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The Cosmic Contract: Conservation as a Obligation of Humanity


The story of creation, accounted in various narratives the world, presents a compelling tapestry that illustrates the deep interconnection between humanity and the natural world. From earliest spoken by our ancestors to contemporary interpretations, the narrative of human beings emerging onto the surface of the Earth signifies not merely the rise of a species but the inception of an essential relationship entwined with duty, stewardship, and. This relationship can be conceptualized as a cosmic contract through a series of negotiations among all beings, to the understanding that conservation is not just a but a sacred covenant that must be fulfilled.

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In many indigenous cultures, stories the Earth not just as a backdrop for human but as a entity respect and care For example, the Aboriginal speak of connection to Country, viewing land as a relative with whom they an ongoing relationship. This ancestral perspective emphasizes the that humans emerged from nature and, as such, have an inherent obligation to nurture and protect it. Such narratives suggest that when humanity appeared on Earth, it did so under a set of and conditions crafted through profound dialogues within the community of life—a negotiation that affirmed conduct toward all creatures and environments.

The Conferences of All Beings

Imagining a series of grand conferences where all beings participated in the decision of human existence forth a rich metaphor that resonates with many traditional ecological practices. During these mythical gatherings, animals, plants, and elemental could have come together to discuss the of humanity's presence on Earth. What would ultimately emerge from these would be a binding agreement: a contract reinforcing the concept that humans were not lords over the land but caretakers, entrusted its stewardship.

This metaphorical account aligns beautifully with contemporary terms in international environmental agreements, where nations negotiate treaties to safeguard ecological integrity. However the fundamental principles circulating in these negotiations the essence of indigenous customary laws, which have long recognized the interconnectedness of all life. For instance, many indigenous communities across the globe possess systems of law that emphasize practices and the long-term health of the environment, showcasing wisdom that resonates with today's ecological needs.

Customary Laws and the Ethical Imperative of Conservation

Customary laws serve as embodiments this contract, underpinned by the that action by impacts not only their immediate surroundings but the entire biosphere. These laws, passed down through generations, resonate with an ethical framework that places a moral obligation on individuals to act with reverence towards nature. From the sacred mountains of the Andes revered in And cosmology, the Barrier, ecosystem threat the call for conservation is articulated through stories, rituals, and practices that highlight the intrinsic value of every element within the environment.

By embracing this conservation ethic, we find in a position to fulfill our obligations set out in the cosmic contract This means actively in efforts to protect biodiversity, restore ecosystems, and combat change, all acknowledging the wisdom of indigenous peoples who have long upheld these values.

Conclusion: Filling Our Cosmic Duty

As we the complexities of modern existence, it becomes increasingly imperative to recognize and honor the contract that binds us to the Earth and all its inhabitants. Conservation, therefore, not just a chore or an optional undertaking; it is an obligation rooted in our very being, central to the story of who are and our place within the world. Through stewardship and a commitment to living harmoniously with the natural world, we can begin to fulfill our role as caretakers, ensuring that the of existence honors the sacred agreement crafted at the dawn of time.

In this light, the journey toward sustainability takes on meaning—it is both a return to our roots and a-looking to the intricate web life that sustains us all. To honor this cosmic is to engage in the profound act of remembering that we are all part of the same story, woven together by the threads of life, time, relationship.

The Melanesian People of West Papua: A Holistic Approach to Conservation through the "Melanesian-Way: Spirit-Led Conservation”

by Elder Wewo Kotokay

This is a fascinating and deeply important framework you've presented. The "Melanesian-Way: Spirit-Led Conservation" model, as implemented by the SAPA Institute, represents a profound paradigm shift in both conservation and indigenous development. It moves beyond conventional Western models that often separate culture from nature, and people from their environment.

Let's break down the core components, their significance, and the potential implications of this holistic approach.

Analysis of the Holistic Model

The framework's power lies in its logical, sequential structure, where each phase builds upon the last, and the four pillars of the "1 Tribe" initiative provide a complete socio-political-economic toolkit for sovereignty.


Phase 1: The Foundation of Spirit and Story

This phase is the heart of the model, establishing legitimacy and a non-negotiable cultural foundation.

