Nabire, Central Papua — In the misty highlands of Papua, where the clouds cling to rugged mountain peaks and the rivers flow like silver veins across dense rainforest, a quiet crisis has long gone unseen. More than 205,000 children in Central Papua—a number equal to nearly a third of the province’s population—are growing up without ever stepping foot in a classroom.
But now, a movement is stirring. A movement born not in Jakarta, but from the heart of Papua itself. One that says clearly: no more lost futures.
This is the story of how a young province—still finding its feet since its formation—is taking bold, sometimes painful, but necessary steps to bring its children back into the light of education.
The Wake-Up Call: 205,000 Children Left Behind
It started with a number. A report delivered to the Central Papua Provincial Government revealed that over 205,000 children in the region were out of school. That’s not just a statistic—it’s entire generations slipping through the cracks. In Puncak, in Mimika, in Puncak Jaya—there are children who’ve never owned a pencil, never learned to write their names, and never been asked what they want to be when they grow up.
For Dr. Ribka Haluk, the Acting Governor of Central Papua, this was unacceptable.
“This is not a failure of the children,” she declared at a major regional meeting in Nabire. “It is a failure of the system—and we are going to change that.”
The Turning Point: One Province, One Purpose
The strategy that emerged is what the governor now calls the Total Movement for Education—a coordinated, multi-layered effort not just to reduce the dropout rate, but to find every single child who has fallen out of the system and bring them back.
The turning point came in July 2025, when leaders from Mimika, Puncak, and Puncak Jaya gathered in Nabire for a historic education coordination meeting. These were not just political gestures. It was a war-room strategy session to chart out who was being left behind, where, and why.
And the answers were deeply complex.
In Mimika, poverty remains the root barrier—school may be free, but uniforms, transport, and meals are not. In Puncak Jaya, the terrain is so isolated that some children must walk hours just to reach the nearest classroom. In Puncak, conflict and insecurity have made it dangerous even for teachers to enter some villages.
Despite the differences, the leaders agreed: if this province is to move forward, it must carry its children with it.
A Promise Made: Free Schooling, with Accountability
One of the most immediate outcomes of the meeting was the relaunch of the Free Schooling Program across the three regencies. But officials were quick to point out—this is not just about eliminating school fees.
“This time, it’s about targeted education,” said Yesaya Douw, the Head of the Department of Education for Central Papua. “We’re going directly into communities, identifying who is out of school, and making sure our programs actually reach them.”
From the sweltering coastlines of Mimika to the wind-swept valleys of Ilaga, teams are now moving from house to house, cross-checking school records, listening to parents, and registering children for immediate re-enrollment.
In some villages, temporary classrooms—even tents—have been erected to allow teaching to begin immediately, before new school buildings are completed. In others, volunteer educators are training to become part of a mobile teaching corps, able to travel into the most remote pockets of the province.
“I Want to Be a Teacher Too”
In the village of Gome, nestled in Puncak’s remote interior, 13-year-old Yeselina holds a notebook for the first time. Her tiny hands clutch it as though it’s something sacred. Only weeks ago, she was collecting firewood and helping her mother forage for wild sago. Now, she spends her days in a makeshift classroom, writing her name, singing national songs, and dreaming aloud.
“I want to be a teacher too,” she says quietly, “so I can teach the children who are still out there.”
For the officials spearheading this movement, stories like Yeselina’s are what keep them going. Because this isn’t just about hitting numbers—it’s about restoring identity, dignity, and hope.
Coordination, Not Just Charity
To many observers, what sets Central Papua’s strategy apart is its focus on coordination. In a region where NGOs and donors have long worked in silos, the provincial government is now insisting that every stakeholder—from village chiefs to church leaders, school heads to local police—be part of the education task force.
Governor Haluk insists that this must be a Papua-led solution.
“We are not waiting for solutions to come from Java or Jakarta,” she says. “We know our land. We know our children. And we know what needs to be done.”
To that end, the provincial government is building a centralized database of school-age children, supported by real-time village reports. Funds are being directly channeled to district education departments with strict accountability measures.
And most critically, the province is working with security forces to ensure safe zones for learning, especially in conflict-prone areas.
The Road Ahead: No Illusion, Just Determination
No one is pretending the task is easy.
The roads to some villages are still impassable. The number of trained teachers is still far below national standards. And there are still hundreds of children whose names and locations remain unknown—living in the invisible margins of society.
But for the first time in years, there is a sense of direction. A roadmap. And above all, political will.
“This is not a charity campaign,” said Douw. “It’s a rescue mission for our future.”
A New Narrative for Papua
Too often, news from Papua is dominated by conflict, instability, and despair. But in the hills and valleys of Central Papua, a new narrative is emerging—one written not in violence or protest, but in the voices of children learning to read.
In this story, every child matters. Every community counts. And education is not just a right—it’s the foundation for a more peaceful, prosperous, and just Papua.
As Governor Haluk puts it, “When our children return to school, we restore more than just classrooms. We restore the soul of this province.”
Conclusion
The Central Papua Provincial Government is taking bold, strategic, and community-driven steps to confront one of the most critical challenges in the region—the staggering number of out-of-school children. Through a combination of accurate data collection, district-level collaboration, free and targeted education programs, and deep engagement with local communities, the province is laying the foundation for systemic change.
While the road is long and filled with logistical, economic, and security-related obstacles, the commitment shown by leaders like Acting Governor Ribka Haluk and education officials signals a turning point. This initiative is more than policy—it is a moral and generational mission to restore the rights, dreams, and futures of Papua’s children.
In doing so, Central Papua is not only rewriting its own story—from one of neglect to one of hope—but is also offering a model for inclusive, locally led education reform across Indonesia’s most marginalized regions.