The Punan Batu (Cave Punan) tribe, the only known group of Punan hunter-gatherers who remain continuously mobile, struggles to maintain its heritage.
In the remote, verdant heart of Kalimantan, Indonesia, I ventured on a journey to seek out the Punan Batu tribe among the dense rainforests, a community whose existence is deeply intertwined with the fabric of the rainforest they call home. My intention was not to simply observe, but to engage—to understand their struggles, share their untold stories, raise public awareness and call for action to help protect their heritage of deep wisdom that has allowed them to live in harmony with their environment for generations.
Borneo, the third-largest island in the world, is divided among three countries: Indonesia, Malaysia, and Brunei. The Indonesian portion, known as Kalimantan, covers about 73% of the island's area. This region is famous for its rich biodiversity, dense tropical rainforests, and the unique cultures of its indigenous peoples.
Vast areas of rainforest have been replaced by monoculture palm plantations, leading to significant loss of biodiversity. Forests are being cleared not only for palm oil plantations but also for agriculture, infrastructure projects, and urban expansion, fragmenting ecosystems and reducing biodiversity.
Borneo's rich mineral resources, particularly coal and gold, have drawn large-scale mining operations. These operations cause widespread habitat destruction, soil erosion, and water pollution from toxic runoff, which can poison rivers and harm wildlife. Furthermore, as the Borneo rainforest acts as a major carbon sink, absorbing carbon dioxide from the atmosphere, deforestation and forest degradation release tremendous carbon storage which remarkably contributes to global climate change.
To compound the severity of the damage, the combination of deforestation and climate change has made Borneo more prone to forest fires, particularly due to the common practice of "slash-and-burn" clearing, which can spread uncontrollably, creating widespread haze pollution.
Borneo's indigenous tribes are deeply connected to the natural environment and are significantly affected by the forest degradation, with cultures shaped by centuries of living in harmony with the forests and rivers. The largest indigenous group in Kalimantan is the Dayak people, a broad term encompassing various sub-ethnic groups like the Iban, Kenyah, Kayan, Penan and Punan.
The Dayaks traditionally resided in longhouses—spacious communal wooden structures that often accommodated entire extended families. They possess a rich cultural legacy, including traditional body art, elaborate beadwork, and detailed wood carvings. Dayak communities are also renowned for their spiritual practices rooted in animism, which centers on the veneration of spirits inhabiting natural elements such as trees, rivers, and mountains.
The Penan, another prominent group, are semi-nomadic hunter-gatherers who traverse the rainforests. They are among the few communities globally that still maintain traditional, sustainable ways of life, depending on the forest for food, shelter, and resources. Their deep connection with nature has positioned them as key figures in environmental conservation efforts in recent years, particularly in the protection of rainforests.
The Punan, an entirely distinct ethnic group from the Penan, are known for their extensive knowledge of the forest, sustaining themselves through hunting, gathering, and small-scale agriculture. The name Punan has often been used loosely to refer to various previously unidentified or unclassified tribes, such as the Punan Busang, Penihing, Sajau Hovongan, Uheng Kareho, Merah, Aput, Tubu, Bukat, Ukit, Habongkot, and Penyawung."
A campsite of the Punan Batu, one of several they stay at, while roaming the forest and changing locations.
A Punan-Batu woman in one of the caves they use as shelter.
A Punan-Batu man with the traditional wear and the machete, an essential tool for hunter-gatheres while roaming the forest.
Upon meeting our local guide in Tarakan, Rema, a Dayak native from central East Kalimantan, we embarked on a boat journey through the sprawling Kayan Delta, bound for Tanjung Selor. The delta unfolded before us, with wide, meandering channels that braided across the landscape, resembling the outstretched fingers of a giant hand. The following day, we visited the tourist office to secure the official permit granting us access to the rainforest and the territory of the Punan Batu. Later, we were introduced to Eric, our liaison to the Punan Batu people. From Tanjung Selor, our expedition began, heading towards the Sajau riverbank—a gathering place where the Punan Batu interact with nearby communities, engaging in trade and exchanging goods in an enduring relationship of mutual exchange.
The Punan Batu (Cave Punan) is the only known group of Punan hunter-gatherers who remain continuously mobile. The tribe is particularly vulnerable as their survival is comprehensively integrated into the forest ecosystem, relying on its resources for food, water, and medicinal plants. As deforestation reduces their habitat, the Punan Batu lose access to essential resources, and their way of life is further threatened by displacement into settled villages, which often leads to a loss of cultural identity and increased reliance on wage labor or external aid. The tribe, which consists of around 100 individuals, lives semi-nomadically in huts that they build in the middle of the forest and in karst caves in the forest area.
Asut, the eldest and the shaman of the Punan Batu tribe in one of the caves they use for shelter.