  • Mapping Spirit Hotspots (Cultural Topography): The term "cultural topography" is a brilliant reframing. It moves the project from a purely "spiritual" or "superstitious" box (as it might be dismissed by outsiders) into the legitimate realm of cultural geography and heritage documentation. This is not just about finding places; it's about creating a cartography of identity. These maps become a legal and advocacy tool, physically demonstrating a tribe's immemorial connection to the land in a language that modern legal systems understand, while simultaneously encoding layers of meaning that are only fully accessible to the community.

  • Restoring the "Story-Houses": This brilliantly reframes the colonial and anthropological gaze on the "Men's House." Calling it a "Story-House" or "Stories House" democratizes its function and elevates it from a simple dwelling to a living library, parliament, and university. It becomes the physical server where the data from the spirit hotspot map is stored, processed, and transmitted. This act of physical restoration is an act of psychological and social decolonization, creating a dedicated space to re-instate intergenerational knowledge transfer that has been disrupted.

Phase 2: Modernizing Governance for Self-Determination

This phase operationalizes the cultural foundation, translating it into the language of state power and economic agency. This is the "modernising customary governance" in action, a clear-eyed engagement with the nation-state and global market.

  • Codification of Customary Law: This is a strategic translation, not a replacement. By codifying oral traditions into a written format recognized by the national legal framework, the tribes are creating a powerful shield. It provides legal standing to challenge land grabs, demand Free, Prior, and Informed Consent (FPIC), and assert jurisdiction over their territories in state courts. This is a direct pathway to formalizing indigenous rights.

  • The "1 Tribe, 1 Map, 1 Customary Law, 1 NGO, 1 Business Entity" Toolkit: This is a masterstroke of institutional design, providing every tribe with the four essential tools of a modern, semi-autonomous entity:

    • 1 Map: The geographical and spiritual mandate (from Phase 1).

    • 1 Customary Law: The internal social and ethical operating system (codified in Phase 2).

    • 1 NGO: The political and diplomatic interface. This creates a formal legal personality to engage with the government, donors, and international bodies, manage conservation funds, and advocate for rights without burdening every individual clan member.

    • 1 Business Entity: The economic engine. This separates cultural and political advocacy from commercial activity. A tribal business entity can own assets, sign contracts, and generate revenue from sustainable enterprises (e.g., eco-tourism, non-timber forest products, carbon credits) in a way that respects the collective land ownership and spiritual values.

The Guiding Philosophy: "Spirit-Led Conservation"

This philosophy is the most radical and transformative element. It fundamentally rejects the Cartesian dualism (separation of mind/body, culture/nature) that underpins much Western environmental thought.

  • From Resource Management to Relational Reciprocity: Standard conservation often views nature as a stock of "natural capital" or "ecosystem services" to be managed. This model posits nature as a community of spiritual subjects, not a collection of material objects. Conservation isn't a project; it's a perpetual, reciprocal relationship of honouring and protecting kin. A forest is not a carbon sink; it is a sacred grove, the dwelling place of ancestors.

  • Self-Determined Modernization: The final paragraph's point is crucial and counters a common critique. This is not about freezing people in a "pre-modern" state. The phrase "navigate globalization on their terms" defines a pathway to indigenous modernity. It’s a selective and strategic integration of modern tools (NGOs, business entities, codified law) to protect and project a pre-existing spiritual and cultural core. They are not being passive subjects of modernization; they are actively using its tools to become "active agents" in shaping their own prosperous, peaceful, and harmonious future, as stated.

This model offers a compelling and replicable "blueprint for living in post postmodern Melanesia," as you aptly put it. It directly addresses the crisis of meaning and ecological collapse by rooting sovereignty in the sacred, structuring agency through modern institutions, and defining prosperity holistically. Its success will be a testament to the resilience and vision of West Papuan communities.

Chairman Andrew McAulay reflects on seventy years of KFBG, shaped by the sacred presence of Kwun Yum Shan, where Nature and spirit dance together

This article was first published in the March/April edition of the magazine 'Resurgence & Ecologist'.

An elder from the highlands of New Guinea once told me that while his people engage with the outside world on its terms, when it comes to biodiversity conservation the real reason they wish to protect ‘hotspots’ is because of the ‘other beings’ who live there. This reference to the overriding significance of the spiritual dimension of Nature can be found throughout the Indigenous world. The healing function of sacred natural places has always been recognised within traditional cultures. Such sites played a fundamental role in the lives of all our ancestors. While the function of such places may not be easy to measure, they can easily be ‘felt’ and their influence identified in myriad external forms – by the discerning soul.

