Jakarta – "I knew something was wrong," Hamidah, 57, said. Her son, 14-year-old Ahmad Zainuddin, or Udin, had never missed evening prayers, but that night, 7:15 p.m. came and went, and Udin had still not appeared.
"When I found out Udin had burned to death inside the Yogya Plaza shopping center, I fainted instantly," Hamidah said, recalling the days of turmoil in May 1998 which led to the resignation of president Soeharto.
"During my first days trying to come to terms with Udin's death, I could not eat. I could only drink sweetened tea for three months after that," Hamidah said.
"Even after I was able to eat normally, I kept losing track of where I was because I was so distracted by memories of my son. To this day, I often forget to turn off the stove and I burn the food," Hamidah said.
"I don't really want to remember that terrible event," Hamidah murmured. However, she does.
Aming Darwin, 72, remembers too. "When they told us that Karyana had died, my wife and I wept. We just couldn't believe it," Darwin said of the night 15 years ago when he lost his son Eten Karyana, 33.
"Ruyati, my wife, almost lost her mind. Luckily, a team of volunteers [led by social activist Sandyawan Sumardi and scholar Karlina Supelli] came to comfort us. Because of these people, my wife was able to regain her strength to live," Aming Darwin recalled.
This March 13, both Hamidah and Aming Darwin gathered in the back parking lot of Citra Mall (formerly Yogya Plaza) shopping center in Klender, East Jakarta. At that moment, the clock had turned back and these bereft parents and others stood where their loved ones had died in May 1998.
The wave of riots that rocked Jakarta, claiming approximately 1,190 lives, brought down Soeharto, but nothing could bring back their children to that shopping center, one of many that were set ablaze by mobs. A decade and a half has passed, but the sorrow and longing never end.
To heal this lingering grief, year after year, Hamidah and Aming and approximately 30 other people who lost loved ones during the political upheaval visit the sites of the fires of May 13 and 14, 1998, starting from the Citra Mall shopping center.
Last Monday, dozens of volunteers from human rights watchdogs, such as the Commission for Victims of Violence and Missing Persons (Kontras) and the Institute for Policy Research and Advocacy (Elsam), prepared flowers, banners and cards containing names and photographs for a commemoration ceremony before the mourners would move on to the cemeteries where their family members are buried.
Throughout these ritual events and during their annual pilgrimage, the bereaved chanted the tahlilan prayer for the dead.
"I choose to attend this commemoration annually because I loved my son. That love was my biggest source of strength," Ruyati Darwin, the wife of Aming and mother of Karyana, said.
Aming also said that fond memories of his son motivated him to keep attending the annual event although he was getting old. "I will never forget my son. I will always remember him as my friend, my buddy, my discussion partner. Karyana was very special. He really understood social and political issues, so I was really fond of discussing these things with him," Aming added.
Hamidah said she chose to turn to God and pray for comfort and guidance, just as her son, Udin, used to do. "I do a lot of dzikir [chanting praises to God] to heal the pain of my loss," Hamidah said.
In their own ways, Hamidah, Aming and Ruyati, along with the others who lost family members that May so many years ago, are trying to reach out to their loved ones. For the May 1998 victims' families, these gatherings seem to be more about love and connection, than politics, reform or revenge. (ogi)