Nomole:

The Last Free People of the Amazon

Deep in the Peruvian rainforest, one of the world’s last uncontacted peoples fights to remain hidden from a world that won’t leave them alone.

Why this resource exists, and why it should be the last thing you read about them.

You found this page because something sparked your curiosity. Perhaps you saw a photograph, distant figures emerging from the forest, arrows in hand. Maybe you caught a headline about “lost tribes” or “uncontacted peoples.” You might have heard about the “Mashco Piro” (a derogatory name still used in media), the Nomole (their actual name), or seen footage of people appearing briefly at a riverbank before vanishing back into the Amazon.

Your curiosity is understandable. It’s human nature to wonder about people living entirely outside our interconnected world, maintaining ways of life that have endured for thousands of years.

But before you search further, you need to understand something fundamental: They know we exist, and they choose to stay away.

This isn’t a mystery waiting to be solved. It isn’t a gap in anthropological knowledge that needs filling. Their isolation is a deliberate choice, one paid for in blood, carved from historical trauma, and maintained through extraordinary vigilance. Every day they remain hidden is a day they actively choose not to engage with a world that has brought their ancestors enslavement, disease, and death.

They are watching you, though you cannot see them. They know you are there long before you know they exist. This is their forest, their home for countless generations, and they have chosen to keep it that way.

The Purpose of This Document

This resource exists for a specific reason: to be comprehensive enough that you never need to search elsewhere, and clear enough that you understand why searching further — or worse, attempting to visit — would be both dangerous and profoundly wrong.

Consider this document a boundary marker. It will tell you what is known, why it matters, and most importantly, why the story must end here. It combines the expertise of Dr. Kerry Bowman, bioethicist and environmentalist at the University of Toronto, with the most complete information available about uncontacted peoples, particularly the Nomole of Peru (often mislabeled in media as “Mashco Piro”).

By reading this, you’re not just learning about uncontacted peoples — you’re participating in their protection. Every person who reads this instead of seeking them out, every tourist who understands why they can never visit, every curious mind that finds answers here rather than there, helps maintain the buffer between their world and ours.

Read this. Understand it. Then leave them alone.

Introduction: To Live Unseen and Uncontacted

Across the remote forests of the Western Amazon lives the highest concentration of uncontacted peoples on Earth — small, self-sustaining societies who remain beyond the reach of modern life, living in ways that have endured for millennia beneath the forest canopy. Although poorly understood and rarely observed, their existence is a powerful reality of multiple regions, particularly in the far western Amazon.

These territories are a priority for climate, biodiversity, and global food security — the three major challenges of a decade that will determine the future of the planet.

In the Western Amazon, Earth’s last uncontacted peoples guard the forests that guard our future.

The Right to Be Left Alone: Why Protection Is Survival

Uncontacted peoples hold one of the most fundamental human freedoms — the right to live life on their own terms, without outside interference. International law, through the UN Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples, affirms this autonomy and their right to remain uncontacted. This is not an abstract legal idea — it is often a matter of their very survival.

1. Disease and Survival

History shows that contact with the outside world can be catastrophic. Diseases to which isolated peoples have no immunity can sweep through entire communities. When contact occurs, gastrointestinal and respiratory diseases — common to us but deadly to them — can decimate populations. Protecting their isolation may well be protecting their very lives.

2. Cultural Preservation

Something else is being safeguarded — cultures, languages, and spiritual traditions that represent irreplaceable threads in humanity’s shared tapestry. When we respect their wish to remain apart, we help preserve one of humankind’s most authentic and unspoiled expressions of culture.

3. Protection from Exploitation

Keeping these communities safe from intrusion protects them from well-known patterns of exploitation and violence. Time and again, once contact occurs, it brings with it land grabs, illegal logging, mining, trafficking, and gender-based violence. Respecting their isolation is an act of proactive protection — a stand against the cycles of abuse that have so often followed in the wake of “bringing to civilization.”

