Fitri Wulandari and Tertiani ZB Simanjuntak, Nunukan – Rustan was dreaming of streets paved in gold when he took the offer to work in Malaysia last year. He left his hometown of Rappang in South Sulawesi, bringing with him his wife Pasah and their two-month-old son, Ruslan.
To reach the land of his dreams, the young family ran the risk of getting locked up for not having legal travel documents.
From the transit island of Nunukan regency, the family hopped on board a small boat provided by the labor export company PT Mitra Harta Insani to reach Malaysia's Tawau region in Sabah state at night. From there, they were immediately taken to the camp of the biggest cocoa plantation in the area.
Earning RM 6 (US$1. 60) per day, Rustan saved RM 200 after one year of hard work. But he spent most of that money to take the family home for a vacation two months ago.
It was just on their return to Malaysia that local authorities started deporting Indonesian illegal migrant workers in compliance with a new labor law which took effect on August 1.
Rustan, 23, said his employer had sent him and another 70 workers to obtain new passports and work permits before the stringent immigration policy took effect. Another batch of workers would be sent after they got back, he said.
By the time he arrived in Nunukan, Rustan hardly had any money. The employer had given Malaysia-based agents of the Indonesian labor supply companies RM 1,050 to pay for new passports for each of the workers. Rustan had to pay the labor supply company to get decent meals and safe drinking water for his son, in addition to paying for running water for bathing and washing clothes.
"Our boss said we had to get our passport as soon as possible so that we could get back to work. It is a big plantation and we are desperately needed there. The company said our monthly salary would be cut by RM 50 to RM 100 upon our return," Rustan told The Jakarta Post as he looked after Ruslan, now 14 months old.
The family stayed for a month on a sidewalk in front of a shop on Jl. TVRI in downtown Nunukan. They were then moved to a shelter newly built by the regency's administration in the Tanjung Mambunut campground last Thursday after PT Mitra claimed Rustan was not on the list of migrant workers it had sent to Malaysia.
Over 23,000 Indonesian migrant workers are camping in Nunukan, waiting for legal entry back to Malaysia or to board a boat back home.
His unrealized dream will force Rustan to leave his son in the care of relatives back home soon after the couple obtain their passports since the Sabah government refuses to allow anyone without a work permit to enter the state.
"What else can we do? I could work at home, but it wouldn't be enough. Moreover, I'm ashamed to go back for good," he said.
Most Indonesian migrant workers working in the Sabah region come from Nusa Tenggara, Sulawesi and islands in eastern Indonesia, where development has been neglected by the government for decades. Farming and fishing cannot meet their needs for a better life similar to living in the western part of the country.
Rustan is lucky to have relatives back in Rappang and his wife to work with on the Malaysian plantation. Carla Losor of Ende, East Nusa Tenggara, did not get a job offer. With her 18-month-old twins Carles and Carlos, she left her husband Marcelinus Sega and elder daughter Kety in Sabah to get a visitor's permit, which is valid for one month.
The new Malaysian labor law has put her life in turmoil, since she doesn't have any skills to join the labor force nor the heart to leave her toddlers.
Not all that glitters is gold for 50-year-old Petrus Manu of Flores, East Nusa Tenggara, who has been married to a Malaysian for 20 years, during which he experienced hardship as an Indonesian in the neighboring land.
"The police repeatedly arrested us, took our money, jewelry and wristwatches. They stripped us naked to make sure we weren't hiding anything else. They took the girls out of the detention center and returned them after hours. It has become common practice for us to give money to the police although we were working there legally. The local administration even made me carry an identity card, which is still valid as well as my work permit.
"If it was not because of my four children back home in Sabah and my crippled wife working alone on our vegetable farm, I would go back to my hometown. I may not be living well back home, but at least I would not have to live in fear," he said.