The Boy Who Wouldn't Come Down

Meet Epeng, one of the orangutan orphans in our care, and see through his eyes how he navigates our soft-release programme with his best friend Gunawan by his side.

Epeng and Gunawan playing together in the treetops

Hi everyone. My name is Epeng, and yes, before you ask, I've heard all the words people use about me: lively, spoiled, a little bit whingey. I won't argue with any of it. I live at Camp JL, deep inside the Lamandau Wildlife Reserve in Central Kalimantan, alongside five other orphaned orangutans. None of us have a mother anymore. What we have instead is the forest, a patient team of humans, and each other, and every single day, we're taught how to survive out there on our own. It's called the soft-release programme. I still haven't decided whether I'm grateful for it or just resigned to it. I only know that somewhere beyond these trees, there are infants far less lucky than me, who never got a second chance at all.

Out of everyone in the programme, there's one orangutan I'd choose over all the rest. His name is Gunawan. We're the same age, roughly the same size, and if you'd have told me in the beginning that we'd become inseparable, I don't think I would have believed you.

We didn't start out close. In fact, we were about as different as two young orangutans could be. I move fast, I swing branch to branch like the forest owes me speed, restless, loud, everywhere at once. Gunawan is the opposite. He climbs like he has all the time in the world, settling into the canopy to forage quietly for hours, unbothered by anything I do below him.

It was the training that brought us together. The staff would take us out most days to practise the skills we'll need out there, climbing, foraging, building nests, trusting our own hands and every so often, my session and Gunawan's would overlap. That's how it started. A shared patch of forest, a shared hour, and slowly, without either of us deciding to, a friendship. Now, training days feel less like lessons and more like a party. We climb together, steal bites of each other's food, and sit shoulder to shoulder in the branches, watching whatever the forest happens to be doing that day.

Here's the thing about me though, I don't like being alone out there. Not even a little. Once we're out of our night enclosures, I want Gunawan beside me the entire time, and if I'm honest, I expect it. I have energy to spare, more than I know what to do with. Gunawan doesn't work that way. His patience runs deep, but his tolerance for my chaos has a limit, a kind of battery that quietly runs down, and once it's out, it's out.

Epeng and Gunawan playfighting with each other during forest training

So sometimes, mid-play, mid-laughter, Gunawan simply turns and climbs back toward his own cage. No warning. No goodbye that I can understand. Maybe he's had enough of me for one day. But I'm still buzzing, still wanting company, still not remotely ready to be by myself in a tree that suddenly feels much too big and much too quiet.

I won't come down. And I won't go back to my cage alone either, why would I, when going alone feels like losing? So I do the only thing that makes sense to me: I cry. I cry and cry, high up in the branches, making sure the whole forest knows exactly how unfair this is.

And then footsteps. Someone's coming. Could it be Gunawan, having a change of heart? Has he come back to play?

No. It's one of the camp staff, walking toward me with that familiar, unhurried patience, arms already open to scoop me up and carry me home for a rest I insist I don't need.

It happens more often than I'd like to admit. But watching the two of us together. However our days end, I'm told, one of the quiet joys of life at Camp JL. Two very different orangutans, growing braver and more capable by the week, learning to share both the forest's small pleasures and its harder lessons. One day, and everyone here believes it, Gunawan and I will carry these lessons back into the wild for good. Until then, we've got the trees, the training, and each other, even on the days I make him carry a little more of me than he bargained for.

Orangutan Stories: Mores & Marsha

When our team discover that a female orangutan in the wild is pregnant, there’s a certain energy that’s suddenly felt around camp. Every newborn is vital for the future of this critically endangered species so there’s excitement at the thought of another addition to the population, but also a sense of trepidation, hoping that the birth will go well.

Female orangutan Mores shelters from the rain

This is how our team at Camp Gemini felt back in 2019 when we learnt that reintroduced orangutan Mores was pregnant for the third time. Every time we would see her moving around in the trees within the Lamandau Wildlife Reserve, we’d crane our necks to see if there was a little newborn hiding under her long orangey hair. It wasn’t until June that our team were finally rewarded. Emerging from the vegetation came Mores clutching her new tiny infant for the first time!

