This song by Indonesian folk duo Endah N Rhesa imagines a world without nature and calls out humanity’s destruction of the natural world. The duo forms part of a collective of Indonesian musicians campaigning on climate and environmental issues.
Mist covers the hills surrounding Talaga Saat Lake and the seemingly endless rows of tea trees at the Gunung Mas tea plantation. The rows of trees are dotted with caping, a wide hat made from woven bamboo or pandan leaves worn by women out harvesting.
We sip tea as we’re welcomed to the plantation. But as beautiful as it is, this place – like many large agricultural estates – is rooted in colonial extractivism, and many workers struggle to make ends meet.
For years, this area was closed to any other type of agriculture, making workers dependent on the yearly fluctuations of tea harvesting.
That changed in the early 2000s, when the local government, community members and civil society created a collaborative management plan, allowing multi-use agriculture in parts of the plantation.
Now, villagers from the nearby town of Cibulao, with support from IPB University in Bogor, plant and harvest coffee trees – redefining this part of West Java as home to agroforestry and ecotourism, which are regenerating the soil and providing workers with multiple income streams.
This is just one example of positive landscape-level change that was discussed during the week-long GLF Asia Community and Action Assembly held in Bogor, Indonesia.
In this story, 11 landscape leaders from across the continent reflect on their community-led work, as well as the shared histories of struggles and youth-led passion for a greener tomorrow.
Their diverse ideas are rooted in their lived experiences, from the highlands of India to the wetlands of the Philippines and enriched through solidarity.
Together, they present a collective vision for flourishing landscapes across Asia – not based in abstract wishing, but rooted in transformative community-led action.
It’s a vision of communities prospering, with food, clean water, education and housing within everyone’s reach. It’s a vision of healthy restored ecosystems that support the people who depend on the land for their livelihood, culture and wellbeing.
The path toward this future is already being forged: some walk it with boots on the ground, restoring forests, soil, rivers and the ocean. Some shape it through policy and advocacy, while others take to the streets, raising their voices against injustice and corruption.
Each step, whether it’s quiet or loud, is part of a collective effort to bring a more just tomorrow.
Asia is home to an extraordinary amount of diversity – both in its people, who make up around 60 percent of the world’s population, and ecosystems that range from deserts to grasslands to jungles and seascapes.
While each country’s context is different, many challenges transcend national borders – including climatic ones such as droughts and floods, as well as social ones like rapid urbanization.
Much of the region is still contending with colonial legacies that have estranged communities from their ancestral lands. This, along with modern development pressures, has created many challenges in preserving traditional land management practices.
“Asia’s vision for a just and thriving future embraces decolonization, intergenerational solidarity and evidence-based stewardship of our last forests and human rights,” says Dikdik Permadi.
“Our Asian strength lies in listening deeply to the wisdom of elders and the courage of youth, transforming colonial legacies into shared resilience.”
Weaving a web of justice involves pushing back against these power dynamics and rewriting narratives of abundance at the grassroots level. This isn’t about being seen as ‘resilient,’ but rather using networks of care and knowledge to propel the powerful work being done.
“Asia is not a continent to be exploited,” says Sumarni Laman. “We are not just ‘third world countries’ whose forests, oceans and minerals can be taken for the sake of others’ sustainability. We are diverse, resilient and full of solutions the world needs.”
But countless communities are coming together in solidarity and transforming their landscapes by pushing forward policy and disseminating environmental education.
In the Malay language, spoken in multiple varieties across Malaysia, Brunei and Indonesia (where it’s known as Indonesian), there’s a concept known as gotong royong – working together across generations, combining the energy and tech-savviness of young people with the wisdom and tradition of elders.
“Youth are reframing resilience by linking personal stories with broader climate realities, showing that abundance can come from care, collaboration and traditional knowledge,” says Asmita Rawat.
Some of this work includes using social media as an avenue for global storytelling, bringing awareness to the prevalence of shared struggles and spreading the word on bottom-up solutions.
Others are using art to spread messages of environmental solidarity and intertwining culture and advocacy.
In Brunei, marginalized communities are using art and social media to create safe spaces and amplify their voices. Elders are also involved in these art projects, creating an engaging way to share knowledge and ideas intergenerationally.
