Two Decades After the Lapindo Mudflow: Resilience and Hope for New Beginnings

Two decades after the Lapindo mudflow erupted on May 29, 2006, countless affected residents continue to grapple with a life of profound limitations. Persistent economic, health, and environmental challenges remain largely unresolved, casting a long shadow over their existence.

Whether relocated or steadfastly remaining, these individuals tirelessly strive to rebuild decent lives, yet the fundamental sense of security and well-being has not fully recovered to this day.

The afternoon silence hung heavy over Renojoyo Housing, a new settlement predominantly built by former residents of Renokenongo Village, a community swallowed by the Lapindo mud 20 years ago. Before settling in this new housing complex, the people of Renokenongo, united under the Pagar Rekontrak (Renokenongo Residents Reject Contracts) association, endured four years in a refugee camp at Pasar Baru Porong.

Since 2010, approximately 600 families have occupied this self-built settlement spanning about 10 hectares in Kedungsolo Village, Porong District, located roughly 6 kilometers southwest of the mudflow’s epicenter. Here, the mud victims from Renokenongo Village embarked on new lives, transforming what was once rice paddies into a more comfortable residential area for their families.

Among those who moved to Renojoyo housing after receiving compensation from Lapindo is Siti Mukaidah, 49. “I’ve lived here in Kedungsolo, Renojoyo housing, since 2010. It was a new beginning after our village was submerged by the Lapindo mud,” Siti Mukaidah recounted on May 17, 2026.

Siti admits to feeling more at peace in her new home, situated a considerable distance from the mudflow’s embankment. However, securing clean water remains an ongoing endeavor. Daily, residents must purchase water from mountain spring tankers for drinking, while bathing often relies on well water that tends to be less clear. “It’s much better here, even if the water isn’t perfectly clear. So, we have to buy water from tankers,” Siti explained.

Despite receiving compensation from Lapindo for their new homes, the residents do not experience prosperity from this disaster. Siti, like many others, struggles to meet daily needs, as the mudflow also led to job losses. Any available work is undertaken to support their families. “These days, I often babysit neighbors’ children, or care for the sick. Sometimes, if there’s a food order, I help cook – whatever I can do,” Siti shared.

Even with her new house, Siti considers life in her old village far more pleasant. The sense of community and tolerance among residents was strong, particularly in mutual economic support. “The house itself is better now, but economically, it’s vastly different. There are no job opportunities like before; we used to have rice fields, but now they’re gone, and land is scarcer,” lamented Siti, who once taught at a madrasah tsanawiyah in Glagaharum Village and a kindergarten in Renokenongo. She emphasized that she has not received any specific government assistance since relocating as a mud victim, focusing solely on her family’s daily needs.

Several days a week, a group of women gather at a collector’s house to peel garlic, earning supplementary income. This helps families cope with the current global economic challenges. “Here, some also peel garlic, usually in the mornings. It’s a decent addition to the household budget,” Siti noted.

Health concerns loom large for local residents, including Siti. In the past two months alone, six people in her housing complex have succumbed to various illnesses, including breast cancer, liver cancer, thyroid cancer, and nasal cancer. Some hesitated to seek treatment due to financial constraints, while others opted for herbal remedies and minimal care. “Some used herbal medicine, some went to the hospital but passed away before full treatment, some refused hospitalization because no one could accompany them, and some sought minimal treatment due to economic factors,” Siti elaborated.

There is no official medical explanation linking these illnesses and deaths to poor environmental conditions, especially proximity to the mudflow site. Siti stated that initially, residents were unaware of the symptoms, which eventually worsened. These health issues became apparent after residents relocated from the Pasar Baru Porong camp to Kedungsolo Village around 2010. “Perhaps it’s also from unhealthy air, but we don’t know for sure. It was only after everyone had moved that these various illnesses surfaced,” she observed.

The persistently spewing, foul-smelling hot mud is a compelling reason for mudflow victims to steer clear of the embankment area. Another resident, Suri Wahono, recounted his journey in the new settlement after leaving the Pasar Baru Porong camp. His anxieties gradually diminished after moving into his new home in Kedungsolo Village, Renojoyo housing.

The constant apprehension of mud overflows that once plagued him is no longer present, though the pungent odor still occasionally wafts into his settlement. “Sometimes, the smell can still be detected from this distance, but it’s much better than living in the refugee camp,” Wahono continued.

