Forgotten People Of The Padang Earthquake

Aneesa Alphonsus

The survivors have no shelter, no food, no jobs, no help and they stay alive on hope that things will get better. 

SPECIAL

PADANG (Indonesia): Just before sunset on Sept 30, 2009, a 7.6 magnitude earthquake jolted this town and changed the lives of the residents forever. It killed over 1,000 people and left countless injured and homeless.

Now, those who counted themselves the lucky ones then, wonder if they are really the lucky ones. They are homeless, live from hand to mouth and there are no jobs.

“We wake up because the sun wakes us. There is nothing to do here. No jobs, no food, no clean water. There is nothing,” says Bustamen, a 57-year-old farmer who lost his wife and children in the earthquake.

Like Bustamen, Juanis is another resident who does not know where her next meal is going to come from.

The traumatised Juanis say she is in her 70s, does not know where her children are, and what time of the day it is.

But she knows that today her last ration of rice and some salted fish will be given to her 12 -year- old grandson.

Juanis, Robi and Bustamen are just three of the thousands who live in the aftermath of the Padang earthquake.

Speaking to Juanis and her neighbours in Jalan Padang Sarai, there is a sense that they knew it was just a matter of time before something like this happened.

A Loss Of Identity

Sitting on the same earthquake fault line that triggered the deadly 2004 Asian tsunami, the Indonesian city of 900,000 on the island of Sumatra is one of the world’s most vulnerable to seismic activity.

The 7.6-magnitude earthquake which jolted Padang, killed over 1,000 people and left countless others severely injured and homeless.

In addition, around 135,000 houses were damaged and an estimated 250,000 families (1,250,000 people) were affected by the earthquake through the total or partial loss of their homes and livelihoods.

Some, like Juanis lost much more – her inability to recall her father’s name is in a sense a loss of identity and it pains her that she cannot remember.

When asked if they receive any aid, another resident Hilam Roy said people come by now and again to deliver food rations. “We don’t know when they will be back again so we are very careful about how much we eat. Sometimes we have meals every other day,” he says.

By Malaysian standards, RM105 doesn’t even begin to cover a fraction of monthly rations for even a single person. But for people like Juanis, Bustamen and Hilam, RM105 translates to 300,000 Indonesian rupiah, enough for a family of four to buy basic food supplies to last a month.

Sometimes food is so scarce that the children are sent to the markets to ask the vendors for scraps. “People feel more sympathy when they see children,” says Marjan Tulas. “If adults go, they will think, ‘these are adults, why aren’t they working?’ I would work if they would give me a job,” he says, a bitter edge to his voice.

It is sunset in Padang and the villages gather outside their houses because it’s just too stifling inside. While some of the adults sleep, it is the children who are up and about.

“I am going to work,” says Robi who carries a bamboo broom with him. He sweeps restaurants and the five-foot areas where some stalls are located. He starts at 8pm and by midnight he makes his way home. The total haul for the night? Twenty-two rupiah, which is a little over RM7.

Survival Of The Fittest

When asked if he thinks it’s a good amount, Robi says yes because tomorrow, he can buy some rice, eggs and a little dried fish.

“Tomorrow I will go and help the butcher to carry some meat, sometimes he gives me a little beef to bring home,” he says.

Strolling the streets of Padang, it’s not an uncommon sight to see children walking on busy streets, knocking on car windows begging for some change.

Some are so little, their heads don’t even reach the vehicle’s side mirrors. Out of the seven cars two girls approach, only one window opens and in the moonlight, we see that there are no notes, just some coins which are handed to the children.

In Padang it is survival of the fittest. In the face of so much hardship, it seems almost cruel to ask them if they think the situation will get better. Their reply was surprising.

“There are days when things don’t look so hopeful, but I know that there are people who are trying to help us. I don’t think God will give me more than I can handle,” says Bustamen.

“But sometimes I talk to Him and tell him, ‘Can you stop testing me? I don’t know how much more I can take’. He sometimes listens, but I have to remind him often,” he says with a smile.

-- FMT