4. Environmental Guardians

There is another, equally powerful reason for protection: the environment itself. Scientific studies (Garnett et al., 2018; Estrada et al., 2022; Serrano-Rojas et al., 2022) show that Indigenous-controlled lands — especially those of isolated groups — have far lower rates of deforestation and ecological disturbance than surrounding regions. These lands act as natural sanctuaries of biodiversity and powerful shields against climate change (Fa et al., 2020; FAO, 2021; Schleicher et al., 2017). In their isolation, uncontacted peoples become unexpected guardians of planetary balance — their very existence contributes to stabilize carbon sinks and help sustain the world’s climate.

They stay hidden to stay alive; by staying alive, they keep the forests intact; by keeping the forests intact, they keep us all alive.

The Nomole: Peru’s Largest Uncontacted People

A Note on Naming

The people discussed in this section call themselves Nomole. This is their name for themselves, and it is the term that should be used out of respect.

You may encounter the term “Mashco Piro” in government documents, news reports, and even in the legal name of their protected reserve. “Mashco” is a derogatory term historically used by outsiders — it essentially means “savage” or “wild” in local usage. “Piro” refers to the related Yine people. The Peruvian government still uses “Mashco Piro” in official documentation, including the legal designation of the Reserva Indígena Mashco Piro, but this reflects bureaucratic inertia rather than respectful recognition.

Throughout this document, we use “Nomole” except when directly referencing legal documents or historical records where the other term appears. This choice reflects the principle that people should be called by the names they choose for themselves.

Identity and Current Status

The Nomole are an Arawakan-speaking people closely related to the Yine. They are the largest known uncontacted group in Peru, with estimates suggesting over 750 individuals as of 2024-2025. Their range spans across Madre de Dios, Cusco, and Ucayali, overlapping with Manu National Park and the reserve legally designated as “Reserva Indígena Mashco Piro” of over 816,057 hectares.

Most uncontacted groups are very rarely seen and hide from outsiders. The Nomole differ: although not often, they are seen; appearing at the river’s edge, sometimes in significant numbers, before fading back into the forest. Each brief appearance raises the same question: why now?

Language and Communication

The Nomole language is an Arawakan variety, documented only through Steve Parker’s 2015 preliminary wordlist and phonological sketch. It is distinct yet related to Yine (Piro). Data remain fragmentary by design, to minimize intrusion. When the Nomole have communicated with settled Indigenous peoples, it has been through variants of the Yine language, allowing for limited but crucial exchanges of information.

Historical Context: The Legacy of the Rubber Boom

During the late 19th century rubber boom, incursions by figures like Carlos Fitzcarrald caused violence and enslavement, pushing survivors into deep forest refuge. The Nomole people retreated to the headwaters of the rivers to escape subjugation in rubber camps. This historical trauma underpins their choice of voluntary isolation — a century-old decision that continues to shape their relationship with the outside world.

The trauma has been renewed in modern times. In the mid-2000s, during the mahogany and cedar boom, illegal loggers hired mercenaries to kill isolated peoples in the Madre de Dios Reserve. After the murder of an indigenous girl, members of the isolated group attacked the loggers in retaliation. The violence led to international denunciation and eventually a reduction in logging activities, but the scars remain.

Current Threats and Territorial Pressures

According to Indigenous observers and environmental monitors, the Nomole’s movements are increasingly tied to territorial stress:

• Illegal logging: Valuable timber like Mahogany and Shihuahuaco continues to attract illegal loggers
• Drug trafficking routes: Ancient trails now exploited by traffickers
• Gold mining operations: Advancing ever deeper into the Madre de Dios region
• Infrastructure development: The paving of the Trans-Amazon Interoceanic Highway has led to a surge of illegal secondary roads penetrating the forest

Their seasonal surfacing is less a sign of curiosity than of displacement, as the last intact corridors of their regions are narrowed by extractive industries. “Uncontacted” is, particularly in this case, an imperfect term. The Nomole are not entirely invisible; rather, they are choosing the boundaries of their visibility.

