That afternoon in early July was sweltering around the Wesan River in Nanggouw Village, Sausapor District, Tambrauw Regency. A strong southerly wind was blowing as flames from a plantation began to spread beyond what had previously been considered a safe boundary. In a short time, the flames spread to the brush and parts of the surrounding forest. The residents had no fire trucks or modern equipment. All they had was courage, firewood, river water, and knowledge of the area they were trying to save. A group of young people, together with the local community, acted quickly. They beat down the embers, hauled water, and worked to cut off the fire’s path before it could spread further. The incident served as a reminder that during the dry season, a single small spark can turn into a threat to gardens, forests, rivers, wildlife, and village life.

For the people of Nanggouw, the forest is more than just a row of trees. Within it lie sources of food, water, habitats for wildlife, and the traces of memories passed down through generations. For this reason, the threat of fire is not viewed merely as an environmental issue. When the forest burns, what is also threatened are family gardens, springs, game, fish in the rivers, and the future of the children who will one day inherit that land. Climate change is making that threat even more real. Rainfall patterns are shifting, temperatures are becoming more extreme, and the planting calendars that once served as a guide are becoming increasingly unreliable. The rainy and dry seasons do not always arrive as our ancestors knew them. As a result, traditional farmers face the risks of drought, pest and disease outbreaks, crop failures, and land degradation, including in the coastal regions of Papua.

In recent years, the rainy season has often arrived late, while the dry season has lasted longer. These conditions increase the risk of drought, crop failure, and wildfires. The agroforestry system, which has long been a pillar of livelihoods, remains in place, but communities are beginning to adapt their farming practices to better withstand climate risks. One of the most important forms of adaptation is the ban on clearing land by burning during the dry season. Community leader Yulianus Yekwam explains that people are asked to wait until the transition season or the rainy season before clearing new land. This rule does not mean abandoning tradition, but rather adapting tradition to changing natural conditions.

Knowledge of the seasons, passed down through generations, now coexists with conservation awareness. Through their involvement in climate risk assessments with WWF-Indonesia, the community has come to better understand that the changes they are experiencing are not isolated events. Shifting seasons, longer heat waves, and shrinking rivers are interconnected and require a collective response. Efforts to prevent fires go beyond simply banning burning. Communities are also reviving customary rules to protect areas around rivers. Trees along the riverbanks must not be cut down because their roots help stabilize the soil, retain water, and maintain environmental moisture when the dry season arrives. Along the riverbanks, residents are promoting the planting of bamboo and long-term crops such as rambutan, durian, and matoa. These plants do more than just provide a harvest for families. Their roots and canopies act as windbreaks, water reservoirs, and protect the soil from erosion. By planting them, the community is effectively building a natural defense against drought and fire.

Local knowledge now goes hand in hand with an understanding of climate change. Through various learning processes and climate risk assessments conducted in collaboration with WWF-Indonesia, the community has gained a deeper understanding of the connections between shifting seasons, rising temperatures, decreasing water flow, and the risk of wildfires. Scientific knowledge reinforces the experiences passed down by village elders. Efforts to protect the forest go beyond simply banning burning. Communities also protect areas along rivers by refraining from cutting down trees along the riverbanks. They plant bamboo, durian, rambutan, matoa, and various other perennial plants that help maintain soil moisture, reduce erosion, and ensure water availability during the dry season. Customary laws also protect wildlife and water resources. Sea turtle hunting is prohibited, and the use of certain fishing gear in the river is restricted to ensure fish populations remain stable. For the people of Nanggouw, protecting the forest, rivers, wildlife, and gardens is an inseparable whole.

The experience of the long drought in 1982 remains a collective memory for the community. At that time, it did not rain for months. Crops failed to produce food, rivers dried up, and wildlife struggled to find water sources. That experience served as an important lesson that environmental damage is directly felt by communities whose livelihoods depend on nature. Today, every decision to refrain from burning land during the dry season, to protect trees along riverbanks, and to work together when hotspots appear is part of a strategy to adapt to climate change. These simple steps have proven far more effective than having to restore forests that have already been burned.

The incident at Kali Wesan left its mark on parts of the forest, but it also reinforced the awareness that the village’s safety depends on everyone’s care. A fire may be extinguished in a single day, but restoring the forest takes years. Therefore, prevention is always the best option. Amid increasingly evident climate change, the local wisdom of the Nanggouw community demonstrates that solutions do not always stem from complex technology. Reading the seasons, respecting customary rules, protecting rivers, and caring for forests are forms of knowledge that have proven to maintain the balance of nature for generations. This wisdom is now a vital asset for building community resilience to climate change while ensuring that forests, water, food, and life remain preserved for future generations.