The sun had barely risen over Sorong when the first lines began to form outside the Vocational and Productivity Training Center Hall (BPVP). Some young men wore crisp white shirts, their shoes polished despite the dust on the streets. Others clutched neatly folded résumés inside plastic folders, their eyes betraying a mix of nervousness and hope. Among them was Maria, a 23-year-old fresh graduate from the University of Papua, who had traveled overnight by bus from her village just to attend the event.
“This is my first time joining a job fair,” she said softly. “I’ve applied online many times, but never got a reply. Maybe here, I can talk to the companies directly.”
Maria was not alone. Hundreds of job seekers filled the courtyard, drawn by the promise of more than 1,062 vacancies announced by the provincial government. The event was the Job Fair 2025 in Papua Barat Daya (Southwest Papua), a two-day gathering organized by the Department of Manpower, Transmigration, Energy, and Natural Resources (Nakertrans & ESDM). It was more than just a career expo—it was, for many, a symbol of a new beginning.
A Province with Dreams and Struggles
Papua Barat Daya, Indonesia’s youngest province, carved out of Papua in 2022, is a land of contradictions. On one hand, it is blessed with immense natural wealth—fertile forests, abundant fisheries, and mineral resources. On the other hand, it faces persistent unemployment, limited infrastructure, and a population still adjusting to the rapid pace of modernity.
The statistics tell part of the story. In February 2025, the open unemployment rate (TPT) stood at 6.61%, slightly above the national average. But the figures cannot fully capture the frustration of young graduates unable to find work, or the informal workers scraping by without security.
Governor Elisa Kambu, who officially opened the Job Fair, acknowledged this reality. Standing before the crowd, he declared, “Development is meaningless if it does not touch the lives of the people. This job fair is our real effort to create opportunities, especially for the youth and indigenous Papuans.” His words drew applause, but also quiet reflection from the audience. For them, the challenge was personal.
Inside the Job Fair
By mid-morning, the hall was alive with energy. Booths were neatly arranged in rows, each adorned with banners from companies both national and local. The diversity was striking: plantation firms, retail chains, outsourcing companies, banks, housing developers, hospitality groups, and even publishing houses.
A representative from one of the largest plantation companies explained that they were looking for both field workers and administrative staff. Nearby, Bank Mandiri had set up an information desk, with long queues forming in front of it. PLN, Indonesia’s state-owned electricity provider, was also on site, drawing interest from those with technical training.
For Maria, the scene was overwhelming at first. But soon she found herself speaking with a recruiter from a hospitality group. “They told me they need people who can handle guests, speak English, and be willing to work in different towns. I felt nervous, but at least I could introduce myself,” she said afterward, her eyes sparkling with renewed confidence.
This direct interaction was what made the fair special. Unlike the faceless process of online applications, here job seekers could shake hands, ask questions, and present themselves beyond what a résumé could capture.
The Legal Backbone and Spirit of Otsus
Behind the lively atmosphere, the Job Fair 2025 rests on a strong legal and political foundation. According to Suroso, Head of Nakertrans & ESDM Papua Barat Daya, the event is part of the mandate under Law No. 13 of 2023 on Manpower. More importantly, it embodies the principles of Special Autonomy (Otsus) as outlined in Law No. 21 of 2001, revised by Law No. 2 of 2021.
“Otsus is about ensuring that Orang Asli Papua—the indigenous Papuans—are not left behind,” he said. “Through this job fair, we want to prioritize their participation in the workforce, while still opening opportunities for everyone.”
This priority was visible in practice. Announcements during the event emphasized that companies should actively consider OAP applicants. Several recruiters confirmed that they were instructed to give special attention to local candidates, aligning with the government’s push to ensure inclusivity.
Stories of Determination
Among the crowd was Jonas, a 27-year-old from Tambrauw who had been unemployed since finishing vocational school. He had worked odd jobs in construction but longed for stability. “I don’t want to move to Java just to find work,” he said. “If I can get a job here, I can stay close to my family.”
For Jonas, the fair was a rare chance. He lined up at the booth of a property developer looking for technicians. By the end of the day, he had secured an interview appointment. “It’s not a job yet, but it’s a start,” he smiled.
There were also stories of perseverance. Ruth, a mother of two, came with her husband to explore openings in retail. Having lost her previous job during the pandemic, she had been selling vegetables in the market. “It’s been tough, but we keep trying. If one of us gets hired, it will make a big difference,” she said.
Beyond Numbers: Building Confidence
The Job Fair offered more than job vacancies. It included talkshows and Q&A sessions led by representatives from the Ministry of Manpower (Kemenaker). These sessions covered practical topics: how to prepare for interviews, understanding labor rights, and tips on building long-term careers.
For many participants, especially those from rural backgrounds, this was their first exposure to such knowledge. “I didn’t know much about contracts or minimum wage rules before,” admitted Markus, a high school graduate from Aimas. “Now I understand what to ask if I get hired.”
In this way, the Job Fair doubled as a capacity-building exercise, equipping people not just with opportunities but also with the confidence and awareness to navigate the formal labor market.
The Challenges That Remain
Yet, even amid the optimism, challenges loomed large. Not everyone who attended would leave with a job. Some recruiters admitted that candidates lacked the required skills, especially technical training or fluency in English. Others pointed to the difficulty of logistics—many participants from remote districts struggled to even reach Sorong due to transportation costs.
Observers noted that while 1,062 vacancies sound impressive, they barely scratch the surface of the province’s employment needs. Without sustained programs—vocational training, regular job fairs, and partnerships with businesses—the impact may fade quickly.
Still, officials argued that this was a beginning. “We know one event cannot solve unemployment,” said Suroso. “But it sets a precedent, and we will continue to build on it.”
Looking Toward the Future
The Job Fair 2025 is seen as a blueprint for future policies. If successful, similar events could be held annually, expanding to smaller districts so rural communities are not left out. Vocational schools and training centers may also align their curricula with the needs of companies attending the fairs, ensuring graduates are better prepared.
Beyond employment, the fair could help position Papua Barat Daya as an attractive destination for investment. By showing that the province can provide a workforce and government facilitation, officials hope to encourage companies to expand operations locally, bringing in more jobs and growth.
For indigenous Papuans, especially, the initiative carries symbolic weight. It signals that development is not something happening far away in Jakarta, but something tangible, accessible, and rooted in their own land.
The Closing Scene
As the second day of the fair came to a close, the atmosphere remained vibrant. Some job seekers left with interviews scheduled, others with offers, and many with a renewed sense of direction. The smiles, handshakes, and even the hopeful glances across the hall told a story that statistics alone cannot measure.
For Maria, the young graduate who had traveled overnight, the event ended with cautious optimism. “I didn’t get an immediate job offer,” she admitted, “but one company asked me to come back for a follow-up interview. That gives me hope.”
In the end, the Papua Barat Daya Job Fair 2025 was more than just a marketplace for jobs—it was a gathering of dreams, struggles, and determination. It reminded everyone present that while challenges remain, progress is possible when government, business, and community walk hand in hand.
Conclusion
The Job Fair 2025 in Papua Barat Daya may not solve unemployment overnight, but it marks an important step in turning policy into reality. With more than 1,000 vacancies, active corporate participation, and government commitment rooted in law and special autonomy, the event reflects a vision of inclusive development.
For the youth of Papua Barat Daya, it is a beacon of possibility. For the government, it is a demonstration of responsibility. And for the people, it is proof that opportunity—though long overdue—can finally come closer to home.