Intergenerational solidarity is highly valued in many Indigenous contexts. For the Dayak people of Borneo, knowledge flows through songs, stories, rituals and everyday practices.
“Our elders read the signs of nature with wisdom that science is only beginning to understand,” says Sarasi Silvester Sinurat. “It is not certainty we hold onto, but continuity.”
For communities to lead when it comes to using and managing their lands, it’s crucial to acknowledge and harness their traditional knowledge. That can include things like knowing the best species to plant, the most effective harvesting techniques and reading the tides and winds – all handed down through generations.
But this knowledge often goes ignored by national and international bodies of power. Communities are often excluded from decision making on land rights and the use of resources, which can leave them vulnerable to land grabbing and extractivism.
Knowledge is most powerful and transformative when it’s multidisciplinary, relational and deeply contextual. Traditional knowledge can be made even more powerful when paired with scientific data and technological advances – but only if this data is rooted in local contexts and serves those who need it.
“The coexistence of these knowledge systems can happen through collaborative platforms where communities, scientists and policymakers exchange information, validate solutions together and integrate traditional practices into formal climate action plans,” says Rawat.
There are countless examples across Asia’s diverse landscapes that show how that knowledge can be strongest when shared – not siloed.
In Vietnam, communities are implementing agroforestry and cultivating native tree species by collaborating with scientists, local authorities and businesses.
“Communities play a vital role by sharing their deep understanding of native species and their adaptability to local climate and soil conditions, growth cycles and optimal planting times,” says Ho Thi Phuong.
“Scientists, in turn, provide technical guidance on seedling propagation, planting and scientific care practices.”
In Nepal, pastoralists in mountain communities have long tracked the timing of glacier snowmelt, changes in meltwater flow into streams and irrigation canals, and shifts in grazing availability at higher elevations.
These herders know where to guide their animals depending on the conditions of the glaciers. They’ve implemented community-managed irrigation systems and forest management as practical, context-specific solutions to meet their water needs.
In Indonesia, Dayak knowledge is carried through song, story, ritual and everyday practice. It informs how they care for the land during wildfires, coming together through communities of care.
“Through bakesah and manyarita (storytelling), karungut (musical storytelling accompanied by Dayak traditional guitar, deder (exchanging rhymes) and nyansana (storytelling by elders to pass down folklore, history and ancestral wisdom), our communities share knowledge in the form of songs and stories passed down through generations,” says Sinurat.
“This is not only tradition, but a living way of preserving identity and resilience.”
A just and thriving future is one where knowledge is not ranked or extracted but grounded, shared and honored.
“Just as the roots of trees are interconnected beneath the earth, so too can we be connected without bias, stereotypes or barriers,” says Novan Aji.
Restoring ecosystems isn’t enough. We must also restore dignity for all cultural identities and ensure their inclusion.
That means transcending national boundaries and recognizing shared vulnerabilities and strengths through diverse approaches: storytelling, hands-on demonstrations, field visits, nurturing youth networks, documenting histories and pairing advocacy with creative outlets.
Care, restoration and justice are important pillars of restoration and conservation, and they ensure that sustainable livelihoods are maintained and the benefits shared among those who need them.
“It’s not just about restoring forests or rivers, but about nurturing emotional, cultural and intergenerational wellbeing,” says Elroy Ramantan.
Leading with care and justice means rejecting historical exploitation and ensuring that communities are heard and their wants and demands drive policy and practice.
As part of the Community and Action Assembly, we witnessed firsthand an incredible example of locally-led restoration in the village of Sukagalih in West Java.
As part of their work in ecotourism and education, local people kindly welcomed us into their homes for several days, showed us their lands and taught us how they’ve begun selling goat meat as a new source of income.
What’s special about this is how they use the money they earn from these goats. Rather than pocketing it, the goat farmers share their profits with orphans and the elderly in their village, ensuring that the community prospers together.
We envision landscapes across Asia flourishing with care woven at the center of economies.
Asia is facing immense pressures that often pit conservation and economic development against one another.
Many forest-dependent communities are tearing down their forests to earn an income – exacerbating the impacts of the climate crisis that they are themselves highly vulnerable to.