It was with this understanding that I became intrigued with a particular mountain in my birthplace, Hong Kong. Rising to nearly 600 metres, Kwun Yum Shan lies within the grounds of Kadoorie Farm and Botanic Garden (KFBG), a 145-hectare site established in 1956 by the Kadoorie Agricultural Aid Association (KAAA) to help resettle refugees following the civil war in China.

I used to visit the mountain regularly as a child with my great-uncle Horace, one of the founders of the KAAA, but lost touch with it after being sent to boarding school in England at the age of eight. By the early 1990s I was living in a meditation centre in the US, with no desire to return to Hong Kong. When the immigration authorities refused to renew my stay, however, I found myself back home, twiddling my thumbs and looking for a way to be of service. The timing was fortuitous. Consultants had just been hired to establish a new direction for KFBG, providing an opportunity for me to reacquaint myself with the mountain. I agreed to help reinvent the organisation as a centre for Nature conservation and education and, as its first executive director, oversaw the development of programmes spanning agroecology, forest restoration, wildlife rescue and biodiversity research and conservation, in both Hong Kong and South China.

Kwun Yum Shan is named after the Chinese Goddess of Love and Compassion Kwun Yum (Guan Yin in Mandarin). Located in the New Territories on the slopes of Tai Mo Shan, Hong Kong’s highest mountain, facing north towards mainland China and straddling the boundary between two distinct valleys, the summit is marked by several round stone altars dating back more than a thousand years. More recently, a statue of the goddess was installed, featuring an array of symbols both scientific and spiritual. Around the time of KFBG’s 50th anniversary in 2006, we chose to renovate the summit, replacing the former car park with a garden for quiet contemplation, with Kwun Yum moved to a position of prominence.

Geologically, the mountain owes its form to a predominance of quartz, which enabled it to withstand the erosion of its surroundings, remnants of a vast ancient volcanic crater. Its interior is shaped like a honeycomb, allowing air entering through its base to warm as it rises towards ‘hot pot’ vents at the summit, where it emerges as what is known locally as ‘the dragon’s breath’. On cold, damp days the summit can feel like a steam bath, transporting visitors into another realm entirely, though even on ordinary days the site carries a magical aura. According to visiting Indigenous teachers, this is one of Earth’s sacred natural sites, part of a network of places that are energetically connected and primarily responsible for the health of the planet and all her beings. Should the power of such a place become dormant, it can be revitalised and sustained by being ‘fed’ with the presence and reverence of those who visit the site with conscious intention.

It seems no coincidence to me that this historic place of pilgrimage, where ancestors once prayed for health and wellbeing, became the base for a programme that uplifted and empowered hundreds of thousands of impoverished people in Hong Kong’s rapidly expanding post-war population. At the time, the rationale was that the features of the mountain – its range of altitudes, slope directions and microclimates – lent themselves to agricultural and horticultural research. Those same qualities continue to shape its present role, including as a pool for the bioregion’s plants, and a home for a rich diversity of fauna, some rare and endemic. Or might it be said that the special energy of this place manifested a programme characterised by love for humans, a love that has since been extended to all beings, including the ‘other beings’ nourished by the holistic dimensions of our educational work? Is the mountain doing the bidding of those of us who work here, or could it be the other way around?

Certainly my own life seems deeply entwined with this place. Significant moments and inner shifts are often mirrored by on-site occurrences. Synchronistic changes in weather patterns and the timely appearances and unusual behaviour of animals are just some of the ways in which the mountain seems to be forever speaking to a deeper part of me. At the precise time that I discovered breathwork as part of a healing journey from cancer, archaeologists were conducting a discreet investigation of the summit’s central altar when it suddenly caved in, opening a new channel of airflow. As the mountain began to breathe more freely, I trained as a facilitator and began offering breathwork ceremonies as part of what became the Kadoorie Earth Programme, created to encourage a shift in the way we think, feel and relate.

Over the decades, the work at KFBG has continued to unfold in response to this subtle guidance. From regenerative farming and forest restoration to science, arts, education and programmes for adults and school groups of all ages, alongside the evolving Earth Programme, each initiative seeks to cultivate direct experience of the mysterious and awesome reality of our true, interconnected nature. Mindfulness, breathwork, tea ceremony, Nature vigils and other contemplative practices help shift awareness, so that thoughts, words and actions can spring from the source of life and not from the limited ideas of the world and ourselves.

