"Dear Lapindo, I hope to go home soon I'm tired of living in the barracks. Will you be cleaning up the mud right away?"
Twelve-year-old refugee Macmudiono wrote this letter to Lapindo Brantas Inc, the company that brought mud and misery to Porong, Sidoarjo in East Java. He won first place in a recent contest held by Surabaya's Community Care Foundation for the best letter to Lapindo.
Macmudiono and the hundreds of other children displaced from their homes by the spreading hot mud just want things to return to normal, so they can play in their backyards, ride their bikes through the paddy fields and climb trees.
Since May 29, when hot mud abruptly gushed out of a plot of land owned by Probo Sutejo, a resident of Jatirejo village, Porong Sidoarjo, East Java, and began to flow over rural settlements, the life of the local children has changed.
Children unaccustomed to aggression have observed their communities change. Tolerance levels have dropped and tempers run high among the mudflow victims. Residents of neighboring villages have become protective of their property and suspicious of everyone.
"They carry not only sticks and stones but also sharp weapons. They fight against anyone who is perceived as a threat, regardless of whether they were previously friends," said Yuliani, a legal and policy staffer at the East Java office of the Indonesian Forum for the Environment (Walhi), who provides advocacy for locals.
Five clashes have occurred between people from mud-hit villages within the past two-and-a-half months following the hot mud eruption. On the eve of Independence Day on Aug. 17 three people were injured in an inter-village brawl.
The mudflow victims also vented their anger by obstructing access to the Surabaya-Gempol turnpike, which resulted in the closure of a section of the road. They staged a demonstration, assailing security guards and Lapindo with accusations.
The walls of shelters in Siring village are covered with graffiti. "Beware, Lapindo's brokers at large," is scribbled in a corner and in clumsy painted letters, "F@@@ you Lapindo, the state's dog."
"They are still too young to understand what's going on, but the are the one's who are suffering the most. Now my kids are familiar with the dirty words uttered by some residents," said Siti, a Besuki villager.
Siti brought her two-year-old along to the Surabaya-Gempol turnpike protest, while her two other children stayed behind at the refugee camp in Porong market.
Thousands of children live in the refugee camp, with three to five families sharing a four-by-six meter kiosk that has been converted into sleeping quarters. It is not unusual for 10 children to be sleeping together with their families.
Sleep is often interrupted and it is almost impossible to study. The day before Independence Day, six-year old Ika was stuck in a stuffy room with no television or radio. "I remember last year's celebrations in my village. It was so much fun. But everything is boring here," she said.
Windiarti Rahayu, 13, hopes to return to her high school in Porong soon, but the building is now submerged in hot mud up to its roof tiles. "I'm sick of the sound of angry words. My parents have sour faces, too. I want to live a normal life and study in a calm environment," she said.
"I apologize to the public for this misfortune. We will strive hard to do no harm to any party in this case. In fact, we have no intention to cause any trouble to village people," said Imam Agustino, the general manager of Lapindo Brantas Inc, to the Post.
Ahmad Firdausi Ali, the chairman of the human resources development and analysis body of Nahdlatul Ulama (NU) in Sidoarjo, said that Lapindo's apology fell short of satisfactory because it ignored the basic rights of mudflow victims, including shelter, education and employment.
He said the company must compensate the people, and return things to the way they were. And most of all, Lapindo must act right now, for the children's sake.