The Malang Widow

Removed from work

Gradually, my stomach grew. The burden that I felt was getting heavier, my life and trials were relentless like I was punishing me.

The lyrics of cynical eyes I felt at every step of my steps by my contracting neighbors. Cynic sneers and subtle innuendos also often spread in my ears that would not want me to lump tightly to strengthen my heart.

Likewise with my colleagues, the conversation about me also spread throughout the hospital. Whispers here and there make me their warm theme on the sidelines of their work. I'm the only one who is silent trying to continue to raise my heart for my baby who I love, even though I'm really anxious if this is to sound management, soon I too have to get out of here.

My slightly thin body makes me unable to cover the shape of my stomach that is increasingly bulging and more pointed than my nose.

"How many moons?" greet a patient of mine while pointing at my stomach which she was pregnant with and check the contents in my place.

"Owh, it's 6 months ma'am" I replied nervously.

"Well, hopefully we will be equally smoothly after delivery yes mbak, this is me also 6 months" she said while rubbing her stomach and immediately held by her husband with a friendly.

I could only sigh at their affection. Imagining that if Deri was with me at this time maybe he would accompany me to check the content like that.

A few days passed, I did not think I received a letter from the management of my hospital. Despite a heavy heart flailing anxiously, I tried to meet the call that morning. In front of the director of my hospital, I looked down embarrassed, I could already guess what he would talk to me about.

"Are you pregnant with flowers?" ask him with a tense look.

"Dad, I'm sorry sir" I replied with a sigh of relief trying to strengthen me.

"Well, sorry we can not hire pregnant women with status outside marriage, let alone you junior employees who have not been able to get maternity and childbirth leave, in the name of this hospital, for example, with a heavy heart we must lay off you". Clearly it is firmly.

I just kept quiet and couldn't explain anything. I accepted even with a very troubled heart.

"Oh Allah... What should I do after this, where should I find money for the cost of my life and my future child?" my sluggish murmured with slow rolling tears.

I packed the things at my place of work. I returned my pride uniform and my work equipment that I had lent. The last paycheck and the little severance I held in my savings book that might help me in the next few days.

No different from my contracting environment, the boisterous voice of gossiping mothers began to no longer hold me back who had to immediately move from contracting it. Moreover, I who do not earn anymore will certainly make me harder to pay this contract every month.

One by one I sold my things, including some of Deri's things he had left for me. The little money I get I hold of for the cost of my life. Some items that are not sold I give to my neighbor who is diligent in gossiping. He accepted it a little, for he often sneered at me.

Immediately I packed my clothes which I put in my rangsel bag, and I stepped away to leave this bitter city.

"Mayakarta....Jakarta yok..live!" shouted one of the bus kernets offered to me which immediately shook my mind to go there.

I finally decided to move to Jakarta. With hope, I can scavenge the fortune there to live my life with my son later, although it has not occurred to me what I will do later.

The roar of the people in the bus accompanied me who was sitting beside the window staring at me and continued to shed tears of the fishermen. While occasionally wiping the fetus in my womb, I also continue to strengthen my heart.

"Gadung Pulo....Pulo Gadung habes....!!!" the cry of the kernet woke me up from the sound of my sleep on the bus.

I slowly came down with my condition weak. Some people who passed by looked at me pity to see a pregnant woman traveling alone without assistance.

I stepped towards a chair in the corner of the terminal to rest for a moment. I chewed a loaf of bread that I had slipped in my rangsel bag to prop up my stomach which began to call out from hunger.

I observed the terminal activity that began to solidify as the sun began to heat up the sign of the day getting more and more noon. I was tempted to become a hawker like just the figure of mothers carrying children passing in front of him peddling his sales while holding his young child.

"Maybe it could be that I could set an example to connect my life temporarily" I murmured.

Armed with the capital from the rest of my salary, I bought some food and supplies to babysit. Meanwhile, my luggage was left in the mosque around where I stayed while there, while I found a suitable place to live, and cheap of course, considering my finances are not possible.

A few hours passed after going back and forth no one had bought my sale yet. The slowness of my body plus the thirst that peaked made me have to stop for a moment sitting over on the sidewalk on the sidewalk.

My stomach tightening a sign of fatigue made me no longer able to hold this box of support.

"Woi, you maen embat my territory!!!! sono if you want to sell not here, this is my territory, you find sono laen region, the basis of mother bunting is not clear, already bunting aja want to ngasong anyway!" ketus one of the pedangan asongan that fierce.

I who was powerless against a man whose stature was similar to that of a thug finally chose to pass to the mosque where I stayed last night. I cleaned myself in the bathroom, and immediately I did Duha prayers in the mosque.

A tearful divorce accompanied my prayer poem at that time. The weakness that I felt made me unable to bear to scream before the God of my God whom I had long forgotten and even insulted my actions that were so disgusting to Deri in the past.

I asked him for forgiveness and help. That is all I can do and relax my heart. I don't know who else to complain to, nobody wants to know about me. This heavy burden I must carry alone, as if only the water is my friend at this time.

"Eh mbk, if you want to stay do not in the mosque, in the hotel sono, then how dirty? it's not comfortable!" reprimand a mosque takmir that I stopped by.

Not long ago I rushed out while wiping my tears that had not stopped pouring. My steps continued, although I did not understand where I should go and where I was looking for a shelter for me to live.