LocationsHow Indonesian Communities Are Writing Their Own Climate Story
Taking Back Their Future
April 25, 2025
For Cahyono, beekeeping was more than just a livelihood—it was a legacy. Deep in the forests of Kayupuring Village, Central Java, in Indonesia, his bees once thrived, producing honey that sustained his family. He understood the rhythm of the seasons. The flowers bloomed, the bees gathered nectar, and honey flowed.
Then, everything changed.
The flowers stopped blooming when they should. Some months, the heat was unbearable, drying up blossoms too soon. Other times, rains came so violently that entire hives were washed away. The bees became confused. Their numbers dwindled. The honey he had once relied on began to disappear.
“I started beekeeping when I was in third grade, around 20 years ago,” says Cahyono. “However, extreme heat and unpredictable seasons have significantly impacted honey production.”
Cahyono tends to his beehives near his home in Kayupuring. As changing weather patterns affected flowering plants, he began adapting his practices to protect the bees and sustain his family’s income.
Cahyono, like many beekeepers in the region, saw firsthand how the changing seasons were affecting his livelihood. The 2020 heatwave devastated his bees, reducing honey production drastically. Rising temperatures meant that flowering plants providing nectar—especially Calliandra, a vital food source—were no longer blooming as they used to. With fewer flowers, his bees produced less honey, putting his family’s income at risk.
Just a few kilometres away in Tlogohendro, Saumi, a 52-year-old woman farmer, faced a similar crisis. Her cardamom and coffee gardens had long been the backbone of her family’s income. But as temperatures climbed and dry seasons became longer, her harvests declined by nearly half. Without enough income from farming, she turned to mining sand from the river—dangerous, back-breaking work that barely paid enough to survive.
Saumi carries a sack of sand along the riverbank in Tinalum. With fewer farming options due to drought, sand mining became one of the only sources of income for women like her.
Understanding the Crisis
At first, Cahyono and Saumi were sceptical. Climate change was something they had heard about on the radio—something happening in other places, to other people.
But as the Relung Indonesia Foundation team spoke, their experiences began to make sense.
The trainers pointed to the cracked earth, the dried-up flowers, and the vanishing water sources. This wasn’t bad luck—this was climate change.
“In Tinalum, we used to harvest cardamom year-round without experiencing drought,” explains Saumi. “Over the last ten years, temperatures have risen, making it harder for cardamom to grow. The bees struggle, too. We didn’t realize at first that this was all connected.”
Through a series of discussions in mid-2024, villagers began connecting their daily struggles to broader climate patterns. People spoke of rising temperatures, fewer flowering plants, and dwindling water sources. In village-level gatherings across all 13 hamlets, residents came together to talk through their experiences. These conversations helped paint a shared picture of the changes affecting their lives—and what needed to be done.
More importantly, they learned they could do something about it.
The People Decide: A Participatory Process
For as long as they could remember, decisions about the village’s future had been made for them, not with them. But this time, the approach was different.
Instead of imposing outside solutions, the facilitators led a structured participatory process that gave villagers the power to decide.
It started with "Rembug Dusun" - village-wide discussions at the hamlet level. Here, people identified the most urgent climate-related challenges affecting their daily lives. Farmers like Cahyono raised concerns about declining honey production and market access, while women like Saumi spoke about the burden of collecting water during dry seasons.
Residents of Kayupuring gather during a village-level discussion. For many, it was the first time they were asked what climate challenges they faced—and what support they needed.
“I have been mining sand for the past 20 years to earn additional income besides cultivating cardamom,” Saumi explains. “During the dry season, the cardamom harvest decreases due to drought, so sand mining becomes one of the few available options since there are no other job opportunities.”
For years, they watched their land change without understanding why. Then, one day, a group arrived—not to sell anything, not as government officials, but to talk about climate change.
At first, Saumi was nervous to speak up during the village discussions. As a woman, she had never been encouraged to voice her concerns in public meetings. But as she sat among other women sand miners and farmers, she realized their struggles were the same. They wanted better income opportunities, skills training, and access to water. For many women, this was the first time their voices were being heard in the village decision-making process. When she finally spoke, it was a turning point. “I had never participated before,” she recalls. “But we wanted a way to support ourselves beyond just mining sand. We needed new skills.” By the end of the process, nearly one in three participants were women—a significant shift from the past,
Next, focus group discussions brought together different groups—farmers, women, youth, and village officials—to refine these priorities into concrete action plans.
The proposals were debated, ranked, and formally integrated into the Village Work Plan (RKPDes). For the first time, climate resilience can be a funded priority. Many of these priorities—like safer access roads, improved irrigation, and clean water systems—were formally submitted for adoption into the 2025 development plans, ensuring they would be implemented in the months ahead.
“This was a major shift. Climate change was no longer just a topic for meetings—it became part of our governance and budget,” explains a representative from Relung Indonesia.
A Future in Their Hands
What happened in Kayupuring and Tlogohendro is part of a larger shift.
For too long, climate finance had been stuck at the national level, tangled in bureaucracy that was sub-optimally translated at the village level. By the time funding arrived, it was too little, too late, or completely out of touch with local needs.
Now, it is different.
With funding from the Climate Finance Network (CFN) and support from the UK Foreign, Commonwealth & Development Office (FCDO), Relung Indonesia implemented a locally focused initiative that supported participatory planning and budgeting in two villages. The grant enabled Relung to work alongside communities in Kayupuring and Tlogohendro to raise awareness about climate change, facilitate inclusive consultations, and integrate locally identified priorities into official village development plans—strengthening Indonesia’s broader efforts to localize climate action and planning.
With the community in the lead, the submitted 2025 village development plans proposed significantly increased allocations for climate priorities—growing to 35% in Kayupuring and 72% in Tlogohendro. While awaiting formal approval, the fact that these priorities were embedded in the official planning documents showed that villagers’ voices weren’t just heard—they helped shape real decisions.
Relung’s approach showed that when people are trusted to lead, the solutions become more grounded and more sustainable. Local knowledge, lived experience, and community priorities were the foundation of everything that followed.
For Cahyono, this means he can adapt his beekeeping, transport honey safely, and train others.
For Saumi, it means no more dangerous trips to the river. She has clean water, can farm again, and is helping other women create new sources of income.
“I hope that future generations will not have to struggle like we did,” she says. “If we protect our resources, our children will have better opportunities.”
When communities are given the power to decide their own future, resilience becomes more than just a policy.
It becomes a way of life.