Medical worker's story of Maluku's civil war
By Santi W.E. Soekanto
JAKARTA (JP): Orthopedic surgeon Basuki Supartono and his wife Prita Kusumaningsih, a gynecologist, knew what lay in store when last September they both agreed to participate in a residency program conducted by the Ministry of Health and relocate to Ternate, located in the northern part of war-torn Maluku where some 90,000 refugees have been languishing for months.
First, they had to uproot the family -- sending two of their eldest children to Islamic boarding schools (pesantren), leaving the house in the care of relatives and friends, and taking the two youngest children, only two and seven years old, with them.
Next, the couple, part of a team of 30 medical workers, had to brace themselves for the ugliness of war in the beautiful city of Ternate, where one can see the mountain and sea from anywhere.
"The beauty is breathtaking, its natural resources lie in abundance, from cloves, copra, pepper, to fish," Basuki told The Jakarta Post in a recent interview during a week's leave in Jakarta. "But the ugliness of war taints peoples' lives."
He said Muslim refugees from various parts of the predominately-Muslim North Maluku and predominately-Christian Maluku have been living in cramped quarters of various abandoned properties in the town where privacy has become non-existent. Rape has occurred frequently, including two cases where the victims were girls of 8 and 10 years old, he said.
The team soon reopened the Dharma Ibu Hospital, a private property belonging to a Christian, but it was abandoned during the peak of the unrest, which first erupted in 1999. Refugees soon flocked to the facility, where medicines and equipment shortages have hampered the doctors' progress.
The refugees receive medical attention for free in this town, while food supplies are traded at prices even higher than Jakarta. An egg cost the doctors Rp 1,000 while a chicken is priced at Rp 50,000.
Basuki recalled going to a Padang restaurant with four friends and having to pay Rp 100,000. Basuki and Prita take this in their stride, as they do the fact that they have to pay for their own accommodation; the six-month rent for their house is Rp 5 million.
To help make ends meet, Prita opened a private practice at home after work. Her patients are mostly employees of several large companies still operating in the region. "But if refugees come to her practice, she will serve them for free," Basuki said of his wife, who was struck down by malaria in January.
The doctors soon earned the respect of the refugees "because local medical workers fled the city as soon as unrest broke out, and here we are, coming from faraway places to serve them," Basuki said.
Health clinics organized by several non-governmental organizations such as the Medical Emergency Rescue Committee and Justice Party Command Posts for Ummat (PKPU) are swamped by ailing refugees every day. Due to a shortage of doctors, a high school graduate and an accountant were trained on the spot to serve as nurses; they are now skilled in administering injections, suturing wounds and assisting in surgery.
Basuki was so overwhelmed by the suffering around him that he could not help but cry upon seeing the first group of refugees trying to survive their hardship. Thousands had to be accommodated in a warehouse; each cramped space assigned to a family was only separated from the others by a makeshift partition constructed from cement sacks.
Those who did not get a place in the warehouse sheltered underneath makeshift plastic tents. Sanitation was poor. Communicable diseases such as diarrhea and respiratory diseases spread quickly.
"They have been living like this for months and there is not sufficient help for them," Basuki said. "The local government has been making preparations to return the refugees to their home villages, but without sufficient financial assistance how will they rebuild their lives? Their houses and other property in the villages have all disappeared during the unrest."
The second and third waves of refugees fleeing the villages and districts of Ternate, Tidore and Galela and Tobelo -- where approximately 800 Muslims were slaughtered overnight in a massive killing spree launched by their opponents -- fared a little better.
They entered houses and properties abandoned by Christians who fled Ternate during the unrest. Most of the Christians are now sheltering in Bitung and Manado, in neighboring Sulawesi provinces.
"What saddens me the most is the absence of schooling for the child refugees," said Basuki. "There is also the drug problem, there are so many teenagers who abuse drugs such as shabu-shabu."
Basuki spoke of how a group of Muslim volunteers from the Laskar Jihad once surrounded a nightclub -- where locals were reported to participate in orgies of drugs and sex -- and ordered them to cease their activities.
The teenagers threw bombs at the volunteers and wounded seven of them. A colleague of Basuki amputated a leg from one of the wounded.
Basuki was concerned because, despite being predominately Muslim, Ternate did not have many signs of an Islamic community. Basuki was soon known as an ustadz (religious teacher), and regularly preached during the Friday prayers and in other gatherings.
"Many have asked me to preach at various places, but my duties as a doctor for the Ministry of Health prevent me from meeting those requests," Basuki said. "Maybe later, when I have finished the six-month residency."
"This is why I am now calling on Muslim paramedics to serve in North Maluku," he said. "I am also calling on preachers (da'i) from Java, Sulawesi and Kalimantan to spread the Islamic teaching in Halmahera, and for entrepreneurs and other professionals to come and help revive the economy here."
"They don't even have to stay for very long. One year would be enough. It's not enough to just talk (about concern for the refugees) from Jakarta," Basuki pleaded.
The writer is a journalist of The Jakarta Post