Like many Austronesians, Buru people believe that land can and should be shared. They do this through the concept of fena, recognising the people who are the custodians of a fena, and those who have requested respectfully to live on a fena. Yet there is considerable conflict in Buru about boundaries and territories, not because land is a scarce resource, but because of the power relationships associated with different concepts of land. In the past two centuries, regentschap and desa have been mapped onto Buru. Both have proven to be disadvantageous to the native people of the island, by defining them as subjects liable for tribute to Muslim immigrant rajas, and by excluding them from government services, opportunities and aid, because they live in the remote interior rather than on the coast.

As I realised long ago, the map that is lacking is the map of Buru fena. Some on Buru also realise this lack as they are beginning to recognise the power of maps and land titles to legitimate land claims within the Indonesian national context. I was once requested to be a scribe for men from a Buru noro as they recited from memory the boundaries of their fena from a named river bed, to a named rock, to a mountain peak and so on. To them, fena is not just tradition handed down from their ancestors in the past, it is a valuable resource they hope to secure for their grandchildren in the future.