In the Indonesian part of Borneo, large companies have been clearing forests, draining peatlands and harvesting palm oil – all of which is severely displacing Indigenous Dayak people.
To defend their livelihoods and wellbeing, Dayaks are sustaining traditional practices and various other traditions that support their livelihoods while maintaining soil fertility, biodiversity and the balance of forest ecosystems.
These include malan (swidden farming), kaleka (Indigenous wisdom in forest and farm management) and beje (a traditional fishpond system where fish are naturally cultivated while trapped in artificial ponds during the dry season).
Rural land rights must be protected across Asia and the globe, and communities must give free, prior and informed consent before any development work is to take place on or around their lands.
Just economies cannot be exploitative; instead, they must prioritize social wellbeing and ecological balance over profit and accumulation by finding alternative livelihood opportunities that benefit people without degrading the planet.
In the western Himalayas, Trisa Bhattacharjee and her team at the Himalayan Restoration Project (HRP) are partnering with youth, students and women across 28 villages to restore degraded areas with native plants and forest corridors.
In 2025, the HRP initiated a restoration economy by hiring 30 local people, including many women who did not have economic independence, to carry out nursery management, restoration, education outreach and monitoring.
They also run two community-based nurseries that employ women and youth from nearby villages – an arrangement made possible through corporate social responsibility (CSR) and other philanthropic initiatives.
For a truly just future for Asian landscapes, all community-led work needs financial backing and strong economic systems that, instead of imposing strict restrictions, actually prioritize the needs, values and timelines of each community.
“We, the generation of the future, need financing to unlock a just transition to low-carbon economies, not simply to meet global targets but to ensure our communities can thrive despite climate disruptions,” says Rizka Afif.
Asia’s landscapes are diverse, but its visions are united: justice rooted in community power, care that crosses borders, knowledge shared across generations and a future built not on extraction but on reciprocity.
“The just and thriving future I envision is one where society prospers, the forests are protected and abundant water resources and healthy soil grace our farmlands, making our harvests thrive,” says Nia. “I want this to be enjoyed by generations to come.”
No single group – scientists, Indigenous Peoples, youth, policymakers or farmers – can build this future alone.
“Transformation does not always begin with data or large-scale strategies,” says Sinurat. “Often, it grows from the smallest acts of care that ripple outward.”
“In moments of climate grief, I find strength in the quiet resilience of my elders. Even when it becomes difficult to farm, even when clean water is scarce, they continue to smile, to laugh and to plant seeds of hope. Beneath their laughter lies sorrow, but also a deep faith that tomorrow can be better.”
Building a better tomorrow means decolonizing policies and inventing new development models. This isn’t a distant dream. It’s already taking shape – seed by seed, story by story, community by community.
And like the interconnected roots beneath the forests we fight to protect, we are supporting one another as we grow this future together.
“We invite the world to remember its roots – before greed, colonization, overconsumption and materialism clouded them,” says Anggi Cahyaningtyas.
“Let’s rediscover what it means to live in balance, in gratitude and in sufficiency to the places we call home.”
This story, curated by the GLF editorial team, represents the work and aspirations of 11 Asian leaders who attended the GLF Asia Community and Action Assembly 2025 in Bogor, Indonesia:
Nia, leader of a women farmers’ group working with Patera Foundation and GLFx Java (Indonesia)
Rizka Afif, deputy director, World Food Forum Indonesia chapter, and consulting member, International Forestry Students’ Association (Indonesia)
Novan Aji, research, policy and advocacy at Indonesian Tropical Institute (Indonesia)
Trisa Bhattacharjee, coordinator, GLFx Himachal, and researcher, Zooreach (India)
Anggi Cahyaningtyas, GLFx Asia Hub officer (Indonesia)
Ho Thi Phuong, lecturer, Vinh University (Vietnam)
Sumarni Laman, head of Indigenous Partnerships, Replant World (Indonesia)
Dikdik Permadi, research officer on agroforestry socio-ecological impact, CIFOR-ICRAF (Indonesia)
Elroy Ramantan, business lead, AICREATIVV (Brunei)
Asmita Rawat, managing director, Youth4Nature (Nepal)
Sarasi Silvester Sinurat, managing director, Ranu Welum Foundation (Indonesia)
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