Decolonising Paradise: How Principe Island Challenges Extractive Tourism Models
In an era where mass tourism continues to exploit marginalised communities and devastate fragile ecosystems, the tiny West African island of Principe offers a radical reimagining of what sustainable travel might look like. Yet beneath this progressive veneer lies a complex web of colonial legacies and power structures that demand critical examination.
Reclaiming Spaces of Colonial Violence
Principe, alongside São Tomé, forms one of West Africa's smallest nations in the Gulf of Guinea. The island's landscape bears witness to centuries of Portuguese colonial brutality, where enslaved Africans were trafficked through these shores and forced to labour on sugar and cocoa plantations. Today, jungle vegetation has reclaimed these sites of systemic oppression, offering a powerful metaphor for nature's resistance to colonial extraction.
The island's current trajectory stands in stark contrast to mainstream tourism models that perpetuate neo-colonial relationships. Local communities have collectively rejected palm oil cultivation projects, choosing instead to centre their agency in determining their economic future through community-led ecotourism initiatives.
Challenging White Saviour Narratives
The story of HBD (Here Be Dragons), the sustainable tourism enterprise managing properties on Principe, requires careful deconstruction. Founded by South African entrepreneur Mark Shuttleworth, the first African to enter space in 2002, the project emerged from his environmental epiphany while observing Earth from orbit.
While Shuttleworth's initial intention to purchase Principe as a private island investment reflects troubling patterns of wealthy individuals acquiring African territories, his pivot toward community-centred tourism represents a more progressive approach. However, we must interrogate whether such initiatives truly decolonise tourism or simply repackage extractive relationships in more palatable terms.
Environmental Justice and Indigenous Stewardship
In 2012, Principe achieved UNESCO World Biosphere status, recognising both its extraordinary biodiversity and the community's commitment to environmental stewardship. More than half of this volcanic island remains protected natural park, safeguarding a 31-million-year-old rainforest ecosystem that houses numerous endemic species.
The waters surrounding Principe support diverse marine life, including humpback whales and five turtle species that nest on local beaches. This biodiversity exists not despite human presence, but because of the island community's traditional ecological knowledge and sustainable practices.
Reimagining Economic Models
HBD's forthcoming Natural Dividend project proposes financially rewarding islanders for ecosystem protection efforts. While this initiative could provide crucial economic support for conservation work, it also raises questions about commodifying environmental stewardship that communities have practised for generations without external validation or payment.
The project's ambition to replicate this model across Africa reflects both promising potential and concerning assumptions about scalability that may not account for diverse local contexts and community needs.
Accessibility and Privilege
Despite its progressive ethos, Principe's tourism model remains inherently exclusive. Reaching the island requires flights via Lisbon and São Tomé, with accommodation packages starting at £3,550 per person. This pricing structure inevitably limits access to wealthy, predominantly white travellers, potentially reinforcing the very power imbalances that sustainable tourism claims to address.
The island's remoteness, while crucial for environmental protection, also highlights how 'sustainable' tourism often depends on maintaining barriers that exclude working-class communities and those from the Global South.
Toward Truly Decolonised Travel
Principe's approach offers valuable lessons for reimagining tourism beyond extractive models. The community's rejection of industrial agriculture in favour of heritage cocoa production at Roca Sundy plantation demonstrates how economic development can honour historical memory while creating dignified livelihoods.
However, true decolonisation requires more than sustainable practices. It demands fundamental shifts in who controls tourism narratives, who benefits from economic development, and how we understand the relationship between travel, privilege, and global justice.
As climate breakdown accelerates and tourism's environmental impact becomes increasingly undeniable, Principe's experiment in community-led sustainability deserves attention. Yet we must remain vigilant against romanticising initiatives that, despite good intentions, may perpetuate structural inequalities that characterise the tourism industry.
The challenge lies not simply in making tourism more sustainable, but in questioning whether tourism as currently conceived can ever be truly just. Principe's story suggests possibilities for transformation, while reminding us that decolonising travel requires confronting uncomfortable truths about privilege, access, and power.