Slow Flood Recovery Stirs Anger in Far-Flung Corner of Indonesia
One November morning, the river surged to the height of a coconut tree, leaving a 10-foot high heap of logs that devastated nearly every building in the village of Sekumur on Sumatra island, Indonesia. “My house is buried beneath these logs,” stated Fauzi, one of many people facing similar predicaments. Approximately 200 miles northwest, the flood struck a few hours earlier, washing away residences and depositing timber. Landslides resulted in boulders tumbling down. “The flood was what they call doomsday: a torrent of black water filled with debris,” remarked Zulfikar, another survivor. To the north, along the coast, houses constructed after the devastating Indian Ocean tsunami two decades prior were swept away. “This is more ruinous than the tsunami,” expressed Nur Hayati. “The ground where my house once stood has disappeared without a trace.”In late November, over 1,100 individuals were lost on Sumatra as an unusual equatorial cyclone hammered the northern part of the island with days of rainfall. Conservationists argue that the fatal flash floods and landslides were worsened by years of unchecked logging that has created mountains of tropical hardwood logs visible as far as the eye can see. Now, more than a month following the cyclone’s passage, around 400,000 individuals remain displaced, primarily in Aceh Province settled at the island’s northern tip. Numerous survivors report that their suffering has been intensified by insufficient rescue operations, particularly a shortage of heavy machinery to clear away the logs, boulders, and other debris.
In recent days, frustration and resentment have boiled over into protests in the provincial capital of Banda Aceh and other locations, with some local residents waving white flags to express their dire circumstances. “During the tsunami, the water surged, wrecked houses, and then receded,” mentioned Ms. Nur, a resident of the village of Matang Baroh in North Aceh regency. However, this flooding “transformed our village into river estuaries,” she said, adding that “it’s been four weeks and we have yet to receive any governmental support.” President Prabowo Subianto has not labeled the situation a national disaster and has rejected foreign aid from nations including Japan, Malaysia, and the United Arab Emirates. He claims the situation is “under control,” with his administration dispatching warships, helicopters, and planes to drop food supplies into isolated regions across Sumatra.
The government has vowed to take measures against companies operating improperly and to enhance supervision and enforcement on the ground, ensuring better interagency cooperation. The Ministry of Forestry has reported identifying “signs of violations” by 12 firms in North Sumatra and plans to annul around 20 permits covering 750,000 hectares, or nearly 3,000 square miles. Meanwhile, a quiet sense of despair is settling in areas like Takengon, a town in Central Aceh regency. The primary road remains obstructed by landslides, leading to shortages and soaring prices for essential goods. Residents must traverse dangerous ground on foot, while motorcycles become stuck in the mire and aid trucks wait in long lines for passage.
Rudi Prayitna, 44, and his wife, Cut Novi, 43, trudged for four hours from Takengon along a challenging muddy path to obtain rice, eggs, cooking gas, salted fish, and other essentials. “We departed at 7 a.m., and God willing, we’ll be back by 5 p.m.,” Cut Novi remarked. “Prices have at least tripled in our village. We left our three children with their grandparents to come shopping, or we would have nothing to eat.” Her husband shared that their town was immobilized. “We are unable to work, as everything is shut down,” he said. “It has been nearly a month without electricity. We have not received any government assistance.” Mr. Prabowo, a 74-year-old former general, has seen growing public dissatisfaction this year over escalating prices and unemployment, alongside his decision to cut budgets for a free school lunch initiative that critics claim has benefited his military and police allies.
Protests have flared across Aceh recently as well. Last Thursday, some demonstrators displayed banned flags from the Free Aceh Movement—a separatist faction that battled Indonesian military forces for decades until a peace agreement in 2005—close to an aid convoy, sparking a confrontation with military personnel. Amnesty International and various rights organizations have demanded an inquiry into claims of excessive force used against flood survivors; an army spokesperson stated that the incident had been misrepresented on social media and denied any intention to harm civilians. Suraiya Ismail Thaib, a senior advisor to Aceh Governor Muzakir Manaf, noted in a previous interview that the protests arose from disillusionment. “The populace is furious,” she remarked. “They are desperate and urgently require assistance.” She criticized the central government’s refusal to declare a national disaster, which would trigger more aid. “We request foreign assistance solely for a humanitarian purpose. We are not pursuing any political agenda,” Ms. Suraiya asserted.
In Sekumur village, where Mr. Fauzi resides, locals continue to inhabit makeshift tents—not provided by the government—amid heaps of logs, which they lack the tools to clear. One recent Friday, he navigated the debris to pray at the community mosque. Initially, when the Tamiang River overflowed its banks on November 26, locals sought refuge on higher ground, he recalled. The water was rising alarmingly rapid when suddenly their village was inundated with a tsunami of wood. “There was a deafening roar of water and the logs clashing against one another,” he described. “From the hilltop, all we could see was a sea of logs reaching the dome of the mosque.” In Seni Antara, a village in Bener Meriah regency, Mr. Zulfikar also hurried his family to safer ground but returned home to grab documents. However, the water rose so swiftly that he found himself stranded on the roof beam of a neighbor’s house for several hours. The water “tore the wall apart, leaving me clinging for dear life until the neighbors came to my rescue.” Approximately a six-hour drive away, in Kualasimpang City, pools of floodwaters were everywhere last week, along with heaps of overturned, mud-stained vehicles. Hundreds of residents who lost their homes continue to live in makeshift relief tents. Some locals attempted to clear the knee-deep mud that had begun to harden. Evacuees stood along the road with boxes seeking donations, while passersby distributed food, household items, and other essentials from their vehicles.
Fitri Sri Wahyuni, 43, together with 10 family members, still relies on government handouts, which she claims she must clash with other survivors for. “We’ve lost everything. We have to rebuild our lives from the ground up,” she expressed, “but we don’t even know how, nor do we have the means. All we ask is to be treated humanely, at least treat us like human beings,” she sobbed.
Published: 2025-12-31 06:07:00
source: www.nytimes.com
