TelusuRI The Afsya community relies on sago as a staple food and a source of income. Traditional ways are often implemented to focus on preserving the blessings of sago trees, which grow abundantly in sacred forests. Recognizing customary forests is crucial for Bariat to achieve food sovereignty through sago.
Text: Rifqy Faiza Rahman
Photos: Deta Widyananda, Rifqy Faiza Rahman, and Mauren Fitri
Sago is often referred to as an alternative food source to replace rice. Some people may also recognize sago in its flour form, which is used as a raw ingredient for various snacks, such as cakes and bread. In fact, several regions in Indonesia, including Papua, have used sago as a staple food for generations.
For Papuans, sago flows as closely as the veins. The philosophy of the sago tree holds profound meaning: its exterior is thorny, but its core is radiant. This symbolizes that, although one’s outward appearance may seem tough and intimidating, the heart remains kind, sincere, and pure— as white as sago starch. The same applies to the Afsya community in Bariat Village, the capital of Konda District. Afsya is a sub-tribe of the Tehit people, the largest indigenous community in South Sorong Regency.
The Afsya community settlement is located within a 3,307.717 hectare customary forest area. The Bariat forest is dominated by peat ecosystems, making it highly susceptible to fires. As a result, fire hazard warning signs from the environmental service are installed in many locations.
Since Bariat is a landlocked village with no direct access to the sea, the community’s livelihood depends on forest resources. Among the many commodities available, sago (Metroxylon sp.) remains their staple food.
During the 2024 Arah Singgah Expedition in Papua, the TelusuRI team stopped by Bariat Village to observe the sago processing process. Adrianus Kemeray (51), the Head of Bariat Village, invited us to enter the sago forest owned by the Nikson Kemeray family. Inside, there was a mature sago tree, about 10 years old, ready for harvest.
The location was not far from the asphalt road connecting Teminabuan (the capital of South Sorong) with the villages in Konda District. We could reach the site on foot from Adrianus’ house, where we were staying. However, due to heavy rain the previous night, the land around the sago tree was flooded up to our calves. Some residents lent us boots, while they themselves usually walked barefoot—despite the scattered sago tree thorns and sharp wood chips. We had to tread carefully on hollow and slippery sago trunks to make our way through.
Mutual cooperation in processing sago
According to Adrianus, sago is the greatest local food gift from God to the land of Papua. Their ancestors passed down extensive knowledge about sago and its uses—all without spending a single penny.
“Sago is a staple food inherited from our ancestors. We protect the sago tree as our biological mother,” said Adrianus. Just as Papuans consider the forest their mother—or mama—because it provides life, the same applies to sago. Protecting the sago hamlet—the community’s term for the sago forest—means ensuring the sustainability of their livelihoods for future generations.
Every part of a sago tree can be utilized. The bark or trunk serves as firewood. Sago fronds can be used as a surface for squeezing sago and as material for house walls. Meanwhile, the leaves, or thatch, can be woven into durable roofing.
From a climate perspective, sago plays a crucial role in maintaining environmental quality. According to research by Bambang Hariyanto, a principal researcher at the BPPT Agro-Industry Technology Center, sago plants can absorb more carbon emissions than other forest plants. Therefore, sago is valued not only as an economic resource but also for its ability to restore the surrounding forest’s environmental conditions.
Furthermore, sago is a carbohydrate-rich food that is just as satisfying as rice. Unlike rice, which takes three to four months to harvest, sago can be processed and consumed on the same day. This is why cooperation, or gotong royong, among families is essential during sago harvesting.
The early stages of sago processing require significant physical effort, which is where the men take the lead. Armed with machetes and axes, adult men work together to cut the base of the sago trunk and ensure it falls in the right direction.
I don’t know exactly what a sago tree ready for harvest looks like. What is clear, according to Adrianus, is that the average age of a mature sago tree ready for harvest is around 10 years, with a minimum height of approximately 15 meters.
Arah Singgah expedition team was asked to step back from the felling site. The men shouted loudly to give a warning.
Bang! A large tree crashed down, falling in the opposite direction from where we had come. Daniel Meres, a neighbor who lives across from Adrianus’ house, swiftly swung his axe repeatedly at the surface of the sago trunk. Meanwhile, those using machetes, such as Nikson, Wilhelmus, and Maurit, were tasked with peeling the sago trunk and cutting off the remaining fronds. Teenagers like Nobili and Yunus were ready to carry and guard our somewhat troublesome belongings—cameras, tripods, backpacks, and mattresses.
