Illiteracy, human rights violations loom over capital city
By Yogita Tahil Ramani
JAKARTA (JP): They say that charity begins at home, and yet only a few Jakartans, enlightened to the hardships suffered in far-flung parts of Indonesia, may be aware of the poverty and suffering on their own doorstep.
Scarcity of clean water and land, poor children's health care, illiteracy and human rights violations dog the capital city's underclass every day of the year.
The Islamic Day of Sacrifice fell on Apr. 7 this year. The day is intended to remind Moslems of the virtues of sacrifice. It always falls in Dzulhijjah, the 10th month in the Islamic calendar, the month in which Abraham sacrificed of his own son Ismail to the Almighty.
Recalling the virtues of sacrifice is not quite so pertinent for the residents of Kampung Muka, a community in Kampung Bandan Ancol, North Jakarta, who share their daily lives with this divine virtue.
Nevertheless, the sacrifices of others do benefit these poverty stricken people on that holy day. Ibu Bawon, a mother of six, said "it's the only day when we receive, even though we always sacrifice."
A kilogram of meat from one of the 12 goats and single cow donated for sacrifice was to be distributed among 400 of the 800 households in the neighborhood.
Everybody watching, from street vendors, local garment factory workers and Mangga Dua Mall laborers, seemed happy and contented at the sight of the animals being slaughtered.
A mother of two said that it was nice to know she would be able to eat goat or beef after "so, so long" without meat.
Mardi, a construction worker who lives with his wife and five- year old daughter, laughed when asked how many times he and his family ate meat in a week.
"What, meat? I cannot afford to buy meat. I cannot even afford to buy milk for my child. We live on tofu and tempeh," Mardi said.
He explained that even with his meager Rp 320,000 (US$40) a month salary and Rp 10,000 daily transport allowance, he was lucky to still have a job.
"Six of my colleagues have been fired, just after being promoted. At work, my daily food allowance has been cut and so have the hours I work. I get home by 6:30 p.m. now"
His wife said that every time they thought they could once again afford milk, prices were raised.
She added that the day of sacrifice "would be a really happy day because her child could for once play with meat on her plate instead of playing with vegetables."
Residents' poverty is further compounded by a belief, which still persists, that having more children is a blessing bestowed by God, despite the fact that 800 households are already crammed into the neighborhood.
Ibu Bawon, who is nearing 50, said her husband, who works at a gas station in Kota, still wanted more children.
"I don't think he knows that I cannot have any more," she said, adding that, "she dared not explain this to him. After all, he's a man."
The maze of muddy, humid alleys in Kampung Muka leads, almost inevitably, to water and sanitation problems.
Two wells containing hard, soapy water, are sited a matter of feet from the public toilets -- an impending disaster made no better by the kampung's inadequate drainage system filled with pools of stagnant water.
Residents believe water from the wells has reddened children's hair and is a cause of skin problems.
Yosie, a mother of four, said that it cost Rp 1,200 to buy a container of clean water sufficient for one day.
"I cannot afford to buy milk. I just breast-feed my six-month old child and give water to the others," she said.
She laughingly added that the meat she hoped to eat later "might taste foreign."
Residents seemed relaxed in their shanty huts, watching Ngelaba, a popular comedy program, and dangdut singer Oma Irama, complete with yet another theatrical costume, crooning away on TV.
Gone were thoughts of the imminent arrival of bulldozers. Their settlement is on government land earmarked for high-rise buildings and until recently, construction was due to commence shortly.
"The crisis has stopped them for the time being. We hope it does not end, then we can stay here," a man said chuckling.
Thoughts that they all technically did not existent (most community members do not have identity cards) also seemed far away.
Priyanti, a mother of one, said the area's inhabitants were a mix of newcomers from distant towns and villages, and arrivals from demolished slums.
"They have no identities so they cannot claim their basic human rights," Priyanti said.
"It becomes difficult to arrange KTPs (identity cards) when so many arrive at one time. There are about four or five in each household," she added.
Most of the incomers mistakenly believed Jakarta was a "land where people could earn good money," she said.
Some do earn a higher wage than they would in rural areas of the country, but "they earn money only to spend it on sacrifices", Priyanti said with a touch of irony.
The dire need for these people to educate their children forces most, including those as young as seven, to work in any jobs they can find. Often parents go hungry, just to save a little more money.
Both Ibu Bawon and Yosie believed education was very important for their children, but were unable to explain clearly why this was so.
"I just want all my children to be educated... it will save them," Yosie said.
Ibu Bawon said that sometimes she and her husband skipped meals to save money to further their children's education.
The day of sacrifice did not end there.
Fires burned down 30 units in the Jembatan Batu slum area in Pinangsia subdistrict, a mere stone's throw from Kampung Muka.
With only one fire-engine working, the blaze was left to burn out in its own time.
A larger housing unit belonging to an ethnic Chinese family caught fire. Residents, on the pretense of helping, jumped into the unit and were seen filling their pockets with whatever possessions they could grab, before running away.
Rains stubbornly refused to fall, but the fires eventually died down.
Finally, the eventful day ended amid strangers, eating sweets and laughing at a child with rotting teeth being entertained by a young but fatherly figure.