The Journey of Child Life Outside of Marriage
07
👉 mother Ningsih 👈
Starting from the symbok delusion
it's been a month since I never slept well.
every night he would be delirious crying roaring.
calling out the name of his long-separated half-brother.
__"Martinah"__
that is the name that is often called.
not only that.
simbok also called the deceased _"pa'enya"_ who had long died , and was buried in the residence of the sister.
indeed, since bringing his deceased symbok back to this village, he never once made a pilgrimage to the tomb of his father who was far away there.
it's not because he can't remember, it's the distance factor that makes him unable to come.
only the recitation of Alfatihah, Yasin and Tahlil that he never forgot he sent, both every Friday night and after the five prayers.
at first it was just a disturbed family
over time, the neighbors began to be disturbed.
not infrequently they come to visit in the middle of the night, due to disturbed in his deep sleep due to the activity of symbols.
it's not just the symbols that ask to be delivered there.
neighbors also suggest that.
but strangely the symbok is still very memorized village, subdistrict, district where the sister lives.
even to RT and RW.
and from there Ilyas, anaku . began to search for information, where the village was
and the route to take.
it happened that he had a friend of the police, so it was not difficult for him to write the information.
the trouble happened
simbok will be there with Ilyas escorted by car.
but obstacles happen, too,
Ilyas is required to take care of the books (books) to learn the santri, in the new school year, and for the month of Ramadan.
because he is one of the santri confidants of Mbah yai.
so the symbok will be there with Ismail ushered, my husband, but they will take the bus, because they do not dare to drive a car far.
again, trouble happened.
the plants on my husband's farm have a problem.
basically my in-laws are hard and hard to argue with and defeat.
not letting my husband go
and finally , here I am .
sit on one of the bus benches with the symbol, which will take us to the destination city.
we leave at five in the morning.
at 12 pm we just got to the destination terminal.
By asking one of the police
in the office near the terminal
i asked.
about the village or village I'm going to.
Thank God, because my position is far away, and only the first to come here,
there was one of the police officers who wanted to come along and look for the intended address.
about a quarter of an hour we just got to , at the destination.
surprisingly, his house was empty.
we ask the people around.
two TR , from the house before her, we just arrived
the police officer said goodbye after we reached our destination.
I saw gubug reot, weathered board, walled,
the tile is black, proven to have often been exposed to the sun and rain.
Assalamualaikum says.
I said on the doorstep
we were immediately greeted by a teenage boy, wearing a sarong that had changed color.the white shirt turned brown, and a matching color hijab that had a hole at the end.
I spread my eyes, after we entered
walls of planks that cover the sides of the house
there are many holes, because termites eat
from the ceiling, incoming sunlight that broke through through the cracks of the tile
must be this house if the rain will leak.
cornered in the room my eyes saw neatly arranged clothes in a pile of cardboard instant noodles.
o Allah how difficult is this life here????
while symbok
already crying roared while hugging the brother.
no matter the sound of the bed they were sitting on.
because the nail that holds the wood together is loosened.
sad indeed
mbok lek died in a symbiotic embrace.
my heart ached when I saw the teenage girl crying lamenting her fate left by the grandmother.
for seven days I was there with the symbok.
take care of tahlilan events and so on
from there, little by little I began to know a teenager named Soraya.
a kara girl who was exiled by the citizens for being a child outside marriage
I don't give a shit about that
I don't think humans can choose their own way of life.
I intend to bring her home.
I will be your son.
plus the late mboklek has also ordered like that.
my wish is not easy.
two families wanted him.
the debate happened.
Thank God I'm the winner.
my eyes glazed over as I helped her pack.
I saw the date of the month and the year Soraya was born exactly where I lost my son.
the name is almost the same
👉 Soraya Nafiah and anaku Nafi'ayatur Rohimah.
baby girl who died on the way to midwife.
the motorbike we were riding on was hit by a lorry.
our motor hit an electric pole.
in addition to losing the baby I also lost my uterus, my uterus had to be removed by accident.
sad yeah ... let alone my in-laws who originally disliked me.
because of economics and physics.
he repeatedly asked us to separate, but Ismail kept our household.
even bang Ismail refused blatantly when the mother asked to marry again.
I am also aware of my condition now, although it hurts me to keep asking Ismail to marry again, not even once I offer a woman who will be my honeymoon.
bang Ismail seemed to close his ears tightly, every time he heard my babble,
not infrequently I tell the words that come from the mouth of my in-laws.
" what is it to keep a barren woman,
got what he????, already poor ugly"
be it for many years I only took care of one child yes he was Muhammad Ilyas Abdullah, my husband's son from his previous wife.
my husband is a one-child widower
his wife left him to pursue another man after Ilyas was born.
Meylina is a Brazilian Chinese girl.
although of foreign descent but Meylina was born and raised in Indonesia.
it was only after Ilyas was born that he went to Amrik to pursue his beloved.
I'm the one from the baby Ilyas just as a baby sister. Now so mom really.
*********
it was a pleasure to feel, when I brought Soraya
can't wait to get home.
either I assume Soraya is my Nduk who left.
evil indeed, but I already consider Soraya as my own son.
just arrived at the terminal there was a man who claimed to be Soraya's biological father
he kept forcing Soraya to leave
whether it's my permission or not.
sad, disappointed, I went home empty-handed
my heart is empty.
until morning
there was a commotion in front of my house
the pickup truck Ilyas and his friend were driving to transport the books, a teenage girl was seriously injured.
snuggled between piles of cardboard boxes.
I did not dare to come closer
pity is unbearable, deep in my heart.
I just stared at him from far away.
like being struck by lightning during the day
when I found out that girl was Soraya.
the girl I considered my own son
the girl who was taken forcibly by the man who confessed to her father.
why did he force to bring it if only to be hurt
what's my Nduk Aya wrong????
and now here he is, in one of the hospital rooms for healing his physical and mental condition.
