indonesian farmer's story

azam farmer

My name is Azzam Samudera, the eldest son of three brothers. I was born and grew up in an environment where the majority had a livelihood as a farmer, or as a laborer. The bad news is that I became one of them. At 22 years old, earlier this month. I felt a long-buried excitement deep in the depths of my heart, a feeling of tightness and boredom that I did not understand myself, continuing to lurk incessantly. Life is all mediocre and eating only potluck, making me tired.

There is nothing to be proud of an Azzam, as if I was born without any conceivable advantages. 'Samudera' which means the vast ocean, in the hope that I can become a pedestal for parents, I can not afford it. I feel bad as a sister. It all started when he went to the field seven years ago. Due to his usual limitations, we could only take him to the village masseuse, until he was declared paralyzed until now. Mother who is also often sickly added to make me live a life of prey. Not to mention, having to take care of the younger siblings who still taste school, making my burden even heavier and not infrequently I continue to complain, for example like today.

"Zam! Azzam, you've been sleeping son!"

I drowned my head behind this worn-out pillow, as mother's hoarse voice sounded. Mother would definitely tell me to take a loan of money from Pak Jaka, a loan shark who used to give loans but with not a little interest. I was tired of all this, the need for more, and my inability to deal with the pace of growth, made me lose the competition. In the end, I could only stroke the chest of patience, facing the rigors of living in this reform order.

"You've been sleeping." I can feel those wrinkled hands rubbing my head. I still choose to close my eyes, enjoy the touch that almost every night is always given by the mother every time her children sleep. I cried, this clear liquid kept pressing, forcing it out. The more gently the hand stroked my flap hair, the more it blocked this breath until a gentle kiss landed smoothly on my forehead.

"Sorry!"

One word that was said so softly from his mouth, managed to make my tears race out of the nest. My mind was throbbing in pain, I don't know what would happen if I opened my eyelids at this moment. Trying hard I resisted this wild turmoil, I bit my trembling lower lip, wanting it to feel like I was screaming, roaring with all my heart.

I gradually opened my eyes, as my footsteps widened far from my room. The pillow that I had previously made my hiding place cry in silence had been soaked by the salty liquid coming out of my eyes. I smiled bitterly, choosing to pretend to sleep, even though my crying did not stop.

The next morning, I woke up early as usual. Peci is already perched neatly on the head, a shabby glove that I only wear accompanied by a long-sleeved koko outfit. Maybe it was the last new outfit I'd seen in five years. I rushed to the front manau, the usual dawn prayer there.

"O Allah, why are servants so weak as to withstand Your trials? Forgive the servant who complains too often to You. Servant wants to give up, but this feeling of fear continues to haunt .. please help servant, please strengthen servant."

My tears broke again at the end of this morning, My chest felt stabbed in a hole, creeping easily without significant obstacles. My lips continued to tremble no longer able to continue my prayer.

"I will not ask You to lift Your trials, I will not beg you to relieve them, only one ... Strengthen the servant to continue to patiently face it. O Allah, grant it, grant it! Aamin ...."

I closed my prayers in my heart with relief, only in this way, I was able to spill a small load that I was carrying on both of my shoulders. God who hears me, sees me, watches me, and loves me.She is the only place I lean on.Here I pour out all my heartbreak, when I feel tired living this scenario of life.

"Son Azzam!" I turned my head, as the voice greeted my eardrum. The corner of my lips lifted knowing my exemplary figure was smiling towards me. Immediately, I stood up, attached to a man who looked dignified at his age who was no longer young.

"Sir Ustaz!" my broom, kiss her hand. He gave a big smile, then invited me to sit on the porch of the surau. We sat side by side, with straight eyes. I heard him several times, he seemed to breathe air and then throw his breath before staring at me.

"Why do you think God created man?" tanyanya.

"For us to worship him?" I answered, still watching him who kept stalling a smile.

"You're right Azzam. But you forgot one thing." My eyebrows swooped sharply, astonished. What did I forget?

"What did I forget, Ustaz?" I asked, getting closer to him even I had shifted to face my body to him.

