By: Djulfikram (KAoem MUda) and Agetha Lestari*
Deep in the rural Central Halmahera region, morning in Kulo Village began with the sound of birds chirping and farmers hacking their farming tools at the farm. On the edge of Akejira River, housewives washed their clothes & chatted with each other and children ran around at the house yard or swam on the clear water, all while the morning breeze brought home the fragrance of fresh soil and leaves.
The situation of Kulo Village, Maluku. Picture by Fiki, 2025
The journey to reach this village wasn’t easy, as it took four hours across Akejira River on a speed boat, and then walked through the muddy pathway amid the heavy rain and strong wind breeze. As for the village itself, Kulo Village is located in Central Weda Sub-District, Central Halmahera Regency, North Maluku with 56,802 residents (BPS, 2020) and low density rate at around 21 residents per square kilometer.
The Sawai Indigenous Peoples depend on their harvest for their living. Their farms are bountiful with bananas, coconuts, yams, vegetables, and other local plants. Their river hosts plenty of fishes for the community to consume, whereas their forest becomes the main source for sago, the main ingredient for papeda and other foods. A number of people remain actively hunting for deers or other wild animals with spears, bows & arrows, or traditional snares, all of which using the traditional method inherited across generations.
In addition, the social life in this village is very close and warm. Gotong royong (mutual cooperation) becomes the main essence of the village. Every event, house building, or harvest is done together. Negotiation to achieve a mutual consensus becomes the basis for their decision-making which tightens the familial bond and reduces any chance of conflict ever happening.
Furthermore, traditions and cultures flourish in this village. The community frequently conducts a traditional ceremony, followed with traditional music and dance inherited across generations. Traditional knowledge about plants, medicines, weather forecast, and forest ecosystem are highly valuable and taught among them since childhood.
The clean air and abundant water surrounding Kulo Village also make it a very comfortable and healthy place to live in. No engine noises, no polution; only the sound of the nature and a bit of human activities fill in the village, creating the harmony that makes up the heartbeat of the Sawai Indigenous Peoples.
In Kulo, the river, forest, and field are more than just the sources of income, but also home and spiritual space. To live here means to form an eternal harmony between humans and nature, protecting the ecology balance while also preserving the heritage that continues to exist for more than a decade.
Yohanis Koke, the head of the community and the key person of the Kulo indigenous site said, “If the forest disappears, then we’d lose our life. We cannot separate from nature, for nature is the place where our ancestors lived.”
The story of kampong, about nature and history
The settlement of Kulo Village. Picture by Fiki, 2025
The history of Kulo Village dates back to 1911. During that period, a group of Sawai Kamuka community developed a settlement on the riverside of Akejira River and then called it “Kulo” which translates to a place to protect in Sawai language. This name is more than just a geographical naming, as it’s also to honor Lagae Cekel, a sacred figure whom they believe to be the east guardian of Tidore Sultanate as well as a symbol of identity for the culture and spirituality of the Sawai Indigenous Peoples.
According to a story passed down across generations, Lagae Cekel was known as a powerful and wise figure, as well as an expert in 12 traditional languages in Maluku from Tobelo, Galela, all the way to Sawai. The tale told a legendary story about their journey to cross the sea toward Tidore with only a pole, marking their loyalty to the Sultanate and their ablity to overcome natural obstacles. Lagae Cekel passed away deep in the forest of Halmahera and their tomb is believed to be located around three kilometers away from the Kobe Kulo Transmigration area, known as Jere Lagae Cekel.
Every tree, every river flow, and every stone around Jere is considered parts of the living heritage that they must preserve. According to Yohanis, “Jere is a sacred ground. We are not allowed to ruin the forest around it, as it is where our ancestor resides.”
For Kulo residents, protecting the forest is more than just protecting their land, but also protecting their identity, history, and sustainability.
“This is more than mere land, but also our life. If the forest disappears, then the history and spirit of our ancestor will also disappear,” Yohanis continued.