Mores shows off her newborn

Our monitoring team have to be particularly vigilant for the days following an orangutan birth. It’s the most vulnerable time for any animal in the wild, so to keep a close eye on mother and offspring without disrupting their first moments together is very important.

It was satisfying to see that Mores and her newborn were progressing nicely over the first few days. With her young by her side, she would travel gracefully through the trees and eat plenty of food to keep up their strength. After a while we were finally able to determine that the infant was female, and to follow her mother’s ‘M’ lineage, she was given the name Marsha.

Since then, our staff have enjoyed watching Marsha grow in size and personality in the forest. Witnessing the way her mother climbs, builds nests, and searches for food; the young orangutan is slowly being painted a picture of what an independent life in the rainforest looks like. She still has a few more years to go until she’ll be ready to go it alone, but thanks to her mother’s teachings, Marsha is starting to show the first signs of maturity.

Marsha is Mores’s third offspring, having previously given birth to Marcell and Martin in the wild. For Mores to have grown her family tree so well is truly a fantastic achievement, especially when we consider that she began her life in captivity before her release into the reserve in 2003. A testament to how successful reintroduction can be when orangutans have a safe forest to roam.

Mores and Marsha are thriving in the Lamandau Wildlife Reserve

It’s fair to say that Mores has played her part for the future of these critically endangered great apes, unfortunately though, not all orangutans have the opportunity to do so in a habitat that is protected. Orphans taken into the illegal pet trade have an uncertain future, but at the Orangutan Foundation our staff can offer a route back to the wild through our soft-release programme. Please click below to find out how you can adopt an orangutan today and ensure orphans as young as Marsha also have the chance to be independent.

Orangutan Stories: Queen & Quentin

The connection between an orangutan mother and her infant is almost unparalleled in the natural world. While other great apes like gorillas and chimpanzees congregate in groups so each one can contribute to parenting in some way, an orangutan infant has up to eight years of one-on-one time with its mother and is therefore totally dependent on her to survive.

Queen is spotted with her new born Quentin for the first time

In the early stages, every aspect of a young orangutan’s life is catered for by the mother: Travel- They hold onto her as she climbs and swings through the forest. Food- Even when they’ve grown out of breastfeeding, their mother will find the best fruiting trees to keep them well-nourished. Shelter- Every night they’re kept warm and safe up in the forest canopy by a nest that their mother fashions out of branches. It’s why when young orangutans are discovered in the wild or in captivity without their mother, there’s a challenging path to independence that lies ahead for the orphan.

Young orangutan Quentin can rely on his mother Queen for support

This powerful maternal bond is clear to see when our monitoring team watch female orangutan Queen care for her infant Quentin in the Lamandau Wildlife Reserve. The young male was born two summers ago in the forest surrounding Camp Buluh, and today the pair are ever-present around camp, enabling us to accurately study his development.

Their favourite pastime it seems is to forage for food along the riverbanks. Whether searching for fresh pandan leaves to eat by the water’s edge, or fishing for fallen fruit in the river, Queen will often place Quentin on her head to stay dry as she wades through the water.

It’s an idyllic scene, watching mother and infant gracefully going about their business along the riverbank. However, the recent news of the crocodile attack on male orangutan Brian looms large, so it’s natural for our team to feel a little uneasy of their presence in the water now.

Despite this potential hazard, Queen certainly seems to know what she’s doing. She was one of the first orangutans to be introduced to the protected reserve back in 2003 as a six-year-old, and since then has built a strong legacy of successors. Quentin may be her first son, but previously Queen has raised three females since her release into the wild, so she has a wealth of experience on her side.

While he’s still young, our team will continue to enjoy Quentin’s presence around camp. Each day he spends watching his mother is another day closer to understanding forest life. In the years to come he will gradually learn what it takes to go out and begin his own legacy, but in the meantime, we’re delighted to keeping watching his progress.

Orangutan Stories: Boy

Orangutans are like humans in so many ways. We share around 97% of our DNA which means that biologically speaking there are a number of similarities. We have the same number of teeth, both age in a comparable way, and we can even use a human pregnancy test to check for prospective orangutan mothers!