Misnamed, hunted, pushed to the edges of their own forest by our endless hunger for wood, gold, and drugs. The Nomole appear at riverbanks, not to make contact but because they’re running out of places to hide.

A Moral Test for Our Time

Some argue that isolation is no longer fully possible given encroachment, environmental change, and illegal resource extraction, so controlled contact may be better than accidental harmful contact. We see this argument as defeatist. There is no reason why indigenous protected areas of the Amazon cannot remain respected and protected regions virtually indefinitely.

Respecting the uncontacted is, at its heart, a moral test for our time. Will we repeat the same mistakes that devastated Indigenous peoples across the globe, or will we finally choose restraint, humility, and respect? To let them remain uncontacted is not abandonment—it is recognition of their dignity, their rights, and their irreplaceable role in humanity’s shared story. In protecting them, we protect cultural pluralism, we protect our planet’s ecosystems, and we protect the very idea that human beings have the right to live freely.

The uncontacted are people who, unknowingly, live beyond the parameters of the twenty-first century. Common phrases like “we are all interconnected as never before” take on a hauntingly different meaning when we remember that these few remaining communities exist entirely outside that web of connection. They are the last small enclaves of humanity beyond the reach of globalization and integration — living reminders of a time when every society depended directly on the land and forest around them. Something well worth preserving.

In many ways, their story is a reflection of our own — a living mirror of how all human beings once survived before technology and expansion reshaped the planet. Their existence challenges us to reconsider what progress means, and to ask difficult questions: What are the responsibilities of a modern state toward people who may not even know that state exists? Their independence from the wider world forces us to look inward, to examine how we define civilization, belonging, and respect.

Perhaps, in the silence of their forests, they hold the truest lesson of all — that freedom, in its purest form, is the right to be left alone.

Existing Legal Framework and Protection Mechanisms

Peru’s Legal Protections

Peru has established one of the most comprehensive legal frameworks for protecting uncontacted peoples: Law 28736 and Decree DS 007-2016-MC safeguard the Nomole via what is officially called the “Reserva Indígena Mashco Piro,” which is legally intangible. Despite the problematic name (which the government has not updated), the reserve covers 816,057.06 hectares in the Purús district of Ucayali.

The Reserve was formally categorized in 2016, transitioning from a territorial reserve to an Indigenous Reserve with stronger legal protections. The objective is the protection of the rights, habitat, and conditions that ensure the existence and integrity of the Nomole, Mastanahua, and other unidentified isolated peoples in the region. The continued use of “Mashco Piro” in legal documents reflects bureaucratic inertia rather than current best practices in Indigenous rights.

Oversight is provided by:

• Ministry of Culture (PIACI unit - Protection of Indigenous Peoples in Isolation and Initial Contact)
• SERNANP (National Service of Natural Protected Areas)

Additionally, the Reserva Territorial Madre de Dios provides further protection in the region.

Community-Based Protection: Living on the Edge of Two Worlds

Several communities in the Madre de Dios region live near territories of uncontacted peoples. These settlements, working with local indigenous federations and the Ministry of Culture, have developed strict protocols for survival — not adventure.

The Danger is Real:The Nomole and other uncontacted groups have killed loggers, settlers, and others who entered their territory. In 2010, a community member was shot through the abdomen with an arrow. He survived against all odds, but many others have not been so fortunate. These are not peaceful encounters — they are life-threatening situations.

Communities have extensive emergency protocols involving:

• Immediate evacuation procedures
• Fortified safe areas
• Strict no-pursuit rules
• Communication with authorities

The fundamental rule is simple: avoid all contact. When signs of uncontacted peoples are found, residents retreat and wait days before returning to the area. Even communities that have lived in the region for decades treat every potential encounter as potentially fatal. These are not tourist destinations. These are not places where curious outsiders can safely observe “lost tribes.” These are active conflict zones where the price of intrusion is often death — either from arrows or from diseases transmitted to the isolated peoples.

