In brief
In Batam, Indonesia, local communities have staged protests against burgeoning data centres that strain the island’s already fragile water supply. Residents claim the cooling systems of the new digital park draw water from reservoirs that once sustained villages and sacred rituals. Indigenous leaders emphasize water as a living spirit tied to ancestral stewardship, urging transparent usage reports and community‑run cooperatives. Without such safeguards, the island’s ecosystems and cultural heritage risk drying out entirely.
On a stormy night in early October, about 300 villagers from Batam’s Bakau Serip blockaded the gates of a new data centre, demanding water for their families. They chanted, ‘Water! Water!’ while wielding plastic bottles and jerry‑cans – a stark reminder that the island’s reservoirs are crumbling under the weight of digital ambition.
Batam—only a ferry ride from Singapore—has been sold as a “digital hub” for cloud and AI firms, but the island has no natural rivers. Its 1.3 million residents rely on six artificial tanks that are already reaching critical levels, and the new cooling systems of data centres consume as much water as thousands of homes.
For indigenous groups, water is more than a commodity; it is a living spirit that ties communities to their land and to ancestral rituals. When chiefs gather in the village square, they invoke ancient prayers for rain and ask that technology’s thirst be tempered by respect for the earth.
Local authorities say they are inspecting usage, while the provincial agency insists the drying reservoirs are a result of a rare El Niño. Yet the residents point to the ‘super’ drought that this year has hit all of Riau, and they mark a correlation between the surge of servers and the fading taps at home.
Across Asia, companies have begun to develop data centres on low‑cost lands, promising energy savings but often overlooking water security. In Batam, the government has demanded that new sites build desalination plants, but many villagers fear even that will heal a different reality—water diverted into tables for machines, not for their kitchens.
To secure a future that sustains both progress and people, experts and indigenous voices call for transparent water‑audit reports, community‑run water cooperatives, and the integration of traditional ecological knowledge into corporate environmental standards.
The protests on Batam’s coast are a clarion call: if data‑centres continue to exist without lived‑in stewardship, the island’s waters—and the cultural lifeblood tied to them—may dry out entirely.
