Love of the Journalist
116. Notes of the Journalist

...116. The Journalist's Note...

the Lands Plantentuin te Buitenzorg

Ten years later ....

The green carpet stretches. Hypnotize every pair of eyes that look. Eve coolness and shade of the tree as if it does not dull the sense of sight.

The kids ran to and fro. Playing soap bubbles into a balloon. Pursue each other. Past laughing. Feel the free day. Before tomorrow back to solid activities.

Birds fly from one tree to another. Sometimes flying low is just picking up a dry twig for the nest. Then back to his house on the sidelines of the trunk.

I looked. Looking up at the sky this morning. Some hang dark. Partly bright. But it doesn't discourage people from coming. Just to unwind or just look at nature.

I read the nicks again when I remembered my love story. I curled the corner of my lips upwards.

“Mother ... Mommy wants mochibo,” pinta 4-year-old with hunting breath pointing a box of open mochibo. After chasing straight away and sitting next to me.

He is my fourth child. Danika Jagadita's.

I held out a box of mochibo to him.

“Enak, yes, Dek?” my many.

“Enak, Nda.” Nika replied while giving her thumbs up.

Then came an adorable beautiful princess. With sweat and a red face. Breathing that breaths. Sit and lean on my back.

“Mother .. drink. Thirsty," she said.

This is Gry Gauri, my second son.

I wiped the sweat on my daughters' faces with a tissue. Before they finally returned to playing bubbles while laughing. Just because the bubble balloon hit their hair.

I nodded and smiled looking at him.

“Mother ... Mother, Sister Tala cheated!” Kala's turn complained, with a frown feeling cheated because of losing play. The boy was sitting near me.

He is Sandyakala the Equator my third child.

I shook my head, Kala always protested if she lost playing with her sister. Always looking for an alibi to maintain self-esteem, “Hust fair donk!” my tukas.

Kala is still grunting. Then approach his sister and come play them with soap bubbles.

Huh! That's their commotion. Our family's troubles.

In the end, Mas Danang's wish was granted. We have 2 daughters and 2 sons. Four children at his request first.

Yes, even though for 10 years it was not easy for us to go through. When Tala and Gry were not even 2 years old, Mas Danang had to move to South Sumatra Province. At that time, I was declared pregnant again.

Kala was born in a city famous for its iconic Ampera bridge. For about 2 years our family lived there. Before in the end Mas Danang had to move the task back.

This time to Gorontalo.

A city that holds so many memories. Lots of stories. And become a holiday destination city after Solo and Surabaya. It was there that I was declared pregnant for the third time. Surely to be our 4th baby candidate.

But, the happy news must be redeemed by the news of loss. Sadness news. Baapu left us all before waiting for the birth of Danika.

Sepadankah enough?  I don't think so. But I cannot deny destiny. All has been appointed by the Almighty.

That sadness doesn't seem to be coming all the way from us. Two months later we had to lose Neene. My deepest sorrow. Make us all. The same year with almost the same time.

What a hard year! A year full of exams.

I exhaled. My eyes are heating up. There was a foreign swish sneaking in my heart molesting.

“Baapu .. neene, we all miss.” Mumbles. I shrunk the corner of my eye.

KNS and KM companies continue to run as usual. Every year there is an increase in profits. I was once offered Jebe to work at KM. Also, Uncle Tilamuta also gave a position in KNS. But all I refuse. Not my field. They are the right and competent people there. My presence will only add to the chaos. I have a presence in the company just to attend a shareholder meeting. That's enough for me.

My decision to leave TVS follows Mas Danang I think is right. Although not completely abandon the media that has been ingrained. I'm still a copy editor at TVS. Become a contributor in a national television media. Sometimes they are freelance journalists in several online media portals. And lastly filled the blog with posts and glimpses of events that I had long left behind. All I do is happy.

Jebe's.

My cousin is getting closer to us. Especially since living in the Baapu residence. Almost every day coming home from work always invites children to play. I don't know why, Jebe likes kids so much. When viewed from age, my cousin should already have a family. But Jebe chose another path.

Even from Jebe, I heard from Torrid, his best friend's father was sick. Torrid himself has been convicted of involvement in the planning of the father's murder. Which is believed to be the 1st voice in the recording of that conversation.

However, just served a sentence not even one year Torrid was declared dead. Because of liver cancer that gnawed at him.

