Logging: Carrots, sticks and lies

comments     Keruah Usit     Published     Updated

Henneson Bujang walked with slow, sure steps through the emerald rainforest. The steep trail was thick with creepers and low branches. The canopy overhead provided shelter from the noon sun.

This was the quiet time of day when most birds and insects had been lulled to sleep by the moist heat. As Henneson led the way, a few cicadas and frogs broke the silence.

Henneson, a fit, well-built 53-year-old, stopped and listened. "Can you hear the chainsaw? It's only fifteen minutes' walk downhill, over there," he gestured in the direction of the barely audible, stubborn whine.

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