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.