Cross-Border Collaboration

The lessons learned from this model community are already helping other settlements. In 2023, monitoring agents from local indigenous federations traveled to southern Brazil, also Nomole territory, to share their experiences with local communities. This cross-border collaboration is essential as isolated peoples travel between Peru and Brazil along traditional routes.

We’ve learned what 800,000 ‘protected’ hectares really means: our diseases kill them, their arrows kill us. See their signs? Run away. That’s survival, not fear.

Life After Contact: Lessons from Other Groups

The Cautionary Tales

The Matsé came out of isolation in 1969. Now, as they near the end of their lives, elders feel the urge to share memories they had hitherto kept to themselves, preparing to teach a new generation that is losing the skills to survive in the wild.

The Isconahua were contacted by an evangelical group from the United States in the mid-20th century. The results were devastating: some died when canoes capsized during forced relocation, others succumbed to diseases for which they had no immunity. Half a century later, survivors remain in permanent limbo, without land they can truly call their own. As Felix Ochavano, an Isconahua youth, explains:

We were abandoned on the margins of society. Decades have passed, but we continue to feel invisible.

Conservation Partnerships: The Junglekeepers Model

Junglekeepers both understand and respects this delicate balance. They see the Nomole and other uncontacted peoples not as separate from nature but as an essential part of it — living proof of humanity’s deep, adaptive relationship with the forest. Junglekeepers ultimate goal to establish a national park in the region goes hand in hand with securing a further protected Indigenous region for the Nomole and possibly other isolated groups. This will be an ongoing challenge. We lack complete information about the Nomole and other uncontacted people therefore it is important we remain open to new evidence, perspectives, and strategies.

Junglekeepers’ approach is critically different from traditional conservation: we’re not trying to preserve an empty wilderness, but to protect an inhabited homeland whose residents never asked for help. Junglekeepers’ rangers. many of them Indigenous people from contacted communities, some former loggers who once threatened these very forests, patrol not to observe or study, but to intercept threats before they reach uncontacted territories.

Every action is a buffer: each illegal road blocked prevents deeper penetration into Nomole territory. Each logging camp dismantled with authorities removes the risk of violent encounters. Each gold mining operation stopped and shut down prevents mercury poisoning of rivers the Nomole depend on. When drug traffickers cut new paths through the forest, rangers work to detect and close them before they become highways of invasion.

The strategy is simple but demanding: manage our world so fiercely that it never touches theirs.

Current Protection Efforts:

• 130,000+ acres under active conservation, forming critical protective corridors
• 35+ rangers conducting daily patrols, watching for our intrusions, never theirs
• Protective buffer zones established after violent incursions forced the Nomole into dangerous contact
• Support for contacted Indigenous communities to secure land titles, creating legal walls against invasion
• Constant monitoring of illegal logging, gold mining, and drug trafficking routes
• Rapid response protocols when threats are detected, coordinating with authorities for removal
• Zero-contact policy: rangers retreat when signs of uncontacted peoples are found

The hardest part isn’t the logistics or the danger, it’s the discipline of protection without knowledge, guarding people you must never meet, of succeeding only when nothing happens.

Conclusion: Guardians of What We’ve Lost

The Nomole face mounting environmental and territorial pressures, yet their presence signals resilience — a living continuity between people and rainforest that has endured for millennia. Supporting their right to remain uncontacted is not only an act of compassion; it is an affirmation of coexistence. It means recognizing that sometimes, the most respectful way to protect a people is simply to let them live, undisturbed, in peace. It is neither ethical nor safe for anyone to attempt to observe the Nomole; these are a people whose isolation must be respected, not studied.

