Nickel is a key component in Electric Vehicle (EV) batteries, and Indonesia has the greatest reserves of it on earth. But extracting it in Kabaena island - where mining companies have been granted licences to 73% of the territory - is destroying forests, contaminating water and blighting the lives of locals, including the Indigenous Bajaua people, known as Sea Nomads.
Sahrul is an activist and the founder of Sagori, a group resisting the damage inflicted by mining on Kabaena island. He’s the second oldest of six children.
“I lived in a village by the shore as a boy. Before school, I bathed in the river by my house. And then in the afternoon after school, I swam in the sea. Me and my friends used to go to the forest and catch birds, like the green pigeon and cockatoo. Every weekend during the festive season, we would wait at the harbour for the fishermen to arrive. They would bring us small fish, which we would grill for breakfast.
It’s the simplicity of village life that I remember most.
My urge to become an activist started when I was in college. I had a very deep connection to documenting art, culture and the history of traditional life on my island.
In 2005, I started community organising. I built an Indigenous platform of community leaders, telling them the island is now under serious threat because of the mining company, who had already started carving borders on our land for them exploit.
I tried to bring corruption cases to the police, to the media, to journalists. But this only led to deals being made with the mining company. That made me angry. I started to give up hope.
And then, out of the blue [the Indonesian environmental and human rights NGO] Satya Bumi asked me to participate in a capacity building session on mining. It gave me hope.
Our land is being destroyed because of the lavish lifestyles of people who are living in cities.
I know that I myself am using minerals for my laptop, for my headphones. I'm not against the mining. I'm fighting government policies that are selling off our island against the national interest.
There are other ways we can pursue economic livelihoods. Such as the tourism village that I helped develop in Tangkeno. I’m pushing for other potentials in Kabaena, such as cashew and palm sugar. They could offer sustainability for our children and grandchildren. Rather than profit for the conglomerates who taste the sweet of our island.”
Yusniar, whose friends call her Nia, is 32-years old and lives in Tangkeno village with her husband and two young daughters. Concessions have been granted to mine in the area.
“I’ve lived here [in Tangkeno village] since 2010 when I married my husband, who was born here. People are friendly. There are smiles all the time. This is a touristic place. People visit, and I can host them, which I enjoy.
I really hope that the mining won’t come because the damage would be devastating. In this village most of our livelihoods are based on farming. If the mine came, our farming would be damaged: our coffee, our cocoa, cashew nuts, and the vegetables we grow in a plot of land in our backyard.
We won’t have clear water anymore if the mining starts. This part of the island is a resource of fresh water which supplies the next village, and our neighbourhood. Other villages [near the mines] have had flooding. In March this year there was so much mud and sedimentation, it was running all over the place. Their houses were damaged. There was no more clean running water, all was destroyed because of the flooding.
My daughters’ school is quite close to the mining concession, and maybe they would have to move the children to another school in another village.
Tamrin is a 34-year-old coffee shop owner and fisherman who was born and raised in Kabaena island. His mother is Bajau, the Indigenous community known as Sea Nomads for their exceptional diving ability. Tamrin has five children, and his coffee shop is named after one of them - his daughter, Salsa.
“The most memorable thing when I was a kid was swimming around here with my friends. I loved the beauty of the coral reefs, the different shapes and colours, the fish that are specific to here. That was when the water was still clear.
When I see the water now, all brown, I get hurt to the bottom of my heart.
My kids cannot feel what I felt when I was a kid because the water is not right. I don’t let them go in the water. On Kabaena, children [used to] learn how to swim at three or four years old. By that age, they already mastered swimming. Nowadays, children who are six or even seven years old cannot fully swim. The water makes their skin itchy.
Fishermen used to be able to earn one million rupiah per day [around €60], but now they’re lucky if they get 200,000 rupiah per day [around €11]. It’s the same story for the seaweed farmers. Their harvests are failing and they believe it’s because of the polluted red water. People don’t really farm seaweed anymore around here, meaning the Bajau are losing important revenue. It means some families can’t afford to buy the supplies needed to attend school, like uniforms and books.
The right to clean, sustainable and clean water is regulated in law. In practice, we don’t get that. Our rights are not automatically respected.
Maybe a few workers get a better life. But in general, I cannot see how mining can have a positive impact on a great number of those in our community. In my eyes, there is no good mining. The devastating impact for the Bajau fishermen is not comparable.
We organise protests to show that we’re resisting. We always resist… I hope to God my children have a future on this Island. I want to keep my family together."
Randi, 21, has worked as an excavator driver for a local mining company since he graduated in geology from vocational school two years ago. He was born in Kabaena and is the second oldest of four siblings.
“I decided to study mining because there are a lot of mining companies in Kabaena. I wanted to stay on the island, so I thought it was a good way of staying here because they are creating jobs. My father is a fisherman. They are grateful that straight after graduating, I joined the [mining] company as a fresh graduate so I could contribute to the family income. I’m proud I can provide support to my family. Praise God.
It's complicated [working for a mining company] I know it's having a devastating damage for the community. I can see the harvests failing. And then there’s the impact on the fish – they are no longer here because of the pollution in the water. I know it's hard. But if we say no, if we resist the mining company, it's impossible because it creates jobs here. It's also brings us minerals for batteries and also stainless steel. It's something that we use on a daily basis. So we cannot say no to them. It's impossible to resist this mining company.
Driving an excavator is dangerous. In the mining sector, I think being an excavator driver is the first, most dangerous position. But I’m given a helmet, and shoes and all the safety gear.
Once I heard about land reclamation after mining. But I don’t know much about it. I never thought of it before. After we do the reclamation, we can plant cashew nut trees so it could be useful for the community. Because if we leave a hole in the ground after the mining, it's not useful for anyone. It's rare that we would discuss this among the people I work with, but I think it is important and is a must for us to have a discussion about this.”
Hannah Mowat is Campaigns Coordinator and Perrine Fournier is a Mining Campaigner at Fern.
For more information, read Perrine's article Nickel mining for electric vehicles is destroying lives in Indonesia.