Lohkh åarjelsaemiengïelesne. A blackened kettle is taken down from the place above the flames, and the coffee cups are filled. There is quiet anticipation in the group sitting around the fire. A thin, elderly man comes hobbling across the field towards them. He has a carrier bag in his hand. There is a smell of dry grass when Arvid Jåma walks across the newly mowed meadow in Roan on Fosen. He greets the assembly. It has been said that Jåma will tell something today, which he has not talked about much before. When he and his family were in the middle of the worst battle to defend their livelihood, life took a turn no one had predicted. In the carrier bag is something that means a lot to Arvid. He rummages in the bag and pulls out something he would like to hang up. The 74-year-old is the one who has lived most closely, hardest and longest on what is now simply called the Fosen case. Photo: Ingrid Lindgaard Stranden / news Demonstrators and campaigners Two men arrive with an axe, some poles and rope, and accept the contents of the bag. The atmosphere is very calm among the thirty or so people sitting in camping chairs around the fire in Roan on this June day. Although in recent days the group has been referred to as activists and demonstrators. They have made the trip here to Fosen to show their dissatisfaction with the fact that power is still being produced from all the turbines in the two disputed mountain areas of Storheia and Roan. But on this summer evening, the attention is directed at Arvid Jåma. Arvid puts on a slightly thicker jacket. Then he takes the floor. When he lost his daughter, he could not say that it was because of the Fosen case. He has no basis for establishing that. But her life and destiny are part of a bigger picture. He needs to tell. Let others hear what his days were like when his daughter Sissel passed away, and he was in the middle of court proceedings. After almost ten years, and with the stuck situation the Fosen case is in now, he thinks there is no reason to keep this part of the story to himself any longer. In a way, he has nothing to lose. He is tired and dejected. Maybe a little bitter. And he also has no counterpart who stands there with his wings clipped as soon as something as dramatic as a suicide is brought up. For that, the Fosen case has gone too far and has now reached another phase. Photo: Ingrid Lindgaard Stranden / news To Russia to tell about herself Jåma is interested in history. First he talks about Russia and perestroika and how he and other reindeer herders from Trøndelag were invited to Siberia in the middle of the Cold War, to talk about what it was like to be Norwegian indigenous people. And about how grateful the audience was, because someone finally put into words what it was like to be them too. Eventually, his story moves even further back in time. Jåma tells about her great-grandfather who ran milk reindeer on Arefjell in Nordland in the 19th century. At this time, Jåma’s ancestors lived on what these animals gave in milk and meat. But they had to constantly move. They had to follow the reindeer so that it always had enough to eat and lived well. Then the humans were also fine. Always having enough areas for the reindeer was no easy task. Great-grandfather Anders Andersen came to Fosen at the turn of the century. Space was tight here, and several reindeer herders needed the same areas. Andersen therefore had the around three hundred reindeer swim the long way across the Trondheimsfjord. On the southern side of Trondheim into Trollheimen, there were larger areas with untouched nature, mountains and good food. But life on the south side of the fjord was not unproblematic either. Photo: Ingrid Lindgaard Stranden / news Grandma who was ashamed Some farmers were not particularly happy to have the nomadic Sami nearby. The Sami were called “Finn” and “Lapp”. The family was constantly on the move. They had to move from area to area. In some places it was very unappealing. Arvid’s family could feel inferior. The actions done to them showed that this was how some people saw them. More food is added to the fire pan, and several of those who listen to Jåma take pictures and films. The almost empty plastic bag from the coop lies under a chair. From left: Leader of the Nature Conservation Association in Trøndelag, Magne Vågsland, Jostein Amundsen, and Egon Gaebpien from the Norwegian Sami National Association. Photo: Ingrid Lindgaard Stranden / news So Jåma tells about a strong memory from something his grandmother told him in confidence. They were to lead their herd across the river Surna in Trøndelag. From before, the family had been chased from Trollheimen. Someone lit the gamma for the grandparents while they were inside it. When spring came, they had to lead the animals from the winter pasture in Hemne in Trøndelag. The reindeer had to cross rivers. While they were working on following the animals across, Arvid’s grandmother saw that the water around her was turning red. Blood flowed in the river. Someone shot at the reindeer while they were out there in the water with the herd. Arvid tells that this was so traumatic for the grandmother that she closed the experience inside and repressed it. She was ashamed of having contributed to the awfulness, even though she had done nothing wrong, and they never found out how many and who was behind it. Then Jåma’s family eventually returned to Fosen. They became ordinary permanent residents. With reindeer husbandry. Sissel never got to meet Arvid’s grandmother. She was too young for that. But Sissel loved reindeer herding. Arvid has many memories of his daughter taking snowmobiles up into the mountains at Storheia to see the animals. Ever since she was just tiny. The light hair under the thick hat. Reindeer driving was also part of Sissel’s life. Six years of holiday Fosen is fields, forests, mountains and fjords. When the four