This means that humans and great apes can also suffer from the same ailments, and orphaned orangutan Boy’s medical history is a prime example of this.

Boy is discovered at a local village in April 2017

As a three-year-old, Boy was separated from his mother and then kept as a pet in a local village. Cages can dramatically restrict an orangutan’s development, and after a few months on his own, Orangutan Foundation staff and government officials BKSDA were alerted to Boy’s presence and hurried to his aid. A thorough medical examination from our vet showed that despite his ordeal, Boy was in good health and ready to embark on his next chapter in the Foundation’s soft-release programme within the protected Lamandau Wildlife Reserve.

On his rescue, Boy receives a full-body examination to check his health

In the wild orangutans are a semi-solitary species, which means that although they generally explore their habitat independently, from time to time they do interact with one another. While they develop their natural abilities in our soft-release programme though, Boy and the other orphaned orangutans spend many hours together, learning and playing with one another on their daily trips to the forest.

Boy enjoys company and is perhaps one the most sociable of the young primates under our supervision. He loves exploring the trees with fellow orphan Adib as they climb and practice nest-building. In fact, Boy has even been spotted spending time with wild infant Marsha, until her mother Mores intervened and playfully shooed him away!

Boy swings in the trees with his campmates

Like the other orphaned orangutans in our care, Boy receives regular health check-ups to monitor his development, but recently we discovered something a little unusual. Last month Boy didn’t appear to be himself, he was vomiting and looked very weak and lethargic. Blood tests revealed that he had caught a cold and was suffering from anaemia, a condition which can occur from a lack of iron in the blood, so a course of multivitamin injections and medicines was prescribed by our vet to help alleviate this.

Another ailment which has affected the young male from time to time over the years is hair loss. Like us, every orangutan is unique so they each have varying amounts of hair on their body, but Boy has experienced unusual periods of baldness in recent times. It’s not thought that this is linked to his recent anaemia, so to treat this, our team have begun to use a new shampoo when washing him in the river which will hopefully encourage growth.

A week after his latest illness, our team were delighted to see that Boy’s blood tests were looking more positive. What’s more, the growing great ape appears to have more energy and has bounced back to his usual active self, frolicking with the others in the forest again. We will continue to keep a close eye on Boy’s health as he progresses and we look forward to the day when he will be experienced and strong enough to be released on his own into the wild.

We all have ups and downs, and Boy’s story is another reminder of how like us orangutans can be.

Orangutan Stories: Amoi

It’s strange to think that 20 years ago, if an orangutan outside of a protected forest needed rescuing, there were few secure places they could be released in Central Kalimantan, Indonesian Borneo. Thankfully however, with the establishment of the Lamandau Wildlife Reserve, great apes in need have a safe haven where they can be set free.

Six-year-old female Amoi (below) was one of the early orangutans to be translocated to the Reserve in 2004. Swapping a cage for the forest, it was wonderful to transport her from the Orangutan Care Centre and Quarantine (run by Orangutan Foundation International) and release her into the protected forest around Camp Siswoyo.

Growing up alongside humans meant that Amoi had a very tame nature. In fact, to start with she seemed to prefer spending time around camp instead of exploring the surrounding trees. Soon though she really got into the swing of things, and after a few years she was ready to give birth to her first offspring. Our field team were thrilled to discover that Amoi had adapted so well to her new home in the wild, but in a devastating piece of news shortly after, we learnt that she had sadly lost her young. It’s not uncommon for first-time orangutan mothers to lose their newborn, but reassuringly we would soon find out that Amoi had not lost her mothering instincts.

In 2008, another adult female orangutan named Ruta unfortunately passed away leaving her young son Richard to fend for himself. Our team weren’t sure how Richard might cope as an orphan in the forest, but with a little encouragement we discovered that Amoi was happy to take the inexperienced young orangutan under her wing. She’d become his surrogate mother. The pair prospered in the forest together and when Richard was ready for independence in the wild, Amoi was fully prepared for the next chapter of her story when in 2013, along came Alex.

