The Future of Martu - Post 6 of 6

First Nations Australians and Torres Strait Islander people should be aware that this website contains images, voices, and names of deceased persons.

Photos and story by James Roh

Post 6 of 6. The Dutjahn blog series shares the beauty of Australian First Nation Martu culture, traces the sandalwood used in the Pura x Dutjahn collection, and explores Pura’s partnership with K Farmer Dutjahn Foundation (KFDF). 

Clinton Farmer, Martu leader and KFDF Chairman, hosted members of the Pura team to connect with the community on Australian sandalwood lands, host a painting workshop, and discuss a shared vision for KFDF.

In Martu culture, an elder isn’t just someone who is old.

They are revered torch-bearers of traditional wisdom, powerful shamans, skilled storytellers, and the stewards of sacred sites. 

Born on Country, Junior is one of the last remaining elders to once live the traditional hunter-gatherer nomadic lifestyle and witness first contact with European colonists. He walked off Country in the 1960s when he was a young boy and now lives in the small desert town of Wiluna. In his lifetime, he has directly experienced the tremendous upheaval of outside influence on Martu culture—and the resulting collective trauma. 

Junior is a wealth of knowledge, and the Martu community has an immediate sense of urgency to pass on that accumulated knowledge to the next generation. On Country, surrounded by family and their young children, he can do just that. Whether it’s telling stories, painting, or harvesting a kangaroo the traditional way—the kids soak it all up. 

This transfer of culture, Clinton points out, is one of his biggest and most pressing efforts in supporting his people. Social media and Western cultural pressures distract young people from their heritage. Life in town makes the nomadic lifestyle of this generation’s grandparents and ancestors feel unrelatable and unfamiliar. The foundation is working hard to scale the Youth Ranger program and utilizing new technology to record Martu sacred sites before it’s too late. Without this quality, undistracted time on Country, there is a very real possibility of elders not passing on their knowledge, the youth losing their connection to their cultural identity, and Country itself evolving into a state of environmental crisis. 

“It's up to us to learn what we can from the elders so that we can continue on and take on that responsibility of caring for the land and continue to have that strong connection that keeps us going,” Clinton says, underscoring the current perilous tipping point for Martu culture. 

The stakes are high and the challenges seemingly innumerable, yet Clinton remains optimistic. His steadfast dedication to a better future—and his tireless work to realize that vision—is an inspiration to many. 

Clinton’s use of sandalwood to fuel the work of K Farmer Dutjahn Foundation as it takes on his community’s challenges is the first of its kind. The KFDF model pairs a renewable resource with Indigenous-led solutions—a meaningful step towards Martu autonomy and self-determination. And as it gains momentum and proves effective, he calls on other Indigenous communities to follow suit by integrating enterprise with cultural preservation and land stewardship. After all, the complexities facing Martu culture are part of a bigger landscape of threats to Indigenous rights worldwide.

However, the opportunities and benefits of this model are not just limited to Martu and other Indigenous communities. Consumers play a crucial role in this process.

Having a renewable, high-quality product that is ethically managed, sustainably harvested, and reinvested in the community available on the market empowers international shoppers to advocate for a fairer, more equitable world. It proves that there is an appetite to embrace Indigenous land management practices and traditional ecological knowledge, despite a historical tendency to disregard these values. It is a chance to build a more sustainable future in a time of increasing environmental concern. 

“We can listen and learn from each other,” Clinton says, emphasizing the point that Indigenous and non-Indigenous communities can align and successfully collaborate. “When people from different cultures and different nations work together in a positive way, well, it's a good thing for everybody.”

A lot of things have changed since the Old People last inhabited Australia’s Western Desert nearly half a century ago, but Clinton and the Martu community are doing their best to keep their culture’s important wisdom alive, bring up the next generation of Martu, and care for their land in the ever-evolving modern world. Throughout it all, Wooyurd, the powerful Martu word for love of people and Country, has remained a constant.

The Old People would be proud.