What about the other suspects?

Yes, the judge has ruled against the suspects. Thus having a permanent legal force or instracht van gewijsde. Their status turned to convict. Tala and Gry are 10 months old.

Why so long? Because this verdict has also undergone various levels of judicial process. The suspects appealed. But at the high court the judge's decision remains the same.

We are all grateful for the final verdict.

One member of the Central House of Representatives who sat on the VI commission during his era was also implicated in planning the father's murder. Who played the role of voice 2 in the recording of that conversation.

Then members of the Regional People's Representative Council were also declared involved. It is believed and confirmed to be the 3rd voice in the recording of that conversation.

Then the voice of 4 in the recording of the conversation was a Secretary. Who served as a courier.

And the last defendant was the former Governor before the era of Pakde Imam. He was cast as voice 5 in the recording of the conversation.

All were convicted according to their actions and criminal offences. Fair and transparent. Although it had run alot and there was tension from the pro-contra parties.

Where is the role of Om TF?

It is not nice to write the role of Om TF who has helped uncover this crime against humanity case. Although several times his name was mentioned in the related court. Moreover, he was calm there. Although .. yes .. it is almost too late. The case was almost closed.

With the revelation of the father's case at least reduce the list of bad precedents for law enforcement and human rights in this country. Not prolong the practice of impunity. Which if examined more deeply in fact there are still many cases such as father befalling our brothers.

As a result, hopefully the revelation of the father's case becomes a lighter for other cases that are still settling. Both cases of extra ordinary crime and cases of ordinary crime. Because we are all the same in the eyes of law enforcement and the government. Equality before the law.

Our life in Gorontalo is quite long. About 5 years. In the end, we had to move again for the umpteenth time.

But we are not allowed to participate in Mas Danang. Because the man was assigned in a conflict-prone area. That's Papua.

News news about the warming of the Earth of Papua did not escape always from my observation. Social conflict, politics, terrorism and even racism spread at any time. Exploded not knowing the victim. And become a time bomb for me.

It's at the end of the month's night. I got a call from someone who said my husband was shot.

Intan Jaya's. One area of conflict full of intrigue. With a myriad of weird problems. Never receding peace makes people shudder.

“With Ms Danang Barata Jaya?” the sound from across the street in the middle of the night made me aghast.

“Ya, right.”

“We from the Polda-Papua Police unit reported that Mr. was shot. Condition's stable. No need to worry. All are handled.”

I just popped out without saying anything. My tears are falling. This is what I'm worried about. I'mscared. Finally hit my husband.

“It is likely that in this week you will be sent home along with the replacement of TNI-Polri personnel who served in Papua.”

And yes, with very acute anxiety surrounding me, my husband called with a laugh. Oh my god .. has always been a habit I don't like. It’s real serious, not funny! Think of big things as trivial as usual.

“I'm a true adventurer,” the candle that makes me growl half dead.

“Only shot in right thigh,” huh, ‘only’ said? Just be right.

“I told you not to worry,” how not to worry?

“I love you ...” The phone call ended.

I took a deep breath while closing my eyes. I want to come to Papua now.

Four days after the shooting. My husband and his entourage finally came home. By using TNI AU's Hercules aircraft.

Haru's. Worriedly. Proud. Very sad and very deep sorrow. Because the plane carrying TNI-Polri personnel was not only carrying survivors but also carrying coffins that died on the battlefield.

What about the wives who lost their husbands on duty? What about the children who lost their fathers? Being a widow and an orphan from the vanguard warriors was not an option. Because of circumstances and destiny. Believe me, wives and children of the heroes of the nation, we are proud of you. This incident made me realize. That their lives are at stake just to defend this country. Gemah ripah loh jenawi. BELOVED INDONESIA.

“We go home.” Bring the man who approaches me.

I'm nodding. Danang grabbed my shoulders.

The final procession of respect for the fighters is over. It's time we got back home. I'm trying to equalize the steps. With the steps of the man beside me who was trained to use crutches to walk.

“I miss you so much,” whispered in my ear.

“Kids waiting for us.”

Just one year Mas Danang served in Bumi Cendrawasih. We were all taken back to Semarang. And in the end we were here.

The Mabes Polri.

It has been 1 month that the man has served there. And we all participate. Going back to Jakarta is like an old memory. I love sorrow and all its spices.

