The Journalist

Part 26: Women in the Land of War

So and I went to one of the largest refugee camps directly adjacent to Jordan. To save costs, we use bus transportation even though it takes quite a long time to get there. From Zaheera's information, it is in this refugee that is allegedly the most cases of female abuse.

Throughout the trip, I opened emails many times just to check messages. In fact, last night was my last conversation with Zaheera. Until now, he has not sent any more messages, while I have no reason to contact him first.

To shake off my boredom, I took out a pocket Arabic dictionary and tried to memorize some everyday vocabulary. With the case that I want to nailak, it makes me more eager to learn Arabic. Over the past few days, I took the time to meet Kamal Malek and started learning Arabic vocabulary everyday.

There are some similarities between Arabic and Japanese. Like combining consonant and vowel letters so that the reading becomes long, there are also letters that are read double. It makes me feel not so difficult to learn Arabic. Through Kamal Malek as well, I began to know the customs, customs, and beliefs held by the people in this country. Including answers to things I didn't understand while with Ameena.

So's snoring sound that was quite noisy slightly disturbed my concentration. Even his head was on my shoulder. I closed the dictionary while grunting. Take a moment's look at the window next to my seat. I gasped to see the expanse of desert as a view along the way, coupled with some camels walking in the hot sun.

Immediately I opened the window of the bus, then stretched my hand out to feel a gust of wind. Like Dejavu. It doesn't feel like two months have passed since the events in the desert. However, those memories were still so lingering in my mind. Not one less. Until now, I have not given up on finding traces of Ameena, just to ask her how she is doing and show her a collection of sky photos I take every day.

Will that hope be achieved?

I don't know ....

Finally arrived at the location after passing a full day road trip. I immediately contacted Yuna so as not to worry about my situation. Afterwards, So and I went for a walk around the largest refugee camp in the country. Almost like an urban in the past.

We can see thousands of Syrian refugees going about their daily activities. Even being engaged in search eyes such as selling coffee and cakes to offer laundry and haircut services. Yes, we did not waste coming here because their activities are very interesting to cover.

A white boy came closer to us. The boy lowered his head and directly touched our shoes, pointing at his wooden bag containing a shoe polish. Apparently, he was offering shoe polish services.

I crouched down, positioned parallel to him while taking off one shoe on my foot. The boy was so happy when we wanted to use his services. He then gave his bag that could switch functions as a seat.

"Interface?" I try to talk to him. (What's your name)

"Ismi Marwan" he answered.

"Min aina anta?" (Where are you from?)

"Ana min Aleppo." (I'm from Aleppo)

Ah, I know, it's one of the cities that was destroyed by this war. I kept trying to practice talking to him even though my language was still stiff because it was helped by the dictionary.

"Hey, since when did you start speaking Arabic?" ask So wonder.

"I've been interested in learning it lately" I replied.

After polishing our shoes, I paid his wages and also gave him the kebabs we had bought on the way. He devoured the food like a starving man in front of us. It got me hooked to ask.

"Hey, sister, we're journalists. I have something to ask you. You can answer it by typing on my phone." I showed this sentence in my phone.

He read it, then replied with a mouth filled to the brim. "Good, Brother."

"Is your family complete?" ask with the help of translation apps.

"No, my father died in an assault on our city. Just me, my sister and my mother."

"Where did you and your family take help?"

"We're just waiting for the volunteers who come to give us rations. They're volunteers from the Turkish border."

"Why not take in an international aid agency?"

I'm squeaking. There is no mistaking the practice of exploitation of women in every refugee camp. From Zaheera's story, parents in this country make girls as a medium of exchange for their sons who are prisoners of the government and extremist groups. For women caught raped, the family prefers to kill him because it considers it a great disgrace. That is what makes these women choose to shut down and are reluctant to report the abuse they experience.

For hundreds of years, women have been harmed in war. Women in war lands have to experience things that are not humane. War leaders made them as a medium of exchange to weaken opponents and take the hearts of allies. Their independence was completely stolen. It's like being thrown by people.

