THE NOURA VAN KEMMERS

Rueben's diary

I opened the journal papers explaining the events of Gedoran while waiting for Jordan's next explanation. The sound of lightning roared unpretently accompanied by the blowing of the wind that blew loudly. So serious listening to Jordan's story about the events of Gedoran I did not realize that outside was raining heavily.

"Your father is great. Successfully keep all the real evidence about the event in full," again I commend him.

"Yup! as a journalist, Papa felt the need to document it. It can be said that this is a form of respect for our Grandfather, Opa Frans Winhern. Also as a form of gratitude because God still protects our family from the terrible event. At least our family didn't die like the rest of the Dutch."

"Papa was the third generation to keep written evidence and documentation of the event. Opa Jacobus, Papa's great-grandfather who first recorded the event based on his own experience when held together with Opa Frans and Opa Rueben. They get torture in the camp captive from the youth who joined the army of independence. Then Opa Jacobus' son named Opa Jansen who is also the grandfather of Papa continued the storage of the documentation and then Opa Jansen forwarded it to Papa,"

I'm stunned. So cool! The written evidence in the form of notes and photographs is obsolete eaten by age but still stored neat and clear.

"It's not just about the events of Gedoran, Bang. But all the archives and documentation about the journey of our extended family life starting from the life of the ancestors are also still stored neatly" Jordan said proudly.

"Gee, your father is really a great archivist!"

"Yup! later Papa will pass on the archival evidence and all this documentation to me, Josephine or Dave, my cousin.

The rain was getting heavier and I was getting washed away with Jordan's story and documentation. Of course, by staying under the pretext of wanting to help my cousin who wants to make a thesis about the historical events in the city of Depok.

"May I copy these journals?" tanyaku.

"Of course, Bang. Papa never minded sharing this journal and the documentation he kept with anyone in need."

The arrival of a group of people who claimed to be young lascars was very surprising. The door sounded louder. Those of us who were enjoying dinner were shocked. Papa tells Samin to go outside to see who's coming. It was so unethical, visiting while we were enjoying dinner. While from outside the window, the voices of increasingly clear screams were heard. There were screams of fear and also of hardship. I don't know who that is? the sound was heard from the side and also in front of our house. Neighbors on the side and front of our house. What if the person who banged on our house was the one who had made a noise in the house next door.

We were surprised when we saw Samin fall down. Some of the natives pushed Samin and pointed the bedil at us. Not only that, they also kicked and smashed some furniture and displays in our home.

Who are they and what do they want? what will they do in our house?

"Bah, who are you? what do you want?" Papa cursed them with a shout. Papa's face paled. We all fell silent. Fear began to spread through our bodies.

"Good night, Dutch dogs. Sorry to disturb your comfort of dinner. And plaque!!!! a piece of wood was smashed into Papa's forehead. Leaving a torn wound full of blood. With a cruel look, they dragged Papa* onto the front porch. A bedil was swung onto Papa's body as well as onto my body and Jacobs. They don't say much. I still remember their cold, cruel gazes. We are unable to fight. Their numbers are too many. Five, six, eight or ten? I don't remember exactly. The pounding of bedil made my ribs feel very painful. Fear continues to plague us. I looked back. One of them also dragged Mama and Magda. Don't know what they're gonna do to us? While continuously beating our bodies, they pushed us outside the house

"Please say goodbye, Dutch dogs.....Say hello as a sign of final farewell to this country. This country is free...."

"Decide!!!! say them simultaneously. Free or die!!!! let's finish off these Dutch dogs!!!" exclaim them while continuing to push our bodies. It makes us helpless. We don't know what else to do. To whom should we ask for help? while the atmosphere outside is no less gripping. Some foreigners we didn't know were out of nowhere dragging and beating Dutch people like us. Not only Dutch but also Dutch Depoks, descendants of the slaves Cornelis Chastelein.

Their numbers are so many, making us rethink to fight. Plus they carry weapons. I fear. So scared. We continued to walk under their command. Where are they taking us? only the raucous cries and sobs of the women and children broke the silence of the night.

Seriate.