Victims of city-led forced eviction scheme left resigned to their fate

Rendi A. Witular, The Jakarta Post, Jakarta

With anguish written on her face and the cries of her four- year-old daughter ringing in her ears, Lastri hurriedly wrapped her belongings in a piece of worn-out cloth as she prepared for tomorrow morning, when the public order officers would come to tear down her plywood shack located on the West Flood Canal in Penjaringan, North Jakarta.

She cooked a meal, consisting of kangkung (leafy vegetables that grow wild in water) and fish, for her husband and her three children. After dinner, she wrapped up the leftovers for her family's breakfast as she knew there would be no time for cooking tomorrow morning.

After putting her children to bed that Sunday after midnight, she and her husband fought off their drowsiness and tried to stay awake, as there was a rumour that the public order officers would burn down their home.

Using a petromak (lantern filled with fuel) the couple walked back and forth to their shabby boat that floated on the river 10 meters from their shack. Slowly but steadily they filled the boat with their belongings: plastic plates, cups, cooking pans and clothes.

Lastri came to Jakarta 10 years ago from her remote village in Demak, Central Java. In Jakarta, her husband worked at the fish market in Muara Angke, North Jakarta.

Her husband earned Rp 15,000 a day at most, barely enough to feed the family's three children. The eldest was still in grade four of elementary school.

There were thousands of people living in the slums along the West Flood Canal. They were very busy that night, packing their belongings and preparing for the worst the next morning, when the authorities would tear down their homes.

Lastri's neighbor, Juhari, 60, who operated a getek (a type of houseboat that was used to make river crossings), had packed his belongings -- some clothes, a lantern, a cooking pan, two plastic plates and a mat -- before moving them from his shack to the getek.

The man, who lived by himself, told The Jakarta Post reporter who helped him carry his mat, that his getek would be his only form of shelter if the public order officers demolished his shack.

Juhari came to Jakarta from Serang, Banten, 25 years ago as a street beggar. He used the money he saved from three years of begging to build both his shack and the getek.

In the 1970s the area was quiet. But more and more people from outside Jakarta came and built slums along the canal.

Juhari could earn at least Rp 10,000 (US$1) a day using the getek to transport people across the river, from 4:30 a.m. to 10:30 p.m.

"Although it is small, just enough for one person, this getek is my only means of survival", he said.

Just like Juhari, Lastri and many other people living along the canal had no idea where they would stay after their homes had been leveled. They were fatalistic about the imminent destruction of their homes.

"Well, maybe I could rebuild my shack again from the leftover debris. I have no choice.... I have no money or family here in Jakarta", said Lastri.

Meanwhile, the clock continued to tick and when it showed 4:00 in the morning, Juhari, Lastri and other exhausted residents could no longer fight their tiredness and fell asleep.

At 7:30 a.m., the raucous sound of cars and trucks from the toll road, located just 30 meters from the shacks, woke Lastri and her family.

The couple hurriedly brought their children to the well, which had been dug out as a temporary source of water, for a bath.

They ate the leftovers of yesterday's dinner for breakfast and left their 12 square-meter home to gather with their neighbors, discussing what to do when the officers came.

They were still able to joke and tease one another, but within three hours their laughter would turn to tears.

At 11 a.m., when around 700 city public order officers arrived at the site, the residents made speeches protesting against the demolition. But even with tears rolling down their faces, they failed to prevent the officers from tearing down the shacks.

The officers bulldozed some 600 shacks along the canal.

Many of the residents, however, refused to leave the site and built new dwellings from the debris of their homes.