TANGGAMUS, Indonesia — For more than a decade and a half, forest ranger Wandi Harmoko has walked the ridges and valleys of Batutegi, a landscape in southern Sumatra. He is one of only a handful of officers tasked with patrolling almost 60,000-hectares (148,300 acres) of forest that is not only ecologically significant but also economically vital to Lampung province. The forest Wandi protects today has been shaped by decades of disturbance. Since the turn of the century, waves of encroachment cleared large areas of forest to accelerate conversion to coffee plantations. Nevertheless, the forests here still harbors endangered wildlife, including Sumatran tigers (Panthera tigris sumatrae), siamang (Symphalangus syndactylus), pangolins (Manis javanica), Sumatran slow lorises (Nycticebus coucang) and sun bears (Helarctos malayanus). The survival and recovery of what remains in Batutegi depend on a fragile collaboration between a limited number of rangers, technology-driven monitoring systems, and social forestry farmers whose livelihoods are tied to the landscape. “What affects me most are the moments when we still encounter forest encroachment,” Wandi told Mongabay after joining his team for a day patrol inside Batutegi’s core zone. “It creates an inner conflict, because sometimes we have to arrest people and see them go to prison, even though we understand their situation.” Wandi Harmoko has patrolled the forest of Batutegi for over a decade. Image by Basten Gokkon. The Batutegi landscape, including a reservoir with the same name, stretches across 81,741 hectares (202,000 acres) jointly overseen by two forest management units (KPH), namely KPH Batutegi…This article was originally published on Mongabay

JAKARTA — Endi sat in front of the door leading to the second deck of a fishing boat at the Nizam Zachman fishing port in Jakarta. As he waited for the vessel to depart, the 42-year-old member shared his experience working at sea. “I only have a primary school education. I tried other jobs, like construction, but I couldn’t handle it. The pay was low,” he told Mongabay. On fishing boats, he said, crew members are paid according to their roles. Ordinary deckhands earn around 25,000 rupiah per day, or about $1.40, while the chief engineer gets up to four times that much. For a two-month voyage, that puts total earnings anywhere from 1.5 million to 6 million rupiah ($84-$334). Endi said that while this is still insufficient to support a family, he remains grateful to have work. This could improve in the near future. In April this year, the Indonesian government ratified the International Labour Organization’s Work in Fishing Convention of 2007 (also known as ILO 188), marking a major step toward strengthening labor protections in the fishing sector. The government now has one year to prepare for its implementation, including revising existing regulations governing the recruitment, training, certification, and management of fishing crews. Overall, the convention seeks to establish minimum standards for occupational safety and health, fair wages, decent working conditions, social security, legal protection, and adequate rest for workers in the fishing industry. Fishing crew members wait for their vessel’s scheduled departure from the Nizam Zachman fishing…This article was originally published on Mongabay

TANGGAMUS, Indonesia — When Sri Atmiatun arrived in the hills of the Batutegi region in southern Sumatra’s Lampung province in 2017, the coffee trees were already there, overgrown and neglected, slowly fading back into scrub. Her uncle had asked her to take over the plot. Sri agreed, trading years of labor on oil palm plantations in the central Sumatran province of Riau. Nearly a decade later, she still walks the same uphill path each morning. Now 45, Sri manages more than 3 hectares (7.4 acres) of land within the 1,400-hectare (3,460-acre) Sumber Makmur social forestry area. Sumber Makmur itself sits on the edge of the more than 80,000-hectare (198,000-acre) Batutegi forest landscape, where some areas are strictly protected while others are managed by communities through agroforestry systems. Under the social forestry program, the land remains state-owned, but local communities like Sri’s are granted the right to manage it for their livelihoods under rules designed to protect the forest and its ecological functions. “I stayed because this land feeds us,” Sri told Mongabay in early March. “If I leave, who will take care of it?” Sri’s story reflects a broader shift. Across the Batutegi landscape, land that was once cleared for coffee is now being restored and managed under Indonesia’s social forestry program. Legal recognition has given farmers access to support and training from the government and private organizations. In return, forest clearing and expansion into protected core areas have been reduced, allowing the forest to remain a safe habitat for…This article was originally published on Mongabay