I was offered to work in television. This time behind the scenes. Become a producer of a news program.

I'm not afraid of any more incidents of crime. No more vomiting seeing victims bleed or mutilate. And certainly there is always something that makes me excited to keep going and continue to despair. A simple ideal thanks to my admiration for my father.

I kept that promise, Dad. My whisper in my heart.

I exhaled.

The Danang Barata Jaya. A man who always supported me. Always and assured that he was by my side at all times.

I never thought my love would be anchored to him. It just starts with a news story. Start of the mistake. Compulsion. And childhood memories that are too imprinted are very hard to forget.

The world is as wide as a moringa leaf. Maybe that's what fits our portrayal.

It's a weekend. The day my husband and I always try to take time. With children. Cluttering without limits. Disbursing energy freely. Even if it's just Ancol or Monas.

All places have their own peculiarities. Actually not because of its place, but rather the content of its togetherness. After all, family is primary. The family where we return home gave up fatigue and thirst.

Lands Plantentuin te Buitenzorg or Bogor Botanical Garden our destination today. By rolling out a mat on the grass. People have picnics in nature.

Bogor with all its beauty. Bogor with all the uniqueness, noise and of course culinary privileges. One of them is mochibo. Danika's favorite snack. It even becomes a mandatory snack that must be in the container of school supplies.

The two men who had finished playing football approached me. They are Mas Danang and Gentala. Mas Danang grabbed Tala's shoulder while laughing. Discussing the progress of Tala's game in dribbling.

Then remove the shirt that has been wet. I put a towel on them. But the man is always spoiled if near me.

“Sama Mommy,” while thrusting back the towel to me. I-i understand.

Kuraih returned the towel and wiped all the sweat that flooded Mas Danang's body. The man sat in front of me. While drinking water and talking to Tala.

“Next week start resume again yes, swimnya.” Danang. For 1 month in Jakarta we are still focused on accompanying them to school. They also need time to adapt.

“Yes, Yeah.” Sahut Tala, “sama sisters too, right?” continued.

“Iya donk! You become a guard for them if Dad doesn't exist.” Reply Mas Danang.

Tala smiled a smile.

“Tala change clothes first,” I ambush while putting a shirt on him.

“Kak Tala ... Sister Tala ... catch the butterfly, yuk?!” Take the new Danika along with Gry and Kala.

“Here's Daddy's son snuggling!” Danang pulled Kala's hand. He grabbed her shoulder and rubbed her head.

“Dengerin .. if you lose a game it's normal. Losing doesn't mean bad. Losing does not mean falling. Not that it can't win.”

“But losing teaches us to keep learning. Keep trying and get up to catch up,”

“So ..”

“He wants to win and hold Dad," Salak Tala.

“Kalo want to win should what?”

“Learn ... strive .. and semangaattt!!” Shouted Danika cheerfully.

“Pinter all kids, Dad.” Danang rubbed one by one their heads with affection.

Then they left me and Danang to catch the butterflies.

The man put his head on my thigh. I fed him with the Unyil bread.

“Where does it work? Smoothly?” Ask Danang.

I nodded with my left hand resting the mane that had seen some of the strands bleached. But still with the same body and muscles. The man always kept his fitness.

“No feeling yes. How time flies ... kids are already big.”

“If you think you have to accompany them now. They need you more.”

I'm menukas, “Mas,”

“If only .. I am mutated again. You guys stay here.”

I nodded in disagreement.

Danang chuckles, “If only, Darling.”

“I don't know until when here. But kids are now a priority.”

I smiled faintly.

“You're getting beautiful,”

I'm starting to get caught up.

“Totally. My wife is getting pretty. I think I can request one more.”

I rolled my eyeballs, lazy.

Danang Dagelak's.

I raise my head, “Mas, hope yuk! I think it's raining.” Then pat her shoulder.

The man moved. Help us to clean up the stuff we brought.

“Wait here, I call the kids first.”

I went back to the notebook that was lying next to me. Back scribble ink there.

That's our depiction. A little story of our family.

I never thought my journey would be like this, my love story would be like this. I returned to look. Raindrops began to fall from the sky. I think I should end this writing. See you back on another occasion. Before I close my notebook. I just wanted to say.

Thank you Lord.

Thank you to the universe.

Thank you dad.

That’s.

So-called.

Kirei Fitriya Tsabita's.

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