A single sago tree cannot be fully processed in just one day. Residents typically open only about a quarter of the trunk at a time for processing. Fredik Ariks is the first to pierce the core of the trunk, or pith—the soft, white inner part of the sago tree.
The special tool used for this process functions like a hammer and is usually made from strong wood, such as merbau, which locals call ironwood. A sharp metal blade is often attached to the tip to make it more durable and efficient in crushing the pith.
Amos Meres, Daniel Meres’ son, takes his turn, working hard to break the pith apart until it becomes loose, like flour. “If you get tired, you can switch with the younger ones,” Fredik said with a laugh.
The work of chopping sago was carried out alternately until it produced enough sago pith to process that day/Deta Widyananda 
After beating the stem until it was crushed, Fredik Ariks (right) poured the sago pith into a burlap sack prepared by Kormince Kemeray. Next, the mothers will be tasked with squeezing the sago and producing sago starch/Rifqy Faiza Rahman
A wise and sustainable ancestral food heritage
Although the land belongs to the Kemeray clan, the sago harvesting and processing process involves families from various clans. This is because a single sago tree can sustain the needs of all 340 Bariat residents for several weeks. In fact, in one day, they only process a few sacks of pith, which is then squeezed into dry sago flour.
Regarding the sago processing process, Adrianus explained, “If many people work together, one large sago tree can be processed in a week. But if only one or two people do it, it can take up to a month.”
Meanwhile, on the side of the split tree trunk, a group of women prepares for the next stage of the work. Maria Kemeray and Kormince Kemeray stand ready, opening two medium-sized sacks to collect the sago flakes. With swift, practiced movements, the two mothers carry the sacks and head toward the Kareth clan’s sago hut, located on the edge of a clear-water river in the peat swamp forest—just about 200 meters from the harvest site.
Instead of using mechanical sago processing machines, the Bariat community still adheres to traditional methods. They use nipah fronds—supported by small tree trunks placed crosswise—as a surface for grinding wet sago.
Although traditional, the working mechanism is remarkable. There is no formal curriculum in schools on how to make it; the knowledge is passed down solely through ancestral stories from generation to generation. The only modern addition is the use of a t-shirt or a wide cloth as a sago filter.
Maria and Kormince gradually transfer the sago flakes into a basin. They mix the sago with an adequate amount of water from the tributary before pouring it over the fronds. Mauren, the head of the expedition team, attempts to assist the women with their work.
“Squeeze it slowly until the water content is gone, then wet it again and squeeze it once more,” Maria instructs, demonstrating the technique. The motion resembles washing and rinsing clothes.
Each sago basin undergoes two or three similar treatments. The sago juice then flows through the filter and collects in the reservoir below. The filtered liquid is later washed, and the starch is extracted. This starch is then processed into dry sago flour.
Each family typically keeps some for their own household needs. The mothers continue their role by preparing sago-based dishes, most commonly papeda. They simply need to catch fish from the river, gather vegetables from the forest, and buy spices from the market to complete the meal.
We had the chance to try other sago-based foods as well. Dorcila Gemnasi, Adrianus’ wife, made us sago pukis cakes topped with grated coconut, which were absolutely delicious. Just two pieces were enough to fill us up, and they tasted even better when paired with a cup of hot coffee.
Beyond personal consumption, dry sago flour is the first derivative product that Bariat residents can sell. Their target market includes local markets and direct customer orders. A single sago tree can produce at least 20 sacks of dry flour, each weighing between 20 and 25 kilograms. The selling price is around Rp200,000 per sack.
This is what Adrianus meant when he spoke about utilizing sago without spending a single penny on capital while still generating income. He emphasized that sago plays a crucial role in achieving food independence in his village.
“We as a community are not all civil servants. Some of us work as manual laborers, while others struggle to find employment altogether. For them, life depends on the sago groves, which they can process to make a living.”
The economic benefits of well-managed and sustainable sago are countless. Parents in Bariat can afford to send their children to school, purchase various food and beverages for their households, and even contribute to building churches and houses.
Left: Amos Meres (black shirt) showed sago ball snacks that ready to eat. Usually, while waiting for the mothers to squeeze the sago, other residents made sago starch dough into balls and grilled them over a fire until the outside was burnt black. Even without any additional spices, sago balls were quite delicious and could fill your hunger. Right: Sago pukis cake by Dorcila Gemnasi, Adrianus Kemeray’s wife. With only sago flour and grated coconut, then grilled over a fire, it was more than enough as a delicious and filling snack. One form of local food creations of Bariat residents/Rifqy Faiza Rahman
Protecting the sago village with traditions and sacred places
So far, there is no synced and valid data on the total area of sago land in Indonesia. However, in a 2018 statement to the Ministry of Environment and Forestry, Prof. Mochamad Hasjim Bintoro, a professor at the Faculty of Agriculture, IPB University, estimated that Indonesia’s sago land covered 5.5 million hectares. Of this, nearly 95 percent—or 5.2 million hectares—is located in Papua.