Two Punan women with a child and their pets, eastern gray gibbons taken from the forest. Monkey teeth are hanging on the child's necklace, as a sign of a good hunter.
Their divergent status over multiple independent genetic analyses, indicates that the Punan Batu have long been genetically separate from nearby agriculturalists, and have experienced substantial genetic drift likely due to a combination of cultural endogamy and long-term genetic isolation. Based on the limited diversity revealed in the genes of the Punan Batu, they appear to have been isolated for more than 20 generations.
Unlike the Indigenous farmers, who lived in long houses, the Punan roamed the island’s northern rainforest in family groups. Every day, each community consisting of 1 to 5 heads of families enters the forest in search of food. They hunt animals or gather tubers as a source of carbohydrates. Edible plants are collected as the main source of food. They search for bird, squirrels, fish, wild boars, antelopes while also collecting forest products for trade.
In the past the Punan Batu also performed risky work for the Sultan, collecting nests from the caves and honey from treetops, along with rattan and fragrant agar wood. In exchange, the Sultan gave them tobacco, rice and metal tools. It is said that as recently as a few decades back, the Sultanate dynasty treated the Punan as their slaves.
Over decades, the Indonesian government stripped the Punan of their ancestral lands and encouraged them, sometimes forcibly, to settle in ready-built villages. By the 1990s, anthropologists believed that the group’s traditional hunter-gatherer lifestyle had vanished. In 2002, a census of the Punan in eastern Borneo focused only on the villages, because so few nomads were thought to exist.
A boy comfortably sitting on a tree and posing for the camera.
A young girl posing for a portrait.
A child mastering the use of the machete at a very early age
The first Punan individuals we encountered along the riverbank greeted our arrival with perceivable reluctance. After a series of measured discussions, we were allowed to board a canoe and navigate upstream toward the initial outpost of the Punan Batu.
We arrived at the Punan outpost situated near the river’s confluence. While Eric engaged in conversation with his acquaintances, we took the opportunity to interact with the other tribe members and explore the huts they had constructed at the site. To my surprise, the area also featured three large wooden houses, two of which were notably well-maintained and colorfully painted. These structures, remarkably standing this far upriver, were originally built as temporary shelters to facilitate trade. However, the houses were not inhabited by the tribe; they belonged to the tribe’s proclaimed “leader".
Due to their nomadic lifestyle, the Punan Batu tribe constructs small shelters in the forest known as lapo. Each family is responsible for building its own cottage, elevated on tree trunks with a roof fashioned from foliage, its size tailored to accommodate the number of family members.
While these structures may seem rudimentary, they offer a profound sense of comfort and belonging to their inhabitants. When the local government attempted to provide them with permanent housing, the initiative was ultimately abandoned, as the settlements were located far from the forests and essential food sources. For the Punan Batu, the forest is not merely a habitat but the very essence of their ancestral heritage and source of enduring contentment.
Asut with his daughter and granddaughters in their lapo (forest hut).
A couple in their forest hut suiting two.
Three kids with their mother at a small hut in the campsite.
After his conversations with a few members, Eric informed us that we would need to wait for the leader of the group to be allowed to stay with them. The group’s leader, Sandi, preoccupied with his daily tasks in the jungle, was unavailable at the time. After several hours, Sandi returned by canoe, accompanied by his wife, who sat with regal poise. Our initial encounter with him was marked by a noticeable lack of enthusiasm. He explained that we would need to obtain the tribe leader’s consent before to be allowed stay with the group.
Later that evening, our conversation with Sandi and those around him took on a warmer and more candid tone. We also distributed a few basic supplies we had brought from the city. Sandi, intrigued, asked why I felt compelled to help protect the Borneo rainforest, considering such forests do not exist in Europe, where I reside. I responded thoughtfully, which seemed to ease the discussion, creating a sense of mutual understanding. This, in turn, encouraged Sandi to speak more freely about the profound importance of the rainforest to his tribe and their steadfast commitment to preserving their heritage as hunter-gatherers. He also expressed his confidence in AMAN, an organization playing a crucial role in securing legal protection for the Punan Batu's ancestral territory in northeastern Kalimantan.
The following day, we took a canoe and went downstream to the same direction of our departure position to meet the tribe’s leader at his trading post. The apparent leader resides in the city and exerts control over the tribe through dependency and coercion. The meeting was decidedly unpleasant, as the leader asserted his dominance over the tribe and rejected the legitimacy of the local government, denying its authority. He refused to acknowledge the validity of our official permission and insisted that our stay was not sanctioned. When we persisted, showing our formal documentation, the self-proclaimed leader subtly issued veiled threats.
Later, I came to understand that the leader, is a self-proclaimed authority figure, wields near-total control over the Punan Batu people and maintains an almost complete barrier between them and the outside world, thereby preserving his power and influence over every aspect of their lives.
