Samin Kitjot, the forgotten parking attendant boss
Samin Kitjot, the forgotten parking attendant boss
By Johannes Simbolon
JAKARTA (JP): He was feared by vehicle thieves across Jakarta for decades. He once reigned over parking lots throughout the city and created the unique parking attendant system the city administration continues to inflict upon Jakartans.
His name is Samin Kitjot, a diminutive Betawiman who looks 40 despite his 85 years. His past glory is sadly gone.
"I have nothing left," the former parking lot king explains.
A feeble radiance pops onto his face as he moves his story past his glory days to his favorite topic; when the city administration took over his parking business in 1972 and then betrayed him.
"I worked hard to manage parking in Jakarta. After I set it up, the government took it over," he grumbled.
Samin fought in the war for independence and proudly wears his uniform for photographs. During the revolutionary war against the Dutch from 1945 to 1949, he joined the Hizbullah force, a faction in the national guerrilla army. He was given the rank of captain for bringing about 250 troops with him. He was later demoted to lieutenant, he doesn't know why.
"I had amulets that made me resistant to stabbing and kept me safe from Dutch bullets," asserts Samin, who had wandered across West Java learning native martial arts since boyhood.
He freely admits that people began to follow him after he hacked a feared Betawi thug to death in Pasar Baru -- then the main shopping center in the city. The victim had reportedly harassed Samin's friend. Samin was sentenced to four years in jail by the Dutch authorities and automatically became the "big boss" in the area when he was released.
Pasar Baru
He started his parking business after the war.
"I saw Dutchmen organize and make good money from the parking at Pasar Baru. When the Dutch left, there was no one to organize the parking. I took the initiative," explains Samin, son of a tradesman.
Samin's business grew by leaps and bounds - helped along with heaps of muscle. All Jakarta's major thoroughfares fell into his hands. At the peak of his power, his empire included the center of Jakarta; reaching from Jl. Hayam Wuruk and Jl. Gajah Mada to the west, Jl. Mangga Dua and Jl. Pangeran Jayakarta to the north, Jl. Gunung Sahari and Jl. Sawah Besar to the east and Jl. Kantor Pos and Jl. Gedung Kesenian to the south.
Samin then got a license from the city administration and paid a huge amount of tax in return.
Because parking was very lucrative, thugs fought each other for the plots.
"No one dared to encroach on an area once they heard it belonged to me," assured Samin.
That left them to fight over less lucrative territory outside of Samin's domain, including Jl. Sabang and the Blok M bus terminal. However, if a gang gained control of an area, they still needed to get Samin's consent. They would face his wrath and an invasion if they didn't.
Samin employed more than 500 parking attendants at his peak. He recruited them from vehicle thieves, ex-cons, pickpockets, thugs and vagrants. He had dozens of staff, half of them soldiers, to spy on the motley crew when they were on duty. He instructed each of his parking attendants to carry a machete tucked away on their hip. They wore dark-blue uniforms with a badge bearing the logo PKA (Penjaga Keamanan Auto -- Automotive Security Guards).
Each parking boy was assigned a set plot to attend -- one attendant was responsible for two electricity poles -- and each had to pay dues each day to Samin regardless of how much they managed to rake in. City parking authority BP Parkir still follows this crude system.
"I promised to pay anyone whose car was stolen or damaged an amount equal to their loss," recalled Samin.
But, he said, no car was ever stolen in his territory.
Samin lived very well, he befriended top officials and roamed across the city in his Morris in the company of several bodyguards.
"He was just like a president," recalls Bang Miun, 45, a former parking boy and now a BP Parkir employee. "If he was going to a movie, his private guards arrived at the theater several minutes in advance and kept other would-be watchers far from the place until Samin got inside."
Takeover
Disaster struck in 1972. The city administration formed the Parkir Jaya firm, later renamed BP Parkir, to take over the parking from men like Samin. Under pressure from the military, all the small scale parking bosses quickly surrendered and handed their plots and workers over to the firm.
Big boss Samin only relinquished his business after Parkir Jaya signed a promise to pay Samin Rp 10,000 a day plus 10 percent of the total revenue collected from his former territory. As it turned out, he only got a monthly pension of Rp 250,000.
"The firm owes me at least Rp 15 billion. I will take legal measures to get it," he announced, pointing to the city's 1972 promise.
Director of BP Parkir Sumaryono insisted that his company has nothing to do with the promise made by Parkir Jaya because they are different companies. Parkir Jaya, which was closed in 1977, was owned by the military and municipality. Its replacement, BP Parkir, is owned by the municipality.
"He is wrong to think of the area as his property. Our constitution clearly states that land and water is owned by the state," says Sumaryono.
Although his former parking attendants still attend to the same lots, "They never visit me. They forget that it was me who gave them the work," lamented the old legend.