This makes Papua home to the largest sago reserves in both Indonesia and the world. Unfortunately, according to the chairman of the Indonesian Sago Society (MASSI), less than one percent of these reserves are utilized. The rest is left to rot and decompose without being harvested.
In the Southwest Papua region, South Sorong is recognized as the province’s largest center for sago production and reserves. According to the latest available data from a 2015 study by BPPT researchers Bambang Haryanto, Mubekti, and Agus Tri Putranto, nearly 45 percent (311,591 hectares) of South Sorong Regency’s total land area of 694,221 hectares consists of sago forests, with an estimated sago starch potential of almost 3 million tons.
The six largest sago-producing districts, each covering approximately 10 percent or more of the total area, are Kais (63,797 ha), Kokoda (61,344 ha), Inanwatan (55,483 ha), Saifi (39,630 ha), North Kokoda (34,530 ha), and Metamani (29,400 ha). Meanwhile, Konda (19,641 ha) and Seremuk (7,766 ha) have the smallest sago forest areas.
These figures may have changed over time due to development and land-use shifts, but they remain a crucial reference for understanding the region’s sago potential.
Private sago industries have been operating in Kais and Metamani, while other districts still rely on community-based plantations. However, Adrianus and Ones—local EcoNusa facilitators who accompanied us—hold a different perspective. They believe that the absence of investment from sago processing companies in Konda actually benefits the indigenous community. This is evident in Bariat, where residents are not bound to corporate contracts and remain free to manage their own land, which has been divided according to clan agreements.
I recall an interesting moment the day before our visit to the sago hamlet. After Sunday service at church, Adrianus and several residents invited us to visit one of the village’s sacred sites in the forest, located about 700 meters west of the village. The path led us through a landscape rich with endemic trees and plants, many of which hold great value for the community—whether for medicinal use or for building homes.
At the end of the trail stood a grave, sheltered by a simple zinc roof supported by wooden poles. It was the final resting place of the mother of Yulian Kareth (62), the traditional leader of Bariat Village, who passed away in 2018
“Why is my mother buried here, far from the village? Because this is where she first met my father, who came from another village,” Yulian explained. Their meeting was seen as a matter of destiny, making this land a significant and memorable place.
Yulian then pointed to a large tree with drooping leaves and branches beside the grave. A plaque with the word “Mrasa” was painted in red, marking the site as a sacred place belonging to the Kareth clan. Such naming traditions are usually kept confidential, known only to the community elders. As visitors, we were only given a brief glimpse of the history deemed appropriate to share.
For the Bariat community, this is an important place—a designation given to sites that hold historical and ancestral significance. Sacred or significant places often include ancient trees, burial grounds, or hidden locations deep within the forest. These landmarks play a crucial role in mapping customary land areas, as they serve as key references when applying for legal recognition of customary forests or ancestral territories from the government.
Since June 6, 2024, the South Sorong Regency Government has officially recognized, protected, and respected the customary law communities and territories of seven indigenous groups in South Sorong. This includes five neighboring villages in Konda District: Manelek (Gemna sub-tribe), Bariat (Afsya sub-tribe), Nakna (Nakna sub-tribe), as well as Konda and Wamargege (Yaben sub-tribe).
Currently, in Bariat, the village government authority—supported by the non-profit organization Pusaka Bentala Rakyat—is working to secure recognition at the provincial and ministerial levels.
“As a customary law community, we fiercely protect our staple food source,” Adrianus stated. “We will defend the sago hamlet in the Afsya sub-tribe’s customary forest with our lives because sago is the staple food for our children and grandchildren.”
As a father of three, he also believes that official government recognition carries immense value. A strong and binding legal framework will ensure the long-term security of their land, homes, and traditional territory.
This includes safeguarding important places—sites that play a crucial role in protecting the sago hamlets scattered throughout the forests of Bariat Village. For the Bariat people, sago is more than just a food source—it is sacred.
Translated by Novrisa Briliantina
Cover photo: A sago farmer mother in the forest of Bariat Village, South Sorong/Deta Widyananda
TelusuRI is an Indonesian travel and tourism media platform under the Tempo Digital network. This article was written as a report on the Arah Singgah 2024 expedition in Southwest Papua and Papua. Read more the trip reports at telusuri.id/arahsinggah.
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