FIZAH (Female Kolong Garbage)
PART 161 "Paparazzi"

*Nizami's Ibban

I haven't put up an insta feed in a long time. Last two months ago. I left my account empty. I myself have also very rarely opened my social media on that one since I moved to Tulungagung. One front-page shot of the pesantren becomes the next feed. What caption fits? While thinking, move my camera to another point of view. I furrowed my eyebrows. My shots earlier weren't very good.

I'm trying to find the right angel. Then one of them suddenly appeared on the terrace. Sculpt for a moment. He was carrying a knife. Look straight ahead. The body is not high is also not short, commensurate with the plaid-box gambis blend of dusty pink and broken white. I don't understand women's styles. Including what kind of model he's wearing now. But, I can only judge the scene in front of me to be more aesthetic. I was aiming without his knowledge. The second shot when he had taken three steps forward while fixing the veil, draped his pass-shaw to the left shoulder. Cracks! It just so happened that she turned her head slightly towards me, but not to the point of looking at me. Exactly it. I shot it perfectly. I used to be a cameraman when there was an event in the pesantren. I wanted to be a photographer, but my mom didn't like it very much.

I watched her pluck the flowers gracefully. He gouged, let his robe spread across the yard, then sorted and picked whichever blooms were ready to be picked. Picked one by one, then he pinned it to his left hand. Sometimes he kisses her first before the knife slashes the stalk. He just took some. Then he stood up while wagging the end of his game that he felt was dirty.

Then I saw something fall down nearby. More precisely I knew it was like something that had just been thrown. I'll get up soon. I approached him who hesitated about to take the item. Step accelerate. I'm afraid it's something dangerous. I picked it up before the fingertips touched.

I open slowly. Apparently just a rock. But, I saw a line of writing listed on the paper. I threw stones in any direction, I read the message.

I'm watching you. You just have to wait for time.

Although the message did not mention the name it was sent to and who it was sent to, I knew who it was addressed to. It's a message of terror. It is also impossible that the person whose intentions are frightening and threatening will write the name. I immediately tore up the paper without any consideration. Fizah cannot know it. She's the only troubled woman in this place. It was likely that his successor was also the one who had chased him that afternoon. Unfortunately I didn't find anyone across there. That guy might have left. I'm thinking hard. Is this how dangerous it is? His soul is threatened. Before they managed to find Fizah, it is certain that they will continue to terrorize Fizah like this. Still good, it's just writing. Suddenly I became worried that terror would be sent in another form of threat. And, it is precisely such terror that can disturb a person's psychic. Until he asked me what paper I was reading, I was forced to shift the conversation. I pointed to the jasmine that was as fast as it had been out within two meters.

After my brief, quite intense conversation with Mbak Ufi, I didn't get any answers either. I thought he was Fizah's best friend, he could tell me. At least what big things have made Fizah still feel uncomfortable or since when did she get the terror?

What does that man really want? Where can I find him? Only Yazeed might know where and who the real culprit was. My guess won't be strong enough. Besides, I've been watching the pesantren all day, no more suspicious scenes. But, maybe I should talk to Kang Bimo about it. He's been in bed long enough and knows all about this pesantren. I approached him while he was still having breakfast on the terrace with the other students.

"Monggo, Mas, have breakfast first" he said.

"Ngggeh. Mongos!" I said.

"Nggo, Mom, if you haven't had breakfast." He along with three other senior santri was busy eating the papaya lodeh menu and the tempe tofu side dish.

"Croup, Kang." He put it near me.

"Snack."

One of them there who still did not hesitate to repeat the offer so that I want to join the morning menu which he said was very good.

"Nggeh already, Kang. I've been walking around since dawn while looking for food." Once again keep an eye around the pesantren. Yes maybe I suddenly found faces that are still faint in my memory. I would instantly recognize if I ever met the two of them again.

I approached, whispering to Kang Bimo, "Kang, can we talk to you for a second?"

"Nopo, Mom?" (What, Mom?) Gets me. Showing an enthusiastic expression.

"Nggo njengan finish the breakfast first."

"Personal nature, nggeh?"

"Yes." Yeah."

Kang Bimo stood up. Wash her hands with soap near the front faucet of the room terrace. He also gargled. Dehemated. Walked near me. I got up because he told me to talk somewhere else.

"It's just asking a few questions."

"Mongos!"

We continued to move towards the saung.

Passed some son santri who cleaned the yard. Sweeping and pulling grass. Some plant new plants in rows of paper flowers and roses. Others carry buckets of watering plants in front of the ndalem.

"Is Gus Yazeed very close to Fizah? Why, I mean Ning Niya?"

"Wow, I'm confused, Mom, how to answer. They had only met outside the boarding school to talk about something. It might be so privacy that they don't meet here."

"Oh, yeah." I'm mangosteen. "Then, did Kang Bimo ever hear of this boarding school being watched by someone?"

"What's watching, Mom, you mean?"

"Mean no?"

"Attent. I also don't understand how to be watched? Is anyone doing something so bad?"

"Yes." Yeah."

"Thank God if that's what I've never heard. Alhamdulillah ndalem family never dhawuh anything to santri-santri. But, if the boarding school is in danger, Abah should be sampun dhawuh (had said), Mas."

"Oh, so. But, really yes before, no one had received threats or the like?"

"Alhamdulillah no, Mas. Did Kang Nizam suspect anything? If so, monggo Mas I accompany matur (by the way) to Abah."

"OKAY. But, I want to go to Darul Amin first. I'll tell you again."

"Need friends, Mas?"

"Mboten (no) no."

"Kok I became a messy mind in 2004 that."

"Maybe it doesn't happen."

"Snapjeh. Aamiins. If you need anything, I'm ready to help you."

"OKAY. I'm leaving first."