The Fifth Season (29 page)

Abdul Muis continued to harangue the now devoted gathering, recognizing that as he spoke, foreign journalists were busy setting up lighting for their cameramen. He watched with pleasure as daylight arrived, revealing the swelling numbers of foreign journalists and, tired as he was, Muis smiled benevolently as his picture was captured for readers and audiences around the world.

He remained throughout the morning, strolling amongst the students offering them words of support and encouragement, posing whenever the opportunity arose, and speaking directly to those foreign journalists who wished to interview the man whose name, just days before, had been absolutely unknown to the Western media. Before mid-morning hundreds of thousands of words had been filed with editorial staff around the globe, and Abdul Muis's powerful Moslem party was reported in depth.

Amongst these would be Mary Jo Hunter's brilliant story on Haji Abdul Muis and the rise of militancy within his ranks. She would write of the growing