This year we are celebrating the 70th anniversary of this remarkable achievement. We are honouring our founders, Horace and Lawrence Kadoorie, along with all those staff and partners who have lit the way for us. With immense gratitude and love for all beings, we are eagerly hosting our friends and continuing to develop our community.

Here in Hong Kong, we feel fortunate to live in one of the safer parts of our planet, even as we remain mindful that the effects of the polycrisis will eventually touch us all. I can only hope and pray that one of those effects will be a loosening of the cycles of fear and desire that sustain destructive behaviour, allowing us to recognise our interdependence and to reforge the bonds that enabled humans to live with a more integrated and enamoured worldview.

Grounding and inspiring that worldview are Earth’s sacred natural places. It has been my honour to find myself in relationship with one such place, and to be called upon to help steward it back into its full potential, in harmony with humanity. Stay tuned as Kwun Yum’s mission continues to unfold through all of us blessed to be associated with her magical mountain. 

Andrew McAulay is the Chairman of Kadoorie Farm and Botanic Garden and the author of Little Fish, an illustrated book inspired by the mountain Kwun Yum Shan. 

Earthy Governance: How to Learn About Democracy From Indigenous Peoples?

In light of the planetary polycrisis, it is time to challenge the dominant strand of Western thought that asserts only humans possess rights and that other species exist solely for human benefit. In their contribution to the “Deep Democracy” series, Shrishtee Bajpai and Ashish Kothari propose an Earth-centered form of governance. This form of democratic self-organization is based on the idea that all species and nature as a whole have rights.

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“We sit around the fire and listen to stories. I come from Tharaka – the land of bees. Bees are very wise. Bees know how to select plants. Bees came from the sea and from the deep waters. There is a way we came to the land of bees. Our clans are from animals and our relatives are snakes, elephants, monkeys and trees. They are with us when we make decisions,” says Simon Mitambo, from the Tharaka community in Kenya.

For Simon and his community, along with several other indigenous peoples and other local communities across the world, this points to a deeper, wiser, more life-affirming notion of democracy than the one currently prevalent across the planet. It embeds a notion of earthy governance – a form of decision-making that is not centered on humans alone, but encompasses also the rest of nature.

“We are responsible for our self governance and we need to ensure that all are equally heard including the rest of nature. We can’t have that in a panchayat (elected village council) where everything is motivated through party politics,” says Tsewang Gyalson Lachungpa. He is an elder from Lachung, a village nestled in the eastern Himalayas in India’s state of Sikkim, near the border with Tibet. The village sits at an elevation of about 3,000 meters above sea level at the confluence of the Lachung Chu and Lachen Chu rivers.

In light of the planetary polycrisis, it is time to challenge the dominant strand of Western thought that asserts only humans possess rights and that other species exist solely for human benefit. In their contribution to the “Deep Democracy” series, Shrishtee Bajpai and Ashish Kothari propose an Earth-centered form of governance. This form of democratic self-organization is based on the idea that all species and nature as a whole have rights.

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“We sit around the fire and listen to stories. I come from Tharaka – the land of bees. Bees are very wise. Bees know how to select plants. Bees came from the sea and from the deep waters. There is a way we came to the land of bees. Our clans are from animals and our relatives are snakes, elephants, monkeys and trees. They are with us when we make decisions,” says Simon Mitambo, from the Tharaka community in Kenya.

For Simon and his community, along with several other indigenous peoples and other local communities across the world, this points to a deeper, wiser, more life-affirming notion of democracy than the one currently prevalent across the planet. It embeds a notion of earthy governance – a form of decision-making that is not centered on humans alone, but encompasses also the rest of nature.

“We are responsible for our self governance and we need to ensure that all are equally heard including the rest of nature. We can’t have that in a panchayat (elected village council) where everything is motivated through party politics,” says Tsewang Gyalson Lachungpa. He is an elder from Lachung, a village nestled in the eastern Himalayas in India’s state of Sikkim, near the border with Tibet. The village sits at an elevation of about 3,000 meters above sea level at the confluence of the Lachung Chu and Lachen Chu rivers.

Problems of liberal democracy

In making this statement, Tsewang Gyalson highlights the problems of modern day representative or liberal democracy. Such a model of governance relies heavily on elections and party politics, encourages hostility amongst sections of citizenry, favors those with lots of financial and other resources to put into campaigning (who then have to ‘recover’ what they spend through oft-dubious means), and usually ends up centering power in the hands of a few people.