Despite having to restart his life, Suri Wahono is grateful to have revived his craft after a temporary halt. Previously a silver artisan in Renokenongo Village, his jewelry had even reached markets in Bali. However, his business stumbled again with the onset of the COVID-19 pandemic and the subsequent economic crisis, which inflated gold prices and, consequently, silver raw material costs. This forced Suri Wahono to shift from silver to brass craftsmanship, which uses more affordable raw materials. “Initially, it was silver jewelry. Because prices became too high, I switched to brass, which has cheaper raw materials,” Wahono explained.

A small 2×3 meter room next to his house now serves as Wahono’s workshop. While he previously employed several workers, he now works alone to control production costs. Slowly but surely, the Bali market is showing renewed vigor, helping to revive his family’s economy. “Now I work alone to keep costs down,” he said.

Muna Ariyanti, 49, a resident of Mindi Village, tells a different story. Located not far from the mudflow’s epicenter, southwest of the Lapindo mud embankment, Mindi Village falls within the officially impacted area, less than 100 meters from the dike. Most residents were relocated as the area was designated a disaster-prone zone due to ground subsidence and potential new eruptions.

Nevertheless, Muna Ariyanti, along with dozens of other residents, remains in her home near Porong Station. She chose not to sell her small house because it accommodates four families, and the proceeds from its sale would be insufficient to purchase a new home for all of them. “The house is small, but four families live in it. If we sold it and divided the money, it wouldn’t be enough to buy a new house,” Muna explained on Sunday, May 24, 2026.

The administrative consequence of most Mindi residents (from the west and south of the dike) moving to various unspecified locations is that those who remained are officially recorded as having moved to Porong Village. These families, comprising 20 households and approximately 60 individuals across 11 homes, now reside in a forgotten “ghost town” seemingly neglected by local government. The damaged road in front of the station remains unrepaired, creating puddles after every rainfall. “The road in front of Porong Station has been damaged for a long time and hasn’t been fixed, even though we’ve reported it,” Muna lamented.

Muna works daily as a motorbike parking attendant in front of her house, about 30 meters from Porong Station. The station remains busy with passengers arriving and departing by train, many of whom entrust their motorbikes to her care, coming from areas like Mojokerto and Pandaan, Pasuruan. Muna leverages this activity to earn a living amidst challenging economic circumstances. “Every day I guard motorbikes here; the rate is 5,000 rupiah per motorbike for one day. I can accommodate about 45 motorbikes in total,” said Muna, mother of an adult child.

Additionally, some residents in the area operate food and drink stalls in front of Porong Station. While not as bustling as before the mudflow, customers still frequent them, especially those awaiting trains. Prior to the mud’s eruption, the economic pulse of the area was fueled by the old Porong market in front of the station, selling various vegetables. That market is now an empty plot transformed into a park. “Many residents were vendors there. But after the market closed and many people here moved away, it’s much quieter now,” Muna said.

When the old Porong Market was still operating, Muna’s husband worked as a security guard. After the mudflow erupted in May 2006, her husband passed away from colon cancer in 2008. Muna herself now has a history of heart disease, having lost consciousness a few months ago and been rushed to Bhayangkara Pusdik Sabhara Hospital in Porong. “Initially, it was stomach pain, fever, then I was taken to the community health center. There was no doctor there, so I was taken to Pusdik Hospital, where I lost consciousness. It turned out to be heart-related,” revealed Muna, who also experienced dizziness and nausea in the early days of the mudflow.

Muna and other residents rely solely on self-funded visits to community health centers and general practitioners, as some cannot access government health insurance services. She is unsure why her health insurance cannot be activated. “For now, my prevention is exercise. At least walking. Sometimes I also get health checks at the Posyandu,” she added.

For Muna and the remaining residents, their home is an irreplaceable anchor for life, particularly for their children’s upbringing and future. They feel they cannot ensure their children’s future if they were to sell their homes and leave the area, especially since the mudflow began. “Some residents who moved later regretted selling. Now they see us who stayed, and they realize that life is still possible here, and it will be busy again,” Muna commented, who once ran a stall that closed after the pandemic.

The Lapindo event has also left deep scars on the new generation. This is vividly portrayed in the drawings of kindergarten and elementary school children from Porong, Sidoarjo, at Taman Dwarakerta on Sunday, May 17. Fifty kindergarten students and twenty elementary students in Porong drew and colored the mud embankment, depicting a grey smoke plume. Drawing serves as a small but significant step to preserve the memory of the suffering experienced by residents, including children, as they navigate their futures.

