The women of Sambau beat their buckets, their water dippers and their empty jerrycans in rhythm, planted in the middle of the road that leads into the Nongsa digital park. It was a Monday. Almost all of them were housewives, and they had brought the one thing in their homes that no longer filled: the water containers.
Andi Lalang was there. What he said that day was short: that since construction of the data centres began the neighbourhood had suffered from lack of water, and that it had been cut off completely for between three and six months. That is his count, not everyone's.
Police and soldiers took up positions around the park and sent the cars that wanted to enter down another route.
At home, the residents say, the water bill kept arriving every month even though nothing came out of the tap. Water for the basics they bought from outside, because the tanker trucks were not enough.
An official from the island's authority promised to bring back their piped water and sent tanker trucks in the meantime. On that promise they agreed to leave.
The explanation the authority gave afterwards fit in one sentence: the park and the neighbourhood do not drink from the same reservoir, and the neighbourhood's is the one that dried up.
They left with the buckets in their hands.
Scene reconstructed from documented behaviour and territory; sources at the foot of the article.
The signal
On Monday 5 October 2026, residents of Kelurahan Sambau, in the Nongsa district of the Indonesian island of Batam, blocked the access road to Nongsa Digital Park, where data centres are going up. Katadata speaks of "dozens", almost all housewives; iNews (RCTI+), of "hundreds". Police and the military diverted traffic (The Jakarta Post, via The Star, 8 October).
It was not the first time. The Jakarta Post calls it the latest in "a series of protests over the past two months": in September, on a Saturday, hundreds of women stormed the special economic zone office (The Star, 26 September), and in December 2024 residents of the fishing village of Teluk Mata Ikan had already protested in front of the same park (Global Voices). It is an escalation within a series, not an outburst.
How long the cut has lasted depends on who counts: "more than a week" (Katadata), "more than three months" (iNews), "three to six months" according to protester Andi Lalang (The Jakarta Post). What is measured is the reservoir: according to Denny Tondano, of the free trade zone authority (BP Batam), output from the Nongsa reservoir fell from about 90 litres per second to 2.5 (iNews), and it is the only one on the island with a sharp drop (The Star). By Wednesday the 7th, water had returned to about 53 % of the affected areas.
The context
Batam, Singapore's neighbour, has twenty data centre facilities, the second-largest concentration in Indonesia (Katadata), and BP Batam records at least sixteen hyperscale projects in the pipeline (The Star, 26 September). The island produces about 3,487 litres per second for 1.39 million residents; a former mayor estimated it was enough for about one million (The Star). According to a researcher quoted by Global Voices, the nine data centres proposed for the park would need about 29 million litres a day. Household water is distributed by PT Air Batam Hilir (ABH), which in September was laying a new pipeline from the Duriangkang reservoir to residential areas.
The reading
There are two accounts and they do not touch.
The residents' account is in Andi Lalang's mouth: "Since construction of the data centre began, we have been severely affected by water shortage." The residents point at the park. It is a perception, not proof, and Katadata says so plainly: so far there is no information confirming that the data centre's water use is the cause of the cut.
The authority's account blames the climate (a "very strong" El Niño, according to the meteorological agency) and a catchment degraded by encroachment and sand mining. And it adds what matters here: the park's data centres, Tondano says, receive water from the Duriangkang reservoir through a dedicated pipeline built by BP Batam, while the neighbourhoods depend on the Nongsa reservoir, the one that dried up. The projects, he adds, are in early construction and their consumption is "very small".
On what has been published, no one knows how much water the park takes today or whether the dedicated pipeline took capacity from any other use. The causation the residents assert is not demonstrated.
But the official explanation, read slowly, says where the problem is. The park is connected to the reservoir that holds by a pipeline the authority itself built; the neighbourhood hangs from the one that dried up. When that one drops from 90 litres per second to 2.5, the remedy Tondano himself announces is that supply to residents "will be supported from Duriangkang", and ABH lays a new pipeline there. The reservoir that, in the official version, separates the two uses is the same one the neighbourhood now has to be connected to. The separation does not describe two unrelated worlds: it describes who was connected first to the secure source.
The park's human resources director, Nara Dewa, said it in September more clearly than anyone. "When we applied for a data centre permit, BP Batam promised sufficient water supplies," he told The Jakarta Post. And then: "That is why residents feel they have not been prioritised." It is the park, using the separate pipe to shed responsibility and, in the same statement, acknowledging the order in which the water was shared out.
Meanwhile, according to the neighbourhood head quoted by iNews, the bill keeps arriving though nothing comes out of the tap, and water bought from outside costs between 150,000 and 200,000 rupiah a week, against about 45,000 a month on the normal bill.
The signal is not that the servers are drinking the neighbourhood. It is that there are two accounts of who gets served first, and the official one, in order to absolve the park, has to tell us that the park has its own pipe.
The pattern
An academic at Batam International University, Suyono Saputra, summed up in August the principle that ought to apply: utility first, investment follow (The Star, 26 September). In Nongsa, the documented sequence is the reverse at one precise point: the secure pipeline was laid to the park when the permit was granted, and the one to the neighbourhood is being laid now, after the protests.
Where water is enough, "separate pipes" is an engineering fact. Where it is not, it is the answer to a question no one asks out loud: who gets connected first to the source that does not dry up. The authority answers it to defend itself. The residents answer it by beating buckets.
Declared gaps: The Jakarta Post writes Andi Lalang, protester; iNews quotes Andi Lala, head of RT 03/RW 02 in Sambau. Probably the same person; it could not be confirmed and they are not merged: the bill and the bought water are attributed to the neighbourhood head quoted by iNews. The storming of the economic zone office was reported as "Saturday", without a date. No source opened names the park's operator. The scene takes place at the 5 October blockade.
The links this piece cites, gathered and checked. Open them to verify.
- The Star (The Jakarta Post/ANN), “Batam residents protest data centre expansion as water shortages worsen”, 2026-10-08 TIER B
- Katadata, “Sambau residents protest water crisis in front of data centre facility; BP Batam responds”, 2026-10-06 TIER B
- iNews (RCTI+), “3 months of clean water crisis: Sambau residents blockade road to Nongsa Digital Park”, 2026-10-06 TIER B
- The Star (The Jakarta Post/ANN), “Batam residents protest data centres amid water crisis”, 2026-09-26 TIER B
- Global Voices, “AI-ready data centers are booming in Indonesia, but water woes loom”, 2026-04-21 TIER B