As people like Murray Bookchin and Abdullah Öcalan have highlighted, the nation-state model sustains itself on the logic that nature – and colonized peoples – are things to be conquered, assimilated, dominated, and exploited. This logic was further supported through the capitalist and extractive modernity by asserting that the only way to organize lives is that of a centralized government that could help reach ‘welfare’ to the ‘masses.’ This has been used as a justification for taking over territories of Indigenous peoples and local communities for nationalist goals like ‘development’ and security.

So when someone like Gyalson says “We don’t want to tunnel our ecosystems. We don’t want to dam our rivers. All we have is our rivers, mountains and forests. If we destroy them, we can’t survive. We will be destroyed too” – his worldview comes in direct clash with the dominant, extractive worldview that views nature as a commodity to be destroyed in the pursuit of ‘progress’ (in its modernist, restricted Western sense of increasing material and financial prosperity).

Democratic decentralization

Mohandas (Mahatma) Gandhi and Rabindranath Tagore stressed a lot on the need of Swaraj (self-rule) as a form of democratic decentralization which was a true form of independence. It was not only a political struggle but also a spiritual, economic and ecological struggle.

David Graeber and David Wengrow in their book, “The Dawn of Everything,” describe how indigenous peoples across Turtle Island and Abya Yala (the Americas) show remarkable imagination of organizing and governing societies beyond the nation-state logic. What we in this essay demonstrate is that these alternatives continue to be built and nurtured by several communities in India and the rest of the world.

These offer interesting lessons on how democracy and governance can truly look like. We do this following the approach of not idealizing local communities (given especially that many of them have gender and other inequities) but rather highlighting the experimentation, imagination, ecological wisdom and joy, as well as mastery of the ‘art of not being governed.’

actions from others in human communities, and from lands, mountains, rivers, and ecosystems that the communities inhabit. There is no authority without responsibility. The vision embedded in several of these practices is of building movement, and of struggling and striving for nature’s sovereignty over state sovereignty, by being custodians for territories of life including all creatures and all beings. It is this recognition that uniquely embodies people’s daily life, collective livelihood and seasonal production activities including their institutions. Ceremonies and rituals become part of restoring/regenerating these relationships continuously. Most of us in modern industrial and urban contexts have lost the relationality that nurtures humans and more than human connections. However, earthy governance can only thrive if this relationality becomes part of everyday living.

In radical democracy and earthy governance, institutions of decision-making have collective, democratic processes of deciding how to manage, use, and conserve the commons. The ethics of commons and custodianship is deeply central to such governance. The communities described above display a plurality or diversity of political representation, beliefs, interests and ways of being (including legal and other forms of institutional pluralism) demonstrating pluriversal radical democracies.

An aesth-ethics of life

Another crucial element one can discern in many such practices and worldviews, is the seamless integration of beauty and ethics – an aesth-ethics of life. An aesthetic gaze on nature, seeing the inherent and incredible beauty in its elements and functioning and rhythms, just as much as we see beauty in human works of art, is intricately connected to treating it with respect. Diversity itself becomes an ethic, one that is found abundantly in Indigenous and community worldviews, quite contrary to the homogenizing tendency of dominant and colonial Western ideology.

That brings us to our last but not the least crucial element: challenging a dominant strand of Western thinking, that humans alone are possessed of rights and that other species exist for human use. Instead, earthy governance is built on the understanding that all species, and nature as a whole, are the subject of ‘rights’, or (to use less formal language) are worthy of respect and equal treatment. This clearly articulates imaginative and radically alternative ways of being in the world.

When the Dongria Kondh adivasi (Indigenous) people in the state of Odisha, eastern India were asked if the UK-based company Vedanta could do mining in their hills, their response was that such a decision could only be taken in conversation with the deity of the forested hills, Niyamraja. In doing so, and eventually rejecting the mining proposal, these people were practicing a form of earthy governance that we can all learn from.

Note from the editors: Shrishtee Bajpai’s and Ashish Kothari’s “What Makes Governance Earthy?” will be published by Oxford University Press in the Oxford Handbook of Multispecies Justice later this year.


Shrishtee Bajpai · Ashish Kothari · 17.06.2026 · Deep Democracy

Tuvalu calls for “transformational change” at GEF Assembly

 TUVALU’S Minister for Environment, Maina Vakafua Talia, has urged governments and partners at the 8th Assembly of the Global Environment Facility (GEF) to move beyond gradual reform and deliver what he called “transformational change” to confront climate and environmental crises.