"God created beings so that we may know His power in governing all things. Including the tests that humans face!"

I bowed for a moment, looking at my footwear which was only these worn flip-flops. "Did Mr. Ustaz hear me ..," I said slowly, slightly paused.

I'm a little gag. Unknowingly tears came back. I immediately wiped it rough, looking in the white-fisted man in front of me. His hand rubbed my stocky shoulders, "The key is patience, son!"

I nodded my head once more, justifying his words. I don't know why I'm always touched every time I hear his advice. Maybe it's true, patience is the key to the ordeal that is pressing me. I carved a smile, not forgetting to kiss the back of his hand before deciding to go home.

I pulled the door leaf made of the sponge, sliding it slowly. My eyes caught my little family sitting on a mat, I saw my little sister and brother, Aisyah and Sadam were also neat in their uniforms. My feet stepped quickly, as if impatiently reaching their bodies. Kurengkuh Sadam and also Aisyah, tightly. Smelling the tops of their heads in turns, whatever made me want to do it, my heart seemed to be pushed without coercion. They squirm a little, perhaps astonished at my behavior.

"What's up, Zam?"

As soon as I stopped my ignorant actions, my gaze was now focused on looking at the mother who had just walked out of the kitchen. Seen from both hands that were carrying rice and simple side dishes.

"Tomorrow ... Azzam looking for additional jobs huh buk!" I said carefully.

"Not that mom does not agree, but will you not be able to do it later? Sawah Pak Danu is not still you who hold, do you want to start working what?"

I realized what Mom said was right. But my decision has been unanimous, many times I think about it, I will not give up just like that. "Mother, Azzam was strong. Hey, you guys saw Azzam's big muscle, right?" I immediately set my sights on my two cute dwarves.

"Sir Azzam what's wrong?" sahut Aisyah, astonishment.

"Yes, suddenly it's weird like this?!" Not to be outdone the Sadam chimed in with an amused look.

"What do you mean, you guys talk like that? can't it?!" Of course I felt offended and unconsciously I turned my lips, which actually added to their laughter increasingly blaring, including mothers who tried to hold back laughter.

"Eh already. Azzam is a good example!" reprimand mother, while lifting a small pinch to my waist.

"Wuck!!" The two stuck out their tongues, as if mocking my suffering. Let me look at a small wall clock that hangs not far from our simple wooden room. Still morning.

"Where's father buk?" I asked to look at the mother who was busy putting food on the mat.

"Still in the room, let me ...."

"No, let Azzam!" cut me up who stood straight towards my father's room. I smiled broadly, looking at the teaching father on his bed. My feet eagerly approached him, at that time also his rare smile expands adorning his old face. I sat on the edge, rubbing the back of her hands gently.

"We eat yuk sir! After this, let Azzam take a bath father. Like the mother of soy sauce, after weaving all day yesterday," invite me while helping you stand up. I caught a fine wrinkle around his eyes, a gurgle of happiness there.

The mother who saw us emerge from behind the door, looked bright. The mother reflex is half standing, helping the father to sit. In front of us there is a simple dish in the form of half a basket of rice that is still puffing hot smoke and salted fish and red sauce in cobek.

Sadam the youngest, the most enthusiastic among us all. Maybe because this is one of the most delicious dishes, even though it is just a salted fish plus a little bit of default, for our small family, this is a pleasure that should be grateful. The father as the head of the family leads the do'a meal. Followed by us who raise hands, hoping this food can bring blessings and kindness. This morning, the atmosphere was so warm. I keep putting my best smile in front of them. A smile that can describe happiness in the heart that cannot be said.

At 06:15 a.m., our meal ended. Aisyah and Sadam rushed off to school after greeting us. Kulirik mother who was cleaning our former food container, assisted by father. Honestly I am happy, no matter how much distress our family experienced, in fact until now God still provides a way for us and our family to survive. I admit, my heart is weak. I felt like I wanted to laugh at this self who was involuntarily complaining. I decided to start today again to start a new day. There is nothing wrong with crying, I think crying is also needed when I start to feel tired in the midst of heart-wrenching despair.