We observed how the tribe's resources were diverted toward gathering raw materials from the rainforest, which were then traded for minimal returns. Rather than relying on their traditional practices of hunting and foraging for their sustenance, they had become dependent on this unequal exchange, further reinforcing their subjugation.
This proclaimed leader ship over the Punan Batu appears to stem from the leader’s ancestral connection to the former Sultanate of Bulungan, which historically exerted control over the Punan people and monopolized forest resources in northeastern Borneo. His family, particularly an older relative named Prince Har, maintained authority over the Punan Batu, even treating them almost as servants, and imposed strict limitations on their movement, preventing them from leaving the forest. This legacy of control has continued, and the self-proclaimed leader, apparently in his late 60s, seems to claim leadership based on this historical relationship.
The Punan Batu, who are highly dependent on the forest for survival, might recognize such an authority due to this historical power structure, despite it no longer being officially in place. However, there are also concerns that the leader exploits the Punan Batu for personal gain, especially given the high-value resources like wood, birds' nests and honey that are harvested from the forest for him.
On a canoe upstream the Sajau river moving between the Punan sites. From the back to the front, Patrick (a Punan who accompanied us on our canoe trips), Eric, Rema and myself.
Eric surrounded by Punan children at the first Punan post we reached.
On the way uphill to one of the caves the Punan use for shelter.
A group of Punan crossing the river while moving between campsites.
A child waiting for his father with the spear in his hand to return to the cave.
Hereditary, the Punan Batu sourced their food with minimal exertion, drawing sustenance from the abundance of their natural environment. However, this long-standing practice appears to be gradually fading. Today, the Punan Batu invest significantly more effort in gathering goods for trade, exchanging them for market products. These items, primarily collected by the tribe’s appointed leader, are bartered for basic provisions such as rice, eggs, and cigarettes.
Like other indigenous tribes of Borneo, the Punan Batu once crafted their clothing from the bark of certain trees, notably the Artocarpus species. Yet this tradition, too, seems to have been forsaken, as most tribe members now wear low-cost modern clothing, including mass-produced footwear.
Additionally, smoking has emerged as a symbol of status among the men, a practice inherited from colonial influences. Many continuously smoke, carelessly discarding cigarette waste throughout the forest.
Lacking awareness of the environmental and personal harm caused by these shifts, the Punan Batu also contribute to the pollution of their surroundings. Non-biodegradable waste from industrialized products—such as plastic bags, food packaging, and cans—noticeably contaminates the pristine river and forest.
Waste under one of the houses at the outpost used for trade.
Foam forming at one of the riversides due to pollution.
Yet the Punan Bahu are facing existential threats—encroachments on their ancestral lands through rampant deforestation and illegal logging that strip away the very forests that sustain them. The destructive march of industrial interests, driven by greed, is relentless. Backed by corrupt systems that prioritize short-term profit over long-term sustainability, these forces exploit the land and its people, leaving the Punan Bahu vulnerable and displaced. Their rights, often overlooked and undermined, are eroded by a network of power that sees them not as guardians of the forest, but as obstacles to be removed.
The demand for palm oil has driven the large-scale clearing of Borneo's forests. Palm oil is used in numerous products, from food to cosmetics and biofuels, making it highly profitable. The conversion of forests into palm plantations destroys habitats for endangered species like orangutans, pygmy elephants, and clouded leopards.
Furthermore, palm plantations severely deplete the soil. Monoculture palm farming reduces the soil's organic matter, leading to nutrient depletion, soil compaction, and erosion. Over time, the extensive use of chemical fertilizers and pesticides further degrades the soil, reducing its water retention and long-term fertility. As a result, this land becomes less productive and more vulnerable to desertification.
Commercial Logging, Legal and illegal for valuable timber, such as Borneo's ironwood, teak, and mahogany, drives large-scale forest degradation. Logged forests rarely recover fully due to poor management and encroachment by agriculture.
Forests are being cleared not only for palm oil plantations but also for agriculture, infrastructure projects, and urban expansion, fragmenting ecosystems and reducing biodiversity.
Mining operations are causing widespread habitat destruction, soil erosion, and water pollution from toxic runoff, which can poison rivers and harm wildlife. Open-pit mining scars the landscape and contaminates rivers, impacting aquatic life and local communities who rely on these rivers for drinking, farming, and fishing.
The Borneo rainforest acts as a major carbon sink, absorbing carbon dioxide from the atmosphere. Deforestation and forest degradation release stored carbon, contributing to global climate change. The combination of deforestation and climate change has made Borneo more prone to forest fires, particularly due to the common practice of "slash-and-burn" clearing, which can spread uncontrollably, creating widespread haze pollution.
This systematic degradation not only threatens their cultural heritage, but also the delicate ecological balance of the region. The Punan Bahu’s intimate connection with nature is being severed by forces beyond their control, leaving them to navigate a world that increasingly values exploitation over conservation.
