In Borneo, defenders struggle to coexist with the last wild elephants

The pachyderm is one of around 1,000 Bornean elephants still in the wild, and the team that put it to sleep is working to protect this endangered species by reducing conflict with local communities.

Once the herd of elephants has moved away, conservationist Farina Othman and her team attach a tracking collar to the animal, which will alert the villagers in the event of an approach. It is essential to the program of “corridors” for elephants crossing a fragmented landscape of forest, palm oil plantations and villages.

The scientist knows these pachyderms individually. “It’s Pigtail,” she murmurs, stroking the trunk of the sleeping elephant, whose characteristic tail has earned it this nickname.

The team works quickly: the effects of the dart wear off, the rest of the horde approaches noisily, and a storm threatens. Samples taken and collar attached, the AFP team and journalists withdrew at the last minute.

There were many conflicts between elephants and operators

Since the 1970s, Bornean elephants have lost more than 60% of their habitat in Sabah state due to logging and palm oil, according to the IUCN, which listed the species as endangered in 2024.

Of the 400 square kilometers of Kinabatangan housing some 160 pachyderms, “only half of this area now constitutes space reserved for elephants,” explains Ms. Farina, director of the local NGO Seratu Aatai.

When animals venture onto private property or into neighboring villages, “conflict is inevitable,” she emphasizes, recalling a recent incursion of around twenty elephants into farms and three villages.

Animosity escalates when these imposing animals, especially the more reckless males, skillfully circumvent electric fences to feast on oil palm trees or saplings.

The creation of corridors changed everything

Based in Sukau, a hamlet on the banks of the crocodile-infested Kinabatangan River, the scientist and her group run an awareness program in plantation schools, distribute information leaflets and have appointed "community wildlife guardians" tasked with keeping away elephants that venture near homes.

“Before, we didn't know how to manage cohabitation with them,” says Firah Kazenn, 21, owner of a homestay in Sukau.

“Elephants were not monitored and many died in conflicts. Now, thanks to the Seratu Aatai unit, they are protected and the community is also actively involved,” he adds.

For Farina Othman, the solution lies in “corridors”, passages connecting the islands of habitat through the plantations. She hopes to convince seven plantations that elephants are “an ecological reality rather than an occasional nuisance.”

An arduous task due to tight economic margins, tempers Muhammad Al Shafieq bin Mustafa, former plantation manager in Sukau who became a specialist in the palm oil industry, to AFP.

“Plantations that engage and agree to collaborate with people like Ms. Farina often benefit neither from the recognition they deserve nor from the financial support they need, particularly from Western palm oil buyers,” he notes.

Industry-funded conservation groups say plantations have made significant progress toward becoming sustainable palm oil producers, but face difficult economic realities.

“It has to be a win-win situation for the planters and the wildlife,” adds Daniel Pamin, head of conservation and sustainable development at the Malaysian Palm Oil Green Conservation Foundation.

Farina Othman, whose work has earned her the nickname "Bornean Elephant Whisperer" and Britain's prestigious Whitley Conservation Prize, says she believes change will eventually come.

Previously, locals used the Malay word “halau,” meaning “to drive out” or “to banish,” to talk about elephants, she explains. "Now we're focused on getting people to say...walk the elephant out."