Women of Toraja: Protecting Sulawesis Water from the Highlands

TheIndonesia.co - In the cool, misty highlands of Toraja in South Sulawesi, water is not just a resource—it’s a legacy. Flowing from sacred forests and ancient rice terraces, these highland springs feed rivers that support thousands downstream. And increasingly, it is Torajan women who stand at the front lines of defending them.

As climate change and land-use pressures intensify, the traditional guardians of water in this mountainous region are reshaping what environmental leadership looks like.

A Landscape Etched in Ritual 

The Torajan people are known for their elaborate funeral ceremonies and striking tongkonan houses. But what’s less known is their deep connection to nature. Forests, or wanua, are central to Torajan cosmology and agriculture. Many of these forests are considered ancestral property, governed by customary law (adat).

Women have always played key roles in managing household water use, cultivating rice fields, and transmitting knowledge of plants and soil. But now, with threats from deforestation and commercial expansion, their role is shifting from caretaking to active environmental defense.

Climate Stress Meets Cultural Heritage

Toraja’s forests have historically acted as “natural dams,” capturing rainfall and feeding a network of springs and irrigation canals. But logging—both legal and illegal—is disrupting this system. Shifting rainfall patterns have made the wet season less predictable, and downstream villages are seeing more frequent water shortages.

“Before, the rivers flowed all year. Now they dry in August,” says Theresia Paembonan, a 58-year-old matriarch in North Toraja. “The trees that used to hold the water are gone.”

Theresia leads a pembinaan perempuan (women’s group) that plants native trees and monitors water flows. Their work is unpaid, informal, and often overlooked—but essential.

From Kitchens to Forest Patrols

In many villages, women have taken it upon themselves to patrol forest edges, report illegal encroachments, and revive neglected springs. They hold monthly gatherings to map water sources and discuss planting cycles. Some are reviving the use of sacred taboos to prevent logging in critical watersheds.

One such group, Mappalili Women’s Forum, has worked with local schools to reintroduce agroforestry techniques and educate youth about watershed conservation.

“These women are doing what the state should be doing,” says Ibu Nurhayati, an environmental researcher from Hasanuddin University. “They understand the land not as a commodity, but as life.”

Government Plans, Grassroots Gaps

The South Sulawesi government has launched initiatives like Program Gerakan Sulsel Menanam (South Sulawesi Planting Movement), aiming to reforest degraded areas. But critics say these programs often overlook local gender dynamics and traditional knowledge.

“There’s a lot of focus on tree planting, but not enough on stewardship,” says Nurhayati. “Women are rarely consulted in planning meetings, even though they manage water on a daily basis.”

Access to funding and training remains limited. While some international NGOs support female-led conservation groups, scaling up remains a challenge without structural backing.

Why It Matters

The stakes are high. Toraja’s springs and rivers feed not only its own terraced fields but also lowland farms and towns across South Sulawesi. As Indonesia confronts a future of climate volatility, the need for resilient water systems is urgent.

Recognizing the leadership of women like Theresia is not just a matter of justice—it’s smart policy. Their intimate knowledge of microclimates, seasonal flows, and land care makes them invaluable in designing adaptive strategies.

A Legacy Worth Protecting

In a small hillside hamlet near Makale, young girls help their mothers weed around saplings planted to protect a spring. One of them, nine-year-old Lina, speaks with the quiet conviction of someone who understands what’s at stake: “If the spring dies, we have no rice. If the rice is gone, everything is gone.”

The women of Toraja are not waiting for saviors. They are planting, teaching, and protecting—one spring, one tree, one ritual at a time.

And as Indonesia debates its environmental future, perhaps the highlands of Sulawesi already hold the answer: start with the women, and start upstream.