Speaking on behalf of Tuvalu’s government and people, he said the Assembly marked significant milestones as the GEF 8 cycle ends and GEF 9 begins.

Talia framed the meeting as a turning point for global environmental action.

“We are at a critical juncture in our spirit toward the 2030 sustainability targets,” he said, adding that countries must build on this spirit – the spirit of genuine partnership and shared responsibilities.

He said the world is under pressure from funding gaps and ecological decline, and argued that governments must act with greater ambition.

“We therefore must commit to move beyond incremental change to deliver transformational change,” he said.

He also called for deeper use of blended finance, private-sector engagement, and science-based systems change.

“Small island developing states and least developed countries must be treated as especially vulnerable in the development architecture.

“We must guarantee that resilience and sustainable development is inclusive; we cannot achieve global environmental sustainability leaving any country or any community behind.”

Talia pointed to Tuvalu’s own exposure to climate change, biodiversity loss, and land degradation, saying the country experiences the interconnected realities of those crises firsthand.

“The Global Environment Facility, through its LDCF and STAR mechanisms, provides “the financial resources that generate lasting impacts on the ground” and turns commitments into action.”

Looking ahead to GEF 9, Talia said Tuvalu welcomes the new programming direction and urged the Assembly to scale up ambition.

“Let us use the framework, the strategies, and the momentum built here in Samarkand to scale up investments and ambitions to deliver scalable solutions for nature, climate, and pollution,” he said.

“Tuvalu reaffirms its steadfast commitment to continue to strengthen genuine partnership to build a resilient and sustainable planet for generations to come.

Talia thanked the Government and people of Uzbekistan and the city of Samarkand for hosting the gathering, describing the city as “a historic crossroad of culture and enduring symbol of connectivity.”


Tuvalu’s Minister for Environment Maina Vakafua Talia.
Image: IISD/ENB – Kiara Worth


Mundiya Kepanga: The Huli Chief Carrying Papua New Guinea’s Forest Story to the World


Port Moresby| 4 June 2026: Among the most internationally recognised Indigenous voices from Papua New Guinea is Mundiya Kepanga, a customary chief of the Huli people from the Highlands region whose work has linked traditional knowledge, environmental protection, cultural preservation and international dialogue.
Born in the Tari region of present-day Hela Province, Kepanga belongs to the Huli people, one of Papua New Guinea's largest Indigenous groups. The Huli are renowned across the Highlands for their ceremonial wigs, bird-of-paradise adornments, oral traditions and deep connection to the forests and mountains of their ancestral lands.
For more than two decades, Kepanga has travelled extensively across Europe, North America and other regions, speaking in museums, universities, schools and international forums. His presentations draw upon Huli traditions and experiences growing up in Papua New Guinea's rainforest environment. Through these engagements he has become one of the country's most visible cultural ambassadors.
His international profile emerged through a long collaboration with French photographer and filmmaker Marc Dozier. Their work introduced audiences overseas to Huli culture and life in Papua New Guinea. One of the best-known productions, The Reversed Exploration, turned the traditional explorer narrative on its head by following Papuan visitors as they observed and interpreted life in Europe. The documentary was broadcast internationally, including on National Geographic and Canal+.
Over time, Kepanga became increasingly associated with environmental advocacy. His message centres on the relationship between people and forests, drawing from Huli teachings which view the natural environment as inseparable from community life, identity and survival. In speeches delivered around the world, he has described forests as living systems carrying the memory, history and future of Indigenous communities.
His environmental work gained international attention through the award-winning documentary Frères des Arbres (Brothers of the Trees) and its successor Guardians of the Forest: Time for Solutions. The films follow his efforts to raise awareness about the destruction of tropical forests in Papua New Guinea and the significance of Indigenous stewardship. The productions received numerous international awards and brought his message to audiences across Europe and beyond.
Kepanga has also participated in major international gatherings dealing with environmental and Indigenous issues. He contributed to events linked to the Paris climate conference (COP21), appeared at UNESCO forums, and has spoken alongside scientists, educators and Indigenous leaders from other parts of the world. His presentations combine storytelling, humour and traditional knowledge rather than technical policy language, making them accessible to a wide range of audiences.
An equally important part of his work involves cultural preservation. Kepanga has donated complete sets of traditional Huli ceremonial regalia to several museums in Europe, including institutions in France and Switzerland. These collections provide international audiences with an opportunity to learn about Papua New Guinea's cultural heritage through authentic artefacts created by Huli communities.
His influence extends into literature and education. He has authored and co-authored books, contributed to academic publications and inspired children's literature introducing younger generations to Indigenous perspectives from Papua New Guinea. His life story has become the subject of documentaries, educational programmes and public exhibitions.
In 2026, Kepanga's profile received renewed attention in France through activities connected to the exhibition Plumes du Paradis ("Feathers of Paradise") at the Musée du Quai Branly, Jacques Chirac in Paris. The exhibition explores the history, symbolism and global journey of birds-of-paradise, creatures deeply woven into the cultures of New Guinea. Related events included screenings of Guardians of the Forest: Time for Solutions, with Kepanga participating in public discussions.
Today, Mundiya Kepanga occupies a unique place among contemporary Indigenous leaders. He remains rooted in Huli traditions while engaging audiences across continents. His work has helped introduce millions of people to Papua New Guinea's forests, cultures and Indigenous knowledge systems, making him one of the country's most recognised cultural figures on the international stage.
📸 Fondation Prince Albert II de Monaco| Mundiya Kepanga| Marc Dozier
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Suku Togutil (sering juga disebut sebagai Suku Tobelo Dalam)