In fact, I just learned that the Japanese military had abused and raped women in China, Korea, and Southeast Asian countries during World War II. I discovered this fact while reading a history book in my college library. Don't think this is in our history books. Of course the government is trying to close this dark history.

My phone suddenly sounded the notification of the incoming email message. I hurriedly opened it.

"Assalammualaikum, yes ... Nissa. Tomorrow, I will also go to a refugee camp on the Jordanian border to deliver donations. I heard that the refugees there are threatened with starvation because the government closed all access routes for aid entry. I will also interview some of the women in the refugee camp who have been victims of abuse. Too bad it's just your friends going there, but I was hoping we'd meet there."

Reading the message, made the corner of my lips small interested. In addition to women and children activists, she is also active in volunteering for aid in refugee camps. This makes me really salute him. Yes, I like female characters who have a great sense of empathy and caring. A character like this, I had only gotten from Yuna before which was the reason I fell in love with her and couldn't turn away for eight years.

Wait, if he's also coming here, it means I might have a chance to see him secretly. I was also curious to know what kind of figure became this virtual friend. He is quite mysterious for being reluctant to give his profile.

***

The sky had just darkened, but the atmosphere in the refugee tent had already seemed deserted. People, especially women, prefer to lock themselves in tents. So and I continued combing the refugee area which was dominated by white tents. We use press vests as journalists' self-markers. So busy recording with his camera, while I was busy observing the circumstances around. Most of the refugees are still dominated by women and children.

Tonight, we should be able to get evidence of the bizarre activity photos of refugee camps, especially international aid tents. Because, the writing of a journalist must be based on facts, really happen and contain the truth. As a journalist, I must have the ability to think agile and critical, and be able to analyze events that occur around me.

We started the investigation when the night started late. We took off our vests and chose to wear ordinary, inconspicuous clothing. So it's ready with a handycam camera to record. I hung my camera around my neck to photograph suspicious activity in an international aid tent.

Of course it's not easy. We had to sneak around like intruders, passing through shrubs and uneven ground filled with huge rocks. In fact, avoid some UN soldiers who are on guard at any point.

So and I chose the higher ground to monitor the situation. From that place, we could see some young girls who had come with a man to the aid tent. Soon, one by one, they were taken by the officers there. All their activities we recorded.

I'm really curious, where did they take the girls? Each of the officers chose a different path. I'm trying to get off to tail one of them. Followed me from behind. Suddenly So slipped up to make some large rocks stepped on by him roll down there.

The guards turned towards us. They were shocked and looked around. I caught So's hand to hold him. If not, he will fall down. I tried my hardest to pull So up. The rocks that became the footstool So more and more fall down. The grass that covered our bodies also seemed to sway.

"There's intruders! There's intruders!" The sound of the cries of the aid tent guards suddenly echoed.

Shit, we sniffed at a time like this! Worse yet, the soldiers at some point immediately ran to that place.

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Author notes ⁇ ️️

About the abuse and exploitation cases experienced by thousands of Syrian refugee women is true, yes. It was even confirmed by the UN itself if it was true. But the case in this story with the real life version certainly will not be exactly the same. If from the news that circulated it was even more tragic, more cutting even more inhumane. And the abuse was not only done by aid agents, but also came from extremist groups, military personnel and many more.

In war ... want it war in any country, want from the time of the ancestors until now it is indeed the most miserable women, gays. That's why I'm interested in bringing up this case in Kei's story. Regarding what Kei said, if their country tries to cover up the dark facts of the past, it is true.

So, Japan was once hated by almost all Asian people, gays. After world war 1, Japan is increasingly arrogant and ambitious to win world war 2 by occupying some parts of Asia. Hence the purpose of the Japanese colonizing it was actually to win the war. If not bombed by an atomic bomb like America, maybe Japan has mastered Asia and formed a country like the Soviet Union. Well, the dark facts of their behavior in the past, there is nothing in the history textbook. So, young people in Japan today only a few who know if the ancestors were invaders.

Btw, Indonesia has also colonized loh, gays. In our history books, the country was once part of our territory. But in their history books, we are instead considered invaders. I can't believe the check on Google.