The forest surrounding Kulo also plays a major role as the ‘book of life’ for the Sawai Indigenous Peoples: A place for them to learn about seasons, herbal medicines, hunting locations, and agriculture patterns that have been passed down from generations to generations. Every traditional ritual, from harvesting to a spiritual ceremony, is always connected to the forest and river that empower the community while also strenghtening their relationship with the ancestor.
In other words, Kulo Village is a reflection of harmony between humans and nature as they’re interwoven with history, spirituality, and ecology. Losing their forest is more than just erasing the flora and fauna, but also erasing the community’s relationship with the ancestor and disregarding the cultural values that have survived for over a hundred years.
The shadows of mining looming over and the Indigenous Peoples’ resistances
Akejira River in its current state. Picture by Fiki, 2025
Unfortunately, the peaceful Kulo Village is under serious threat. Since 2020, when Indonesia Weda Bay Industrial Park (IWIP) Corp. expanded their nickel operation to Central Weda, the community began experiencing changes that slowly began oppressing their living space: The river water became muddy, the ground cracked, and the air became dusty. Akejira River, the river that sustained the life of the village for decades, began to change its color for the worse.
“We used to take a bath, drink, and wash our laundry at the river. But now, the water is muddy and smells metallic. We’re afraid that our children would get sick from it,” Yohanis told.
The mining consortium IWIP under Harita Group and Tsingshan Holding Group currently holds captive over thousand hectares of forest in Central Halmahera. The project that they claimed to be the national strategic industrial region is responsible for the 30% of Indonesian nickel export in 2024. On the other hand, this industry expansion causes a serious ecological threat for Central Weda as it destroys the river, forest, and farm field of the Indigenous Peoples.
Around May and June 2025, a huge flood hit Kulo Village. About a meter of flood inundated their houses and farm fields, leaving behind a trail of thick, red mud on the path.
Yamris Koke, a resident in Kulo said, “The water came down so fast without any prior rainfall. We know it wasn’t an ordinary flood, as the mud came from the mine up there.”
Five months later on October 2025, another flood hit them and once again without any sign of rain. The community suspected that the sedimentation of the mining materials at the upstream changed the river flow.
“The river used to be quiet and clear, but now it’s muddy like coffee. Every time we got hit by flood, our farm fields are covered in mud and the fishes are stuck on the surface and die,” Yamris continued.
The data from BPS North Maluku (2022) states that at least 13 villages with a total of 12,986 residents in Central Weda Sub-District are now living side-by-side with the nickel mining area. This area used to be a primary forest and the indigenous land of Sawai Indigenous Peoples where they survive from the non-timber forest commodities such as rattan, resin, and sago.
However, the mining expansion permanently changes the face of Halmahera. According to Forest Watch Indonesia (2024), this province has lost over 11 thousand hectares of forest in the last five years, most of which around the IWIP region. In Central Weda, deforestation reaches 2,300 hectares per year due to the construction of mining roads and ore hoarding areas.
Reflecting on this development, Yohanis said, “The rich ones are those who own the mining, all while we only got mud and diseases. The water which used to sustain our life is now toxic.”
Despite the ever increasing threat from the industry, the Kulo residents refuse to leave. They remain guarding Jere Lagae Cekel, the sacred ground where their ancestor lies resting. Every month, a traditional ritual is held to pray for a balance in nature.
“As long as the forest remains standing, our ancestor is still with us,” Yohanis exclaimed. “If the forest is gone, then the water will disappear as well as our lives.”
Now, amid the noise of the mining machines and the sound of birds chirping that becomes ever increasingly rare, Kulo Village stands as a symbol of silent resistance from the Sawai Indigenous Peoples at the last edge of Halmahera forest. They resist the expansion in their own way: Planting, protecting, and praying. In Jere Lagae Cekel, every ceremony begins with with a simple but meaningful statement:
“Torang protect the forest, for the forest also protects torang.”
*This article is a collaboration between Kaoem Telapak and Djulfikram, KAoem MUda in North Maluku