Suku Togutil (sering juga disebut sebagai Suku Tobelo Dalam) adalah komunitas adat yang mendiami pedalaman hutan Halmahera, terutama di kawasan Taman Nasional Aketajawe-Lolobata, Maluku Utara. Di tengah gempuran modernisasi dan industri ekstraktif, mereka dikenal sebagai salah satu penjaga garis pertahanan terakhir bagi keanekaragaman hayati Maluku Utara.

Bagi Suku Togutil asli yang hidup di pedalaman, pohon bukan sekadar benda mati atau sumber daya kayu. Pohon dipandang memiliki keterikatan magis dengan manusia:

• Simbol Kelahiran: Di wilayah tertentu seperti Baborino, Buli, dan Halmahera Timur, terdapat tradisi unik di mana pohon digunakan sebagai lambang kelahiran seorang bayi. Ketika seorang anak lahir ke dunia, keluarga akan menandai atau menanam pohon khusus untuknya.

• Refleksi Jiwa: Mereka percaya bahwa perkembangan kehidupan sang anak akan selaras dengan pertumbuhan pohon tersebut tumbuh besar, kokoh, serta memberikan manfaat bagi sekitarnya. Merusak atau menebang pohon tersebut dipercaya akan membawa kesialan atau malapetaka bagi pemilik jiwanya.

Suku Togutil dikenal sangat memegang teguh prinsip anti-merusak hutan. Mereka tidak memiliki kebiasaan menebang pohon secara sembarangan.

Secara religi tradisional, Suku Togutil menganut animisme dan dinamisme yang sangat kuat, Alam dipercaya diawasi secara spiritual. Jika mereka merusak hutan atau mengambil hasil bumi secara berlebihan, roh-roh tersebut diyakini akan marah dan memberikan hukuman berupa penyakit, paceklik, atau musibah bagi kelompok mereka.

Suku Togutil menerapkan pola hidup semi-nomaden yang sangat bergantung pada kelestarian ekosistem rimba.

Selain sangat menghormati hutan, Suku Togutil memiliki tatanan sosial yang sangat menghargai kaum perempuan. Perempuan dianggap memiliki peran sakral dalam menjaga keberlangsungan generasi mereka, sehingga keselamatan dan hak-hak perempuan sangat dijunjung tinggi di dalam hukum adat mereka.

Saat ini, keberlangsungan hidup Suku Togutil sedang terancam hebat:

Deforestation akibat Pertambangan: Ekspansi tambang nikel dan industri kayu skala besar di Halmahera perlahan-lahan menggunduli hutan adat mereka. Akibatnya, rantai makanan mereka terputus, sumber air bersih tercemar, dan daerah jelajah mereka makin menyempit.

Karena ruang hidup yang rusak dan gundul, beberapa kelompok Suku Togutil kini terpaksa keluar dari hutan atau mendekati area pertambangan untuk mencari makan, memicu berbagai interaksi dengan masyarakat luar dan pekerja tambang yang terkadang memicu konflik akibat perbedaan bahasa dan budaya.

#caregivers #halmahera #tambang #deforestation #peduli

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