Our staff fell in love with Amoi’s daughter Alex the first time they laid eyes on her. Initially she was so petit that it was difficult for our team to identify her sex (hence why she was given the unisex name). Even after a couple of weeks Alex was still tiny, in fact she could barely lift her head from her mother’s side (above). It’s amazing that this little primate even had the strength to hold onto her mother as they travelled through the forest, but after some time Alex finally began to grow and demonstrate her character.

In the trees around Camp Gemini within the protected habitat, mother and daughter would often be seen playing together and foraging for fruit wherever they could. The years of experience Amoi had built up were finally coming into practice, she’d proven that she could successfully raise an infant of her own.

That was until the moment in 2016 when Amoi and Alex ventured deeper into the forest and out of sight. The Lamandau Wildlife Reserve spans across almost 160,000 acres of peat-swamp habitat, so its not unusual for recognised orangutans to explore other patches of forest away from our regular patrols. Nonetheless, what a wonderful surprise it would be if our team spotted them in the trees again!

Amoi’s calmness and tranquillity in spite of the challenges is textbook orangutan behaviour. Wherever she may be now, it’s encouraging to think of the legacy this gentle and caring mother has had for this critically endangered species.

Photos taken by Wawan

We rely on your support to ensure orangutans like Amoi and Alex continue to have a safe place to call home. From just £2, you can help our team protect an acre of their tropical rainforest for a whole year!

Saving the most endangered great ape - the Tapanuli orangutan

With only 800 individuals remaining in the wild, the Tapanuli orangutan is the rarest species of great ape. Their home in the mountainous forest of Batang Toru, Northern Sumatra, spans around 250,000 acres but is heavily fragmented due to habitat loss. Consequently, this means that the Tapanuli orangutan is also the most vulnerable of the great apes to become extinct.

We’re determined to provide a future for all orangutans, but as the Tapanuli’s forest is located far from our local programmes in Central Kalimantan, Indonesian Borneo, we’ve called upon a dedicated team who can help us.

Scorpion - The Wildlife Trade Monitoring Group, are a local NGO in Sumatra whose primary focus is to tackle animal exploitation by working with government and nearby communities. As their main goals match those of Orangutan Foundation, we could think of no one better suited to help us ensure a safer future for the Tapanuli orangutan, and here are three successful approaches that they use to do this:

1) Patrols. With the help of local law enforcement, patrol teams regularly visit 11 sites in the Batang Toru region which are orangutan habitats or areas of suspected illegal activity. It can be daunting prospect to explore a remote patch of rainforest which may harbour illegal loggers, miners, or wildlife traffickers, but it’s a necessary task to deter such destructive activity.

So far the team have caught illegal loggers felling trees for timber, reported man-made shelters in the forest which are likely used by hunters, and even uncovered patches of forest within nature reserves that have been cleared to make way for illegal plantations. All destructive behaviours which if left unfound, would destroy vast areas of orangutan habitat.

2) Investigations. As a result of these patrols, and by cooperating with local communities and government, the team can investigate these offenses further to thwart more habitat encroachment.

In some cases they have been able to identify names of loggers and ensure that previously used camps within protected areas have been abandoned. These surveys are ongoing, but to date have ensured that a dozen or so sites of illegal activity are no longer used.

3) Awareness. It’s paramount that we spread the word and remind local communities that their surrounding forests are essential for Tapanuli orangutans, and this has been communicated in a number of ways in the Batang Toru region.

Agriculture is the primary livelihood for many local people so instructive talks and discussions have helped encourage nearby villages to reduce the spread of their farmland into protected areas. Interestingly, the team have also incorporated the message into Friday prayers in mosques and Sunday sermons in churches to emphasise the matter and raise awareness to over 300 villagers. This is a unique approach but one that is proving to have a positive impact on the local perception of orangutans and their forests.

Despite major difficulties from the emergence of the global pandemic, the Scorpion team have worked wonders to protect the Batang Toru ecosystem. Through our partnership so far the team have helped strengthen over 15,000 hectares of strict conservation area, providing a safer forest for Tapanuli orangutans and encouraging better relations with local people for the future. From their findings it’s clear that habitat loss and encroachment will continue to be a major hurdle, but there are at least effective ways of resolving this with the right support.