Why I didn't set up my own business

By Idrus

I am an employee of an Indonesian import-export company. My office is a newly painted garage. I have a desk the size of a pocket handkerchief and an old rocking chair.

When I come to the office in the morning, I open an almost- empty cabinet and take out a stack of last month's newspapers and put them on my desk. These are the acts of a man eager to start in on lots of accumulated work. After this, I sit in my rocking chair and read the papers until my head droops onto my chest.

One time, while asleep in that chair, I found myself dreaming. The chief executive officer of the company came to me and asked in a nasal voice: "Why aren't you working?"

"Why do I have to work?" was my reply.

"You're my employee, aren't you?"

"No," I asserted, "I'm an angel."

Hearing this, he opened his wallet and gave me Rp 500. "Go back to being an ordinary human being," he told me. Then he jumped into his sedan.

After two months of being treated like an angel, a being that does not need to eat or drink, I was invited to the CEO's home one Sunday.

His house was beautiful and modern and located on one of the city's main streets. The property was so large that the CEO was able, or perhaps considered it necessary, to have separate entrance and exit gates for his car and the cars of cabinet ministers. He mentioned to me one or two times that he was certain state ministers would call on him at home.

Because I came on foot, I did not have to worry about which entrance and exit to use.

I was given a warm welcome by the CEO and two other people. One was a pretty woman who turned out to be the CEO's new wife, and the other, a middle-aged man, was the vice president of a small bank.

After inviting me to sit down on a comfortable chair, the CEO said to us: "All of you probably know about the new import regulations which oblige us to pay 40 percent in advance before we can import anything. I ask you, gentlemen, where are we supposed to get that kind of cash? You can be sure that no one is going to want to use his own savings for such a purpose."

Because the CEO was looking at me as he spoke, I felt obligated to offer my opinion. "But these regulations don't apply to our company..."

I would have continued but the CEO's face turned red with anger causing me to immediately look down at my shoes.

His next words seemed to be a reprimand: "How can they not apply to our enterprise? We are an import-export company, aren't we?" He laid special stress on the word "import".

After that, the CEO did not look in my direction again. Instead, he directed his remarks to the bank vice president and, in the course of their conversation, an agreement was reached that the bank's president would use his influence with a credit bank to obtain a loan for the CEO. For his assistance in acquiring the loan, the CEO promised to appoint the bank president director of our import-export company.

Quite unexpectedly the CEO then said to me: "And beginning from now, I appoint you deputy director."

The blood drained from my face and it was not until I arrived home that I fully realized that I had become a person of very great importance in the business sector.

The CEO then came to the office almost every day. Every time he came, he would ask if there was a letter for him. But every time he asked, I would have to spread my empty hands and shake my head regretfully.

One day, a letter really did come. As the CEO's car stopped in front of the office, I waved the letter at him from the inside of the office. He jumped out of his car and like a small child snatched the letter from my hand. He paid careful attention to the letter as he opened it and read its contents.

Suddenly, he shouted like a mad man: "We got it! We got it!"

At once he was back inside his car yelling to me, "Come tomorrow to the house and pick up your pay."

This was the first time I felt satisfied during my stint as deputy director.

Even though I received only one month's salary -- unless he thought that the Rp 750 he gave me was for five months' work -- I began to have real hopes for the firm. The CEO had been able to borrow Rp 400,000, the maximum permitted by the credit bank. Now surely, I thought, the company would grow.

In my imagination I would receive piles of letters each day from both inside the country and abroad. I would cheerfully seek overseas tenders and gradually form a staff of assistants.

But none of this actually happened. Our import-export company did not import or export anything at all and the firm's director never stuck his nose inside the door again. Eventually word came that the CEO was buying up agricultural land and homes. Thus, from being the CEO of a company, he had become a prominent property holder.

As for me, I went back to being an angel. I had long since thrown away my deputy director's tie and was spending my days doing nothing but playing chess with an unemployed friend of mine.

Unfortunately, since my friend could not tell a castle from a knight, he made the same moves with both pieces. So we finally stopped playing and just swapped stories all day.

One day, my friend said to me: "You have lots of experience in this company. Why not set up one of your own? I can help you get credit from a bank. If you like, you can become director and I'll be a member of the board. You'll be able to live in comfort and won't have to work here anymore."

I clasped my friend's hand in earnest. "That's a great idea. Let's do it! Try to arrange it for me."

In the garage the two of us danced for joy.

The next day, my friend returned to inform me that he had called on the justice minister and had explained to him our reasons for setting up a company. The minister had agreed in principle to help, but told my friend that he needed Rp 100 to cover various expenses. The money was to come from me.

Before my friend could finish what he had to say, I interrupted him. "It looks like my boss found out about our plans to set up a new firm because yesterday he paid me two month's salary all at once."

"Does that mean you won't be setting up a company?" my friend asked.

"Now there's no more reason to," I explained. "The CEO has promised to pay my salary regularly from now on."

This made my friend angry. "You don't have the guts, that's all. And to hell with the guy who calls himself a company director but is afraid to compete with us."

I did not respond. I looked at my shoes with their holes in the toes.

But my friend's attitude had changed completely. He was like a man begging. "Well if you really did get two months' pay, then surely you won't mind lending me Rp 100. We're in a real mess at home right now."

With some reluctance, I lent him Rp 25 and in my heart of hearts, with the money as capital, I hoped he would be able to set up a company that was 100 percent national.

Translated by A.L. Reber

This story is taken from Menagerie 3, printed here courtesy of the Lontar Foundation.

Born on Sept. 22, 1921, in Padang, West Sumatra, Idrus is regarded as one of Indonesia's best writers. He wrote several collections focusing on simple human themes. He worked at Balai Pustaka publishing house and was a correspondent for the newspaper Merdeka. In 1960, he moved to Kuala Lumpur, where he and his wife opened a publishing house and together published two magazines. He returned to his homeland in 1965 and was later offered a job at Monash University in Australia. He subsequently received his master's degree and later graduated with a doctorate at the same university. Idrus died in his birthplace in 1979.