Hawkers face daily struggle in Jakarta

Endang Roh Suciati, Contributor, Jakarta

Mamat left his hometown of Sampang-Madura for Jakarta more then eight years ago, but he has no intention of returning even though his days in the big city are far from comfortable.

"Living in Jakarta is tough, but I don't have any plan to return home. I have no work there and it's better here," said the 25-year-old Mamat.

As one of thousands of migrants without a clear direction or any skills, Mamat decided to try his luck at selling nasi goreng (fried rice), mie goreng (fried noodles) and mie rebus (boiled noodles) from a simple pushcart, which he wheels along the city streets.

Early in the morning, he prepares his ingredients from where he lives in Tanah Abang, Central Jakarta. At 5 p.m. he sets out, walking to the Setiabudi area in South Jakarta to sell the local dishes.

Despite the rain and dust, Mamat continues to walk, even when most people have gone to bed. His work ends at midnight, or sometimes early in the morning.

Most of Mamat's customers live in boardinghouses in the Setiabudi area. Since they do not cook but want tasty food at a reasonable price, Mamat's fare is their first choice.

"His fried rice is delicious and different," said Hana, one of Mamat's loyal customers.

Mamat does not have many options for the future. The only skill he has is cooking simple food, which he uses to earn a living here.

To start his business, he bought the pushcart and ingredients. He said the amount he spent was much lower six years ago than it is now. It costs Rp 500,000 to make a pushcart or Rp 1 million if one wants to buy a ready-made one. Every day, Mamat sets aside Rp 70,000 to buy the ingredients he needs.

If he is lucky, he can earn between Rp 750,000 and Rp 1,000,000 a month. He sets aside some of his earnings for his younger sisters back home.

The elementary school graduate, however, has no regrets, although he has had to work from an early age. "You need a lot of money for schooling, but education cannot guarantee that we will get a job after we graduate," Mamat said.

Another migrant, Rusli, left his hometown in Bangkalan, Madura, at the age of 10. The 27-year-old man earns a living from selling satay (grilled skewered meat), which he has been doing for over a decade.

"I followed my brother, hoping life would be better for me out here, but it has been hard. Why has it been so difficult for me to get money? I have sold satay for years but my life doesn't get any better," Rusli said.

Every day at 6 a.m. Rusli cuts up goat and chicken meat into small pieces, while his wife prepares lontong (steamed rice rolled in banana leafs) and sambal (crushed peanuts mixed with chili and spices).

After everything is ready, the father of one rests for a while in his rented home in Tanah Abang before hitting the streets at 4 p.m.

At 9:30 p.m. three girls stop him to order three portions of half-cooked satay. He has walked for more than five hours, but there has not been many people buying food.

"I can make a tidy sum if I'm lucky, but if I'm not, I won't make a penny and may even lose my capital. I hope today won't be so bad," Rusli said.

He sells a portion of satay for Rp 5,000. Sometimes, he can bring home Rp 30,000 or Rp 50,000 in profit. But there are times when he returns home empty-handed.

Escalating food prices have made things worse for him. He has to come up with Rp 100,000 a day, when he only needed Rp 50,000 before. "Now, I need Rp 60,000 for chicken alone," Rusli complained.

On the other hand, he has to pay Rp 1 million a year for his rented 3 x 6 square-meter home in Tanah Abang. "My house is bad and the roof leaks when it rains," he said.

Rusli gets tired of his job, however, he has no other choice but to continue. "I have a family to feed," he said.

Like Mamat, returning to his hometown does not cross his mind either.

"I don't know. I've been living here for years. My hometown is tiny and hot. I can't work there," he said.

Like other migrants, Mamat and Rusli spend most of their time walking the streets of the capital, even though the streets are not safe.

"I walk home with other vendors together after finishing work. It's much safer than walking home on your own," Mamat said.

Mamat and Rusli may not be wanted by the Jakarta's administration.

Perhaps they do not know or care that the administration is trying to rid the city of them. What they do know is they have to survive as there is no other place for them to go.

They are among the millions of unlucky Indonesians who are desperately seeking better lives in the capital.