Memories of Catching Arowana with Bare Hands

KOMPAS/DIONISIUS REYNALDO TRIWIBOWO

Fishing boats float on the shallow waters of Sembuluh Lake on Aug. 30 at an oil palm plantation in Seruyan regency, Central Kalimantan. The lake has receded as usual during the dry season, revealing many fish in its oil-contaminated waters.

Like rice grains in a full granary -- that was how abundant the fish were in Sembuluh Lake, Central Kalimantan, 20 years ago. Locals are praying that the lake will recover.

Twenty years ago, Lake Sembuluh in Seruyan regency was surrounded by a lush forest that served as locals’ source of livelihood. As time went by, the lake became polluted and locals’ joyful days ended.

In Sembuluh II village, water in Central Kalimantan’s largest lake is blackened. Water hyacinths are everywhere, making it difficult for boats to sail through. The lake bottom is no longer visible in almost all parts of the lake. On its edges, fishes lie still.

It was this gloomy view that made Nasrun, 66, and his wife Mulia, 50, both fishers in Sembuluh II village, reluctant to go to the lake. “In the old days, we used to spread our trawl or rengge by the lake’s edge in the morning. In the afternoon, the rengge would be filled with fish -- 3 kilograms, at least. Now, we have to go to the lake’s center and catching just 1 kilogram is considered a good day,” Mulia said.

Since an oil palm plantations were established near the village in 1995, the couple has never used their trawls again. Four fish cages, each with a capacity of 60-80 kilograms, have never been filled again. Their jongkong or wooden boat are anchored on the lake’s edge, unused.

Mulia, Nasrun and Mulia’s oldest son Jurianor, 31, decided to leave behind their fishing days and work at the plantation instead. Mulia takes care of the oil palm trees and Jurianor drives trucks. Nasrun has stopped working in 2010 due to a stroke.

Mulia used to earn less than Rp 1 million (US$68.70) as a plantation worker. In 2012, she quit her job to take care of her husband. Since then, Jurianor has served as the family’s sole breadwinner.

Jurianor said he still remembered how he used to swim in the lake after school or how he used food covers to hunt for arowana and sell them for a lot of money. “In the old days, you could swim and drink the lake’s water and there would be no problem at all. We could catch the tangkalasa [arowana] fish with our bare hands. Nowadays, if you want to eat fish, you buy them first at the market,” he said.

No choice

Locals had no other choice but to work at the oil palm plantation. It was not just about financial pressure. It was more because it was the only work available in the village. Today, 11 plantations and two crude palm oil (CPO) factories surround the lake.

“My father built his house by selling arowanas since 1985. Back then, one arowana was priced Rp 5,000. That was a lot of money back then,” Jurianor said.

Nowadays, when you dip your feet into the lake, it will get blackened and moss may get between your toes.

Central Kalimantan’s largest lake is 7,832.5 hectares in area and 35.68 kilometers long. It was once a force of nature, as mighty as its biodiversity and its surrounding forest.

The Indonesian Forum for the Environment (Walhi) and Save Our Borneo (SOB) once found 63 types of local fishes in the lake, including 29 rare species. Now, six of them are no longer found, including the arowana (Scleropages formosus), the peyang fish (Maruliodes), the susur batu fish, the junju fish, the botia fish and eels.

Apart from the lake being heavily polluted, its surrounding forest has also disappeared as locals practice swidden agriculture. The opening of oil palm plantations also brought in new conflicts.

Farmer and shipbuilder Wardian, 63, said that he lost five hectares of his land. He said that he never sold them but, one, day, his rubber, ironwood and several other trees disappeared, replaced by oil palms.

“I asked the company about it and they said someone sold the land to them. Who did it, I never knew,” Wardian said.

He is still fighting to regain control over his land despite having to deal with the police and the company’s resistance. “Now, I have to buy rice. I can no longer cultivate paddy. Even the forest cannot supply materials for my ships anymore,” he said.

Source of problem

It is not that the locals just give up their land without any fight. They are now too exhausted to keep urging the government to check on the pollution in the lake. Many have seen how the CPO factories dump their waste into the lake, be it directly or to the rivers that flow to it. However, no inquiry or investigation has ever been launched.

Secretary of the Central Kalimantan chapter of the Indonesian Palm Oil Producers Association (Gapki), Halind Ardi said all Gapki members, including those in Seruyan, had gone through strict checks, including on waste disposal. If companies dispose of their waste haphazardly, they will not obtain their right-to-cultivate (HGU) permits.

“The local government has said that there is no pollution by oil palm waste [in Seruyan]. We just follow the rules,” Halind said.

Central Kalimantan Deputy Governor Habib Said Ismail said he had formed a team to investigate the water quality in the lake and its surrounding environment. He reaffirmed that all investment should benefit locals and the environment. He said he would strive to make Lake Sembuluh a charming tourist destination.

On Friday (26/10/2018) in Jakarta, the Corruption Eradication Commission (KPK) arrested 14 individuals, comprising eight lawmakers from Commission B of Central Kalimantan’s regional legislative council (DPRD) and six executives of two palm oil companies in Seruyan, due to alleged bribery. The KPK also seized Rp 240 million in cash and named seven suspects in the case.

Of these seven suspects, four are lawmakers from Commission B of Central Kalimantan’s DPRD. They have been alleged of holding illicit transactions related to monitoring of liquid waste disposal in Lake Sembuluh.

In Sembuluh, corruption and greed has killed not only arowanas as locals’ source of livelihood, but also the future of the local community and environment.