municipalities in the area want to market themselves, they call Fosen “a Norway in miniature”. Large parts of Fosen have been relatively free of intervention, and some would call it deserted. View from Kvenndalsfjellet in Åfjord on Fosen. Photo: Ingrid Lindgaard Stranden / news In 1969, the state wanted to establish a national shooting range at Nord-Fosen. The area to be used was drawn up to be over five hundred square kilometers in size. This was Arvid’s first major fight against the authorities. It was to last until well into the nineties. Only after more than twenty years of resistance did the reindeer herding Sami receive written confirmation that the plans did not come to fruition. Then Jåma had also been the leader of the public action against the shooting range for a while. Arvid calls the first years after this a holiday. Even more coffee is poured into the coffee cups around the fire. Jåma continues to tell. For six years, the reindeer-herding Sami at Fosen could only go about their business and have peace. Sissel grew up. She was part of an active family, and took pride in her roots and traditions. Then the state designated Fosen as the new, large, national investment area for wind power. Klondike at Fosen There was a kind of Klondike atmosphere where, at the start of the 2000s, new developers constantly applied for concessions on mountain after mountain. For Jåma and his family, it meant the start of a new, huge battle against state plans. Arvid fronted one group of the southern part of the reindeer herding Sami on Fosen, Åarjel Fovsen site. The turbines on Storheia were set up and the construction roads built, at the same time as the reindeer owners were in legal proceedings against the developers. Photo: Rita Kleven When the Supreme Court verdict was handed down, the Jåma family had been in court for over five years. Some say the Sami are just looking for money and compensation. Arvid says the point all along has been to test the question of validity. That is, if the state had grounds to be able to expropriate, to be able to take away from the Sami the right of use they had to the mountains on Fosen. It can be tough for a family to be in a fight against such a big player over so many years. For Arvid, it is a lot about what he has used his time for. Missing Sissel Arvid had three children. Now he has only two living. The gathering around the fire can see that there is something Arvid is thinking of telling. He takes a bet, and wants to talk about the day they were supposed to have final proceedings in the district court. It was Friday 14 June 2017. He was standing in the foyer of the Thon hotel in Søndre gate in Trondheim. They had to live there, so that they reached the court every morning at nine o’clock. This day they were a little late. As the legal adviser hurried down the stairs of the hotel and they were about to get into the taxi together, Arvid’s mobile phone rang. Sissel was no more. She didn’t want to be involved anymore. Now it is completely quiet around the fire in Roan. Arvid looks up in the air. A drop hangs under his nose. He says he doesn’t understand how he stayed together after this. Sissel was part of the Facebook group “Fosen for Folket”. Jåma called the administrator of this and asked him to shut down the page for a few days. That day they did not go to the courtroom. The memory in the bag In the bag from coop is a strong memory for Arvid of Sissel. Something she made. Photo: Ingrid Lindgaard Stranden / news He thinks that describes a bit of his daughter. Her way of expressing herself. On 11 October 2021, a unanimous Supreme Court in grand chamber ruled that the human rights of the reindeer herders at Fosen have been violated, according to the UN Convention on Civil and Political Rights. Sissel was involved in championing Sami rights for many years. The Grand Chamber of the Supreme Court has declared the licenses granted for the developments at Storheia and Roan in Fosen to be invalid. Now the state must come up with new licenses that are not a breach of the Sami’s right to engage in reindeer herding here. Åarjel Fovsen has always said that the turbines must be demolished. The campaigners believe it is not right that almost two years have passed since the verdict, without anything having physically changed in the mountains of Fosen. They want attention to an injustice they believe is committed every single day. They resort to civil disobedience and have closed the roads up to the wind power plant in Roan. The state indicates that they are in the process of working with both the developers and the Sami to come up with a solution. Arvid appreciates the support from the shareholders. He looks at the two who have taken over the contents of the bag. A large piece of cloth unfolds between them. Photo: Ingrid Lindgaard Stranden / news Photo: Ingrid Lindgaard Stranden / news Photo: Ingrid Lindgaard Stranden / news It is a banner. Sissel made it in 2015, and it was used by her on several occasions. She did not realize that the case had to go the long way through the entire legal system up to the Supreme Court’s grand chamber. For Arvid, every day after 14 June 2017 is hard. Baajh vaeride årrodh – That she would no longer be involved came without warning, as can often be the case in such matters. We don’t know the reason, says Arvid Jåma. He would like the banner to continue. A man is kneeling on the ground with an ax and digging holes in the ground for two stakes. Another ties neat knots for a party. The two carefully unfold and lift the banner so that it hangs straight between the two poles. BAAJH VAERIDE ÅRRODH! That’s what Sissel wanted to say. In Southern Sami it means; Let the mountains live. Photo: Ingrid Lindgaard Stranden / no
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When Arvid Jåma was in the fight for wind power at Fosen, he lost his daughter – Langlesing from news Trøndelag
