The also-rans the other story of the elections

The counting has been done, the official results announced and the dust settled. But there is the other story of the country's legislative elections and it is far from over.

Seemingly forgotten are the candidates who failed to gain a seat, and are now shouldering a huge emotional and financial debt from their loss.

The elections allowed many of us -- professional politicans and neophytes -- to throw our hats into the ring. Three of them were my relatives, including a 38-year-old man, a father of four residing in Jakarta but bidding for a regional seat in his home province of Banten.

He quit his managerial level job in a mining company about one year ago for the position of dean at a local university for a small salary, believing it would allow him to present his views.

A member of a mid-level political party, he was first pick on the party's candidate list. He seemed to ignore the fact that his income of about Rp 15 million per month as a legislator would be far below his previous salary of Rp 20 million at the mining firm. Unless, of course, he went back on his promise not to be corrupt in office.

Serious preparation started about four months before the election. He financed his campaign with his savings of Rp 100 million and visited many places, including isolated areas. His parents' home was his headquarters, and his elderly mother and father were kept busy providing refreshments for all the prospective voters as they visited their home.

The latter came with different motives; some did want to meet him and know his vision, while others asked for freebies of T- shirts and stickers. There were also those in search of a handout, whether it was to build local mosques, provide sports facilities (including a soccer ball!), even those who wanted him to build toilets for their homes or pay for their childbirth costs.

At the very least, they expected him to provide them with the cost of their fare home.

Come election day, and the Rp 100 million budget had swelled to Rp 300 million, funded with money taken from our family's insurance plan and the refinancing of his car, plus Rp 50 million in a loan.

It did not seem to worry him, for he heard glowing reports about his chances from his campaign team. He ignored a warning from a colleague that the local people might be telling the same thing to other candidates, while begging for everything in return for their support.

My husband and I decided we would support him on polling day, which my relative seemed to regard as a kind of festive celebration not unlike the post-fasting month holiday of Idul Fitri.

The results looked good; he had 182 out of 289 votes cast at the nearest polling booth to his parents' home, and 140 of 278 at the other place nearby. He smiled, but it disappeared from his face when the official results were announced. His party only garnered 17,000 votes, way below the 25,000 of the lowest-ranked elected candidate.

Now, like the other losing candidates, he is in his cooling down phase, thinking about he will muster the money to pay off his debts. "If I were a traveler, it would be like I've bought a one-way ticket. I'm sorry that I didn't have a backup plan," he lamented.

He was not the only one. One of my other relatives spent Rp 450 million on his losing campaign. I tried to console him by saying that a failed Golkar Party presidential candidate frittered away billions of rupiah for nothing.

But defeat is hard to take. I heard of someone else who lost and spent the next two days banging a spoon on a mug alone in his room, refusing to meet anybody.

Still, one of my three relatives made it through to the House of Representatives. I called to congratulate him, but the call was taken by his wife, a religious studies teacher at a noted Islamic school.

"I don't know if this is really a success for us," she said, worried. "I am just afraid my husband couldn't stand the temptation to be corrupt. Many people -- his family, party colleagues, supporters -- feel they are owed something for his success.

"You know, 37 supporters have already come by, urging him to find them jobs."

I was speechless when I hung up the phone. And then I silently thanked God that my other two relatives had not been elected.

-- Yoyoh Hulaiyah Hafidz