For everyone else reading this:

• This document contains all you need to know.
• Do not attempt to visit these areas.
• Do not support tourism operations that promise glimpses of uncontacted peoples.
• Do not share specific location information if you come across it.
• Understand that your interest, however well-intentioned, can cause harm.

To protect uncontacted peoples’ land is not just a moral or national duty; it is part of a global responsibility. Their continued survival strengthens both cultural and ecological resilience — a reminder that the health of the planet and the dignity of its most vulnerable peoples are deeply intertwined. In protecting the right of uncontacted peoples to remain isolated, we protect far more than individual communities. We safeguard:

• The last intact rainforests that stabilize our climate.
• Irreplaceable biodiversity hotspots.
• Living libraries of traditional ecological knowledge.
• The fundamental principle that not all of humanity must join our globalized world.
• Hope that alternative ways of being human can persist.

The uncontacted peoples of the Amazon are not relics of the past — they are contemporaries choosing a different path. Their choice to remain outside our interconnected world is perhaps the most radical form of resistance in the twenty-first century. In respecting that choice, we acknowledge that our way is not the only way, that progress has many definitions, and that true civilization might be measured not by what we’ve gained, but by our ability to let others keep what they’ve never lost.

The Nomole have been saying no to our world for centuries. It’s time we learned to hear it. Your role in their story is to have no role. Your place in their forest is no place. The most radical thing you can do is nothing at all.

References

Academic Sources

• Bowman, K.W. (2025). To live unseen and uncontacted: The hidden guardians of the Amazon. Unpublished manuscript.
• Are Indigenous Territories Effective Natural Climate Solutions? A Neotropical Analysis Using Matching Methods and Geographic Discontinuity Designs (Alejo-Echeverría et al., 2021) link
• Fa, J. E., Watson, J. E. M., Leiper, I., et al. (2020). Importance of Indigenous Peoples’ lands for the conservation of terrestrial mammals. Conservation Biology, 34(4), 924–934. link
• Food and Agriculture Organization of the United Nations. (2021). Indigenous peoples’ food systems: Insights on sustainability and resilience from the front line of climate change. FAO. link
• Garnett, S. T., Burgess, N. D., Fa, J. E., et al. (2018). A spatial overview of the global importance of Indigenous lands for conservation. Nature Sustainability, 1(7), 369–374. link
• Nelson, A., de Sherbinin, A., & Pozzi, F. (2007). Toward development of a high-quality public domain global roads database. Data Science Journal, 6, 223–265. link
• Schleicher, J., Peres, C. A., Amano, T., Llactayo, W., & Leader-Williams, N. (2017). Conservation performance of different conservation governance regimes in the Peruvian Amazon. Scientific Reports, 7, 11318. link
• Serrano-Rojas, S. J., Whitworth, A., Villacampa, J., & von May, R. (2022). Indigenous lands safeguard the Peruvian Amazon from deforestation. Environmental Research Letters, 17(9), 094035. link

Legal Documents

• Decreto Supremo Nº 007-2016-MC. Categorización de las Reservas Indígenas Isconahua, Mashco Piro y Murunahua. República del Perú. link
• Ley Nº 28736. Ley para la protección de pueblos indígenas u originarios en situación de aislamiento y en situación de contacto inicial. República del Perú. link
• UN Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples (2007). United Nations. link
• ILO Convention 169 on Indigenous and Tribal Peoples (1989). International Labour Organization. link

This resource was compiled in 2025 as a comprehensive guide to understanding and protecting uncontacted peoples of the Amazon. It is intended for use by policymakers, conservationists, researchers, donors, and anyone committed to protecting the rights and territories of peoples in voluntary isolation. For more information on conservation efforts in areas inhabited by uncontacted peoples, visit Junglekeepers

Note: This document intentionally omits specific geographic coordinates, detailed territorial boundaries, and other sensitive information that could be used to locate or disturb uncontacted peoples. The protection of their isolation takes precedence over academic or public curiosity.