In the heart of Central Papua, deep within the green folds of Nabire’s hills, something extraordinary happened.
It wasn’t a government convoy or a massive infrastructure project. It wasn’t a celebrity visit or a viral social media campaign. It was, quite simply, the flick of a switch. And with it came light—not just the physical glow from LED bulbs, but a kind of symbolic brightness that signaled hope, progress, and education.
For the children at Elementary School (SD) YPK Elim Berakha Napan, a small elementary school tucked away in the Napan sub-district, the day electricity arrived marked the beginning of a new chapter. Their school, for years shrouded in the dimness of kerosene lamps and limited to daylight hours, is now powered by the sun—literally.
This transformation is part of State Electricity Company Limited (PT PLN)’s “Super Sun” (Super Solusi Untuk Negeri) initiative, a bold project to bring solar-powered microgrids (PLTS mikro) to the most remote schools in Central Papua.
Waiting in the Dark
For decades, communities in Central Papua have lived under the weight of inaccessibility. Roads are rough. Fuel is expensive. Electricity, when it exists, is often reserved for government buildings or health clinics. Schools—especially those in the highlands or distant valleys—have long been left in the shadows.
For teachers like Ibu Maria, who has taught at Elim Berakha for ten years, improvisation was a survival skill. “We planned all our lessons according to the sun,” she says. “Once the daylight faded, learning stopped. We couldn’t charge a phone, let alone use a projector or computer.”
When the government rolled out digital curriculum initiatives a few years ago, rural schools like hers watched from afar. They had tablets—but no way to charge them. They received learning videos—but had no screens to play them on.
Then Came the Light
On July 19, 2025, the tide began to turn. A team from PLN UP3 Nabire arrived with solar panels, batteries, inverters, and a mission. The installation took a day. The transformation? Instant.
“Suddenly we had lights in all classrooms,” said the principal. “We had fans to keep the room cool, power to charge devices, and most importantly, our students could finally access digital learning.”
Elim Berakha is one of 84 schools in five regencies of Central Papua now powered by PLN’s PLTS mikro systems. These microgrids—clean, quiet, and sustainable—bring 1,300 VA of solar electricity to each site. That’s enough to light classrooms, run computers, and keep basic educational equipment operating smoothly.
A Strategy for Remote Education
PLN’s decision to deploy PLTS mikro to schools was not random. It was strategic.
The company has long recognized that traditional electrification—running long power lines through rugged terrain—is expensive and often impractical in Papua’s interior. Solar, by contrast, is decentralized, scalable, and fits perfectly in regions that get year-round sunlight.
The “Super Sun” initiative is not just about electricity; it’s about equity. It’s about ensuring that a child in Dogiyai or Intan Jaya has the same chance to learn with digital tools as one in Jakarta or Surabaya.
“It’s about bringing light to education,” said Rakhel Monika Rumbewas, PLN UP3 Nabire Manager. “When we light a school, we’re lighting a path to a better future for those children.”
Why Did It Take So Long?
The question lingered in many minds: Why only now?
Many local media raised the issue bluntly: “Why did it take decades for solar energy to reach Papuan schools?” The reasons, it turns out, are both logistical and political.
Funding priorities historically centered around Java and Sumatra. Infrastructure in Papua has always lagged—roads, bridges, and telecommunications included. Solar power, despite being a logical solution for off-grid areas, lacked the large-scale, committed programs needed to implement it widely—until now.
The “Super Sun” program represents a shift in mindset: from centralized to localized, from reactive to proactive. It marks a recognition that educational inequality begins with access to electricity.
Learning After Sunset
Since the installation, life at Elim Berakha has changed in small but profound ways.
Classes that once ended at 2:00 PM now continue until late afternoon. Some students stay back to finish assignments under real lights. A few even return in the evening for special sessions—reading groups, remedial help, or digital skills practice.
“We never thought our children would study at night,” says one parent. “But now, they come home talking about videos they watched at school or how they learned to type.”
The principal has started organizing regular movie nights—educational films projected on the wall of the largest classroom. For these children, many of whom had never seen a television, it’s magic.
Community Pride and Ownership
When the PLN team left, they didn’t just hand over a technical manual and wish the school luck. They trained local teachers and community members on basic maintenance: how to clean the panels, check the battery, and monitor performance.
The result? A community that feels ownership—not just of the equipment, but of the opportunity.
“I tell my students: this light is not a gift,” says Ibu Maria. “It’s a responsibility. We must use it wisely, and we must help others who still wait in darkness.”
Looking Forward: Light for All
While 84 schools are now electrified, thousands more still wait. Many lie in even more remote highlands, accessible only by foot or air. PLN has stated its commitment to continue the program, expanding coverage and working with education authorities to prioritize the neediest schools.
Long-term, the goal is clear: total electrification of Indonesia’s educational institutions—especially in its most isolated provinces.
The PLTS micro installations also tie into broader national goals: transitioning to renewable energy, reducing carbon emissions, and building resilient, localized power systems that can withstand climate and logistical disruptions.
But beyond policy, it’s the individual stories that endure.
The Light in Their Eyes
Back in the classroom, under the quiet hum of solar-powered fans, students sit a little taller. The novelty of light hasn’t worn off—it likely won’t for some time. Each switch flicked, each glowing bulb, each tablet that turns on with a full battery feels like a small miracle.
For the teachers, it’s a validation of their struggle. For the parents, it’s reassurance that their children won’t be left behind. And for the children—it’s the future.
Not a distant one. But one they can see, right there, lit up in front of them.
Conclusion:
PLN’s installation of PLTS mikro (solar microgrids) in remote Central Papua schools marks a transformative step toward educational equity. By bringing sustainable electricity to previously unlit classrooms, the initiative empowers teachers, enables digital learning, and gives students access to tools previously out of reach. It’s more than infrastructure—it’s a foundation for opportunity. As the program expands, it lights not only buildings but also the futures of children long left behind, proving that even in Indonesia’s most remote regions, progress can shine brightly.