the water quality in these rivers, as well as insufficient monitoring by authorities. The Ministry of the Environment, when consulted for this article, did not address the reported damage. Corpoamazonia stated it is not responsible for monitoring these impacts but acknowledged receiving complaints about the oil industry, with three incidents reported in Puerto Asís. One involves a wastewater spill in 2015, and two relate to oil spills in May and July 2016. All incidents fall under the responsibility of Nueva Amerisur, which did not respond to requests for comment.

Espinosa explained that some oil industry accidents are “easily covered up” because they often go unreported or unexplained. “It all depends on Amerisur’s transparency,” she added.
of the Inga community in Wasipungo are also raising concerns about declining water quality, a situation confirmed by Luisa Sánchez, a researcher at Ambiente y Sociedad. The most recent incident occurred in October 2024 at the Danta Iaku stream, where unidentified individuals opened tanker truck valves, resulting in an oil leak. This creek is an ancestral route for the Inga people and a crucial age for native species. In response, Gran Tierra stated that it took emergency measures and recovered 1,000 gallons of the oil-water mixture, according to Ambiente y Sociedad. The company did not respond to requests for comment to this report.
The contaminated water in Buenavista and Wasipungo isn’t residents’ only complaint; the constant noise from oil operations is also a major disruption. “It’s terrible when they’re working; the noise is constant,” one Siona Indigenous resident said, adding that the machines continue through the night, preventing sleep and disrupting yagé rituals.
It’s terrible when they’re working; the noise is constant.
Indigenous Siona
Resident of the Buenavista community
Insufficient technical studies have been conducted on water quality and noise pollution levels in the Buenavista community. In 2017, several Colombian government agencies visited the region and discovered deforestation around the Cananguchal spring in Puerto Asís. During the visit, Indigenous people informed the authorities, and they have since reiterated to this investigation, that the installation of a Nueva Amerisur platform in the La Rosa area allegedly polluted the region by discharging wastewater into a tributary of the Putumayo River.
Environmental studies were recommended for the area following the inspection, along with the communication of remediation measures to the government. Seven years later, residents report there has been no information regarding the execution of these studies.
Family farmers in the La Perna area of Puerto Asís have also mobilized. A confidential document obtained by this investigation alleges environmental damage connected to the exploitation of the Platanillo block, operated by Nueva Amerisur.
Based on a report by environmental consultancy, Corporación Integral del Medio Ambiente, it alleges that construction of the La Aldea-La Rosa road, which connects two oil fields, destroyed a wetland. “The opening of the La Rosa road was done to serve the oil company and has already caused damage to a spring,” one Indigenous man said.
The report also highlights changes in the soil’s chemical composition, severely impacting the chagras. “The pH level measures 5.9, indicating moderate acidity influenced by hydrocarbon residues,” the document states. “This reduces the availability of nutrients for plants.”
One study on regional contamination was conducted in 2022 by the Amazonian scientific research institute Sinchi. It examined the presence of oil and other chemicals in the San Miguel and Putumayo rivers within the municipality of Puerto Asís. The findings indicated that in the past decade, at least 170 square kilometers were affected by oil spills, caused by both operational failures and actions by armed groups.
170 KM²
affected by oil spills in the Colombian Amazon in the last 10 years
At the end of 2024, the Foundation for Conservation and Sustainable Development, an organization committed to preserving the Amazon, published an analysis using ANLA data. The report indicated that from January 2019 to December 2023, the agency recorded 49 complaints of environmental infractions linked to the oil sector.
An analysis by the Every Last Drop project, using Colombian government data, identified 28 complaints of environmental infractions tied to Amazonian oil extraction between 2013 and 2024. Ecosystem contamination ed for 19 infractions (67 percent). Deforestation within oil block areas and non-compliance with operational limits were also documented.
Gran Tierra and Amerisur are the primary offenders, tly responsible for 11 cases—nearly 40 percent of the total. ANH has also been cited for six violations, though details on any penalties imposed remain undisclosed.

Meanwhile, the Siona people, lacking external , rely on their Indigenous guard—a group of men and women armed with batons—to patrol and safeguard the Amazon rainforest surrounding their territory. These guardians, called cuiracuas, arose from a political and organizational initiative to defend and strengthen their culture and territorial governance. On the front lines of both physical and spiritual protection, they confront threats, forced displacement, and confinement imposed by armed groups.
But Luis Felinto Piaguaje Yaiguaje, a prominent shaman, could not be saved by the cuiracuas. According to his people, he “died of sadness” in 2018, a loss that the Indigenous community still struggles to accept. At that time, the Ombudsman’s Office, a national human rights institution, issued a statement indicating that the shaman’s health “suffered constant deterioration” due to the impacts of oil operations in the region. These operations, they noted, occurred “without prior consultation or an environmental license.”
For the region’s peoples, oil exploration affects not only their quality of life but also their thoughts, ways of living, and relationship with the world, said María Espinosa.
“The oil killed him, contaminated his spring, and the old man could never again draw water from that stream to prepare his yagé. He felt no pain in his bones, had no tumor. He simply faded like a small candle because he could never again converse with the [spirit of the] tiger, who never spoke to him again.”
This article is part of the project Every Last Drop, produced with the of the Global Commons Alliance, sponsored by Rockefeller Philanthropy Advisors.