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Fighting Disinformation in Central Halmahera

Monday, September 29, 2025

Communities continue to voice their opposition to mining activities in Central Halmahera. They are now taking the fight to social media.

arsip tempo : 177927506037.

North Maluku residents and members of the Civil Society Solidarity group protest in front of the IWIP office, Jakarta, August 1, 2024. Tempo/M Taufan Rengganis. tempo : 177927506037.

THE sun had just set when a coffee shop at a crossroads in Sagea village, Weda Utara subdistrict, Central Halmahera Regency, North Maluku Province, began filling with young people. Conversations flowed across the tables of Folklore Kopi—the name of the café. One topic dominated: mining operations that increasingly encircled Sagea.

Isnain, the café’s barista, explained that Folklore has long served as a gathering place for Sagea’s youth. “Discussions, workshops, forums,” he said on Thursday, August 28, 2025. It was here that the Save Sagea Coalition—residents’ resistance movement against mining around the village—often met. Sometimes, he added, Folklore became their command post for planning demonstrations.

For that reason, Isnain admitted, it was fair to call Folklore one of the epicenters of youth activism in and around Sagea. The village is part of Central Halmahera’s mining ring, bordering Lelilef and Gemaf villages, which are now the center of nickel production at Indonesia Weda Bay Industrial Park (IWIP).

Awaluddin Iksan, an activist with Save Sagea, said the coalition grew out of a generational struggle. Villagers had been discussing mining since Weda Bay Nickel arrived in 1998. “Since the 2000s, Sagea residents have been restless,” he recalled. “I remember, I was still a kid.” The community’s awareness of protecting the river and the sea is also a tradition passed down through generations.

So when the river’s color changed, or when new information surfaced about the mine’s impact, young people gathered at Folklore to talk. Another common meeting place was a nearby crossroads known as Perempatan Magnet.

Increasingly, though, these conversations extended beyond the village. Notes from the gatherings were shared in coalition chat groups, then circulated on social media. “Usually through Facebook and TikTok,” Awaluddin said. And from there, the posts spread widely.

One viral post in 2023 showed the Sagea River—the downstream of the Bokimoruru Cave underground river—suddenly turning brown. The normally clear water was suspected to have been contaminated with sediment. Residents sounded the alarm both offline and online. “Because it affected our village economy,” Awaluddin said, recalling the moment.

A “Save Sagea” mural opposing the nickel industry of Indonesia Weda Bay Industrial Park (IWIP) in Sagea village, Central Weda, Central Halmahera, North Maluku, August 28, 2025. Tempo/Imam Sukamto

For fishermen like Abdul Rasyid Ali, the river’s pollution hit livelihoods directly. When the murky water flowed into the sea, fish catches dropped sharply. Their fishing grounds had already shrunk since the nickel mines and processing plants began operating. “The waters around Gemaf and Lelilef can no longer be fishing areas,” he said.

In recent months, fresh concerns surfaced. Research by the Nexus3 Foundation and Tadulako University in Palu detected arsenic and mercury in fish caught near Weda Bay. The pollutants exceeded safe limits at various concentrations. “People are now unsure whether to buy fish,” said Rifya Rusdi, founder of the Halmahera Coastal Women’s School and a Save Sagea activist.

But the study, released in late May 2025, was drowned out online by IWIP’s upbeat social media content, especially on TikTok. Rifya admitted that the calls advocated by Sagea residents, along with civil society organizations, had mostly taken place offline, such as through classes, workshops, and demonstrations. News of these actions rarely spread online.

As proof, Rifya pointed out, her college friends often assumed communities in the mining ring area were relatively prosperous. “Many thought we were living well, with lots of money,” she said. Determined to change perceptions, she set out to expand the campaign across social media, especially TikTok, which is popular among youth in Central Halmahera.

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A TURNING point came in mid-June 2025, when Indonesia Corruption Watch (ICW) held a social media content workshop. For Save Sagea Coalition activists, it opened a new channel. Suddenly, their videos about village conditions were reaching thousands. “Through this collaboration, viewership hit the thousands,” Rifya told Tempo on Monday, August 25, 2025.

Until then, online advocacy had relied on activists’ personal accounts. While groups such as the Halmahera Coastal Women’s School, the Fakawele Project, and Save Sagea maintained official pages, their reach was limited. The main problem, Rifya said, was poor account management. So when ICW offered training for Halmahera’s youth, residents requested a special focus on social media.

ICW chose Halmahera as one of its Anticorruption Youth Class sites. According to ICW Communication Coordinator Sigit Wijaya, the choice aligned with their broader campaign on climate corruption. ICW data shows natural resources are among the most corrupt sectors, costing the state Rp13 trillion (around US$776.1 million) in 2022-2023, mostly from mining. “North Maluku is strategic because mining is intense, the environment is fragile, and public awareness must be raised,” Sigit said.

According to ICW, the problems in Central Halmahera are not widely known to the public, even by the residents of Ternate, the nearest major city. The narratives circulating on social media actually highlight the positive side of the mining company. To shift that balance, ICW invited both local and national influencers to its workshops, giving them firsthand exposure to the situation. “They were shocked at how bad it was,” Sigit said.

One result of the training was a video about heavy-metal contamination in fish that racked up about 1 million views. For Sigit, such content provides a vital counterweight to corporate public image campaigns.

It was not just ICW. The North Maluku Mining Advocacy Network (Jatam) also expanded its online presence, recently opening a TikTok account. Previously, they had relied on Instagram and Facebook. “We only realized later that TikTok was being used to polish IWIP’s image,” said Julfikar Sangaji, Jatam North Maluku’s motivator.

For its part, IWIP management said it respects free speech and the right of communities to voice criticism. “All constructive criticism becomes material for evaluating and improving the company’s operational performance and quality,” IWIP said in a written statement to Tempo on Thursday, September 25, 2025.

This article is part of the Disarming Disinformation Program supported by the International Center for Journalists (ICFJ).

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