Hunting for animals has become increasingly challenging, primarily due to the invasion of oil palm plantations and the spread of secondary crops into the forest. Moreover, the vanishing of regular fruiting season in the forest has made the collection of honey scarce and difficult.
As a consequence, the Punan Batu relocate their dwellings every few days in pursuit of game, food, honey, and other forest resources. These relocations vary in scale—some are brief individual movements, while others involve entire families. On average, they travel 4 to 5 kilometers between camps.
Currently, around 35 families, or approximately 103 individuals, from the Punan Batu remain actively engaged in hunting and gathering in the Banau Forest. It is believed that other members of the tribe still reside in more isolated areas of the Bulungan forest region, although these groups have yet to be documented. Meanwhile, some have begun to settle in transmigration settlements.
Sandi, the Punan Batu group leader. It took him a while to openly talk about his tribe concerns and their struggles.
A man holding a spear on his way to the cave.
According to the law, to qualify as a customary law community entitled to claim ancestral rights to natural resources in a specific locality, the community must consist of “people who for generations have lived in a certain geographical area in the Republic of Indonesia because of ties to ancestral natural resources and have traditional governance institutions and an indigenous legal structure in their traditional territory” (Law 39/2014 on Plantation Development, article 1(6)). For that purpose, the analysis of their ancestry, song language, diet, mobility and relationship to their forests was investigated in researches.
The Punan Batu, like other indigenous groups in Borneo, have been part of a broader effort led by organizations like AMAN (Aliansi Masyarakat Adat Nusantara), a Non-Governmental Organization (NGO) to gain formal recognition as Masyarakat Hukum Adat (MHA), Customary Forest. MHA refers to indigenous communities that have a long history of social, cultural, and legal practices distinct from the majority population. Under Indonesian law, MHA communities like the Punan Batu can claim customary land rights if they meet specific legal criteria, which include a strong historical connection to the land, the presence of traditional governance structures, and adherence to customary law.
The Punan Batu tribe was officially recognized as a (MHA) on April 3, 2023. This recognition was formalized through a decree from the Bulungan regent, which aimed to provide legal protection for their rights and their ancestral lands. The process for this recognition began in March 2022, led by the Yayasan Konservasi Alam Nusantara (YKAN), which worked closely with the community to gather necessary documentation and conduct field verifications.
Following our initial meeting with the self-proclaimed leader, we left the forest and returned to Tanjung Selor. There, we shared our experience with Septi, the head of the local tourist office. Septi promptly reached out to the Bulungan regent, who invited us to attend a ceremony celebrating the formal recognition of the Punan Batu as MHA a few days later, in June 2023.
This momentous occasion was attended by local officials, including the Bulungan regent, and marked a significant step in securing the cultural and territorial rights of the Punan Batu. The event not only safeguarded their heritage but also underscored the importance of preserving their sustainable practices.
I had the opportunity to meet the Bulungan regent, Mr. Syarwani, at the Punan Batu outpost, where we engaged in conversation with Rewa serving as an interpreter. Others eagerly joined the discussion, asking many questions about my intentions for the journey. I responded openly and candidly, explaining both my broader activities and my specific purpose in meeting the Punan Batu. Among the group were officials from the Bulungan government, as well as representatives from AMAN and other organizations committed to the protection of Punan Batu territory.
Shortly after the conversation concluded, an AMAN representative privately approached Rewa, instructing her to prevent me from taking photographs—without offering any clear justification After several discussions, I eventually confronted the individual directly, seeking valid reasons for the request. Unable to provide a satisfactory explanation. Consequently, I resumed my interactions with the tribal families and continued taking photographs as planned. This move was intended to keep the AMAN narrative the only one, preventing other views from getting published and challenging it.
Asut holding the certificate of the MHA designation with the Bulungan regent, while the self-proclaimed leader inserts himself into the situation, with his head between the two, striving to assert his presence and validate his supposed authority.
While the MHA designation offers legal protection, enforcement remains a major challenge. Corruption, bureaucratic inefficiencies, and the powerful interests of logging, mining, and palm oil companies often undermine indigenous land claims. In some cases, local governments have undergone immense pressure from industries that benefit from land exploitation to manipulate land-use policies that favor industrial interests over indigenous rights. Even when communities like the Punan Batu are recognized as MHA, illegal activities such as land grabs and deforestation may continue with little to no repercussions for violators.
Through my lens stories, I sought to capture not just their faces, but the spirit of their resistance, their resilience, and the delicate balance they maintain with nature. This project is a testament to the power of storytelling—a means to amplify the voices of those who often go unheard. By bringing their narrative to a global stage, I hope to raise awareness of the urgent need to protect the Punan Bahtu, their land, and their way of life, which stands as a living example of how humanity can coexist with the natural world.