“The theme for today’s drawing is the Lapindo mudflow; children are free to add elements based on their imagination of their homeland,” said Eko Widodo, the event organizer from Pos Koordinasi untuk Keselamatan Korban Lapindo (KKLuLa – Coordination Post for the Safety of Lapindo Victims). This drawing festival was held to commemorate Anti-Mining Day and the 20th Anniversary of the Lapindo Mudflow. Alvero Rafiski, one of the participants, expressed his joy in participating. His artwork was among the best and received recognition from the judges. “This is a drawing of the Lapindo mud with smoke, and there’s a backhoe digging up the mud, with people there too,” exclaimed Alvero, a first-grader from Porong District.

Alvero hopes his current home will not be affected by the mudflow and wishes for the mud to stop flowing soon. A healthy home environment with beautiful scenery is the aspiration of children like Alvero. “I want my house to have a beautiful view, clean and cool air, and for the mud to be clean (gone),” said Alvero, who lives in Renojoyo housing, a relocation site for affected victims. The vision of a beautiful and comfortable homeland is also the hope of Tisya, a first-grader from Porong District. She wishes the mud would stop quickly and no longer cause distress, especially for those living near the mud embankment. “I want a nice house, with lots of flowers and plants, and no pungent smell,” Tisya expressed.

These children’s statements clearly illustrate that a better life has not yet materialized for many residents, including the young ones who yearn for a settlement free from constant anxiety.

Public policy observer Parlaungan Iffah Nasution from Airlangga University views the 20-year span of unresolved issues stemming from the Lapindo mudflow as a form of government neglect towards its citizens. He argues that both central and local governments tend to dismiss the concerns and conditions of mudflow victims because they do not represent the majority. However, Parlaungan asserts that this should not deter the government from intervening to assist communities living near the mud embankment. “Firstly, there’s a process of abandonment. Secondly, there are negative externalities that the government hasn’t addressed, especially for those still living near the embankment, who are indirectly affected but untouched by regulations,” Parlaungan stated.

The economic struggle endured by communities amidst the remaining living spaces around the mudflow area often disregards the looming health and environmental risks. Parlaungan notes public apprehension about relocation, fearing a lack of guarantees for employment and future sustainability. “They move, but after that, is there anyone to guarantee their livelihoods?” Parlaungan questioned.

Government policy, according to Parlaungan, should extend beyond compensation or relocation to encompass the sustained well-being of residents after they leave their original homes. This includes supporting their economic activities and socio-cultural life in new locations. Furthermore, health intervention is crucial, as the 20-year duration of the Lapindo mudflow has undoubtedly had significant health impacts on both the community and the environment. The government must categorize communities around the mud embankment as vulnerable groups, requiring policies such as health insurance with premiums fully covered by the state. This would enable affected communities, both directly and indirectly, to access other social assistance programs. “We must not view communities living near the embankment as general society. We need affirmative action policies targeting vulnerable groups, because they reside within the radius of a disaster,” Parlaungan emphasized.

Parlaungan stressed that to date, there have been no effective government policies specifically addressing vulnerable communities or those living in vulnerable areas. Moreover, in the 20-year history of the Lapindo mudflow, its impact has often been overshadowed by other issues, rendering the voices of the mud victims unheard. “They are seen only as a small group, and 20 years is a long time, so when their voices are raised again, it will be difficult for the government to act upon,” he continued.

Beyond the government, the mining company responsible for the disaster, Lapindo Brantas, must also be held accountable. Not only for compensation payments, but also for efforts to restore damaged living spaces and for its responsibility for the various impacts caused by the disaster. “In reality, a company’s responsibility never ends when it comes to a disaster it has caused. Ethically, this is how it should be publicly. The government must bridge the interests of the public, especially communities around the mud embankment, with the company,” Parlaungan concluded.

Meanwhile, the Sidoarjo Mudflow Management Center (PPLS), responsible for handling the Lapindo mudflow in Porong, continues various efforts to reinforce the embankment. On-site observations show several heavy equipment still compacting the dikes and channeling mud water into several collection ponds outside the main embankment. The treated water is then released into the Porong River, south of the dike.

To commemorate the 20th anniversary of the Lapindo mudflow on May 29, 2026, environmental activists and artists are scheduled to stage theatrical performances on top of the mud embankment, accompanied by poetry readings, a photo exhibition of the tragedy, discussions, and documentary screenings. Additionally, some mudflow victims will perform a “sambang buyut” ritual, scattering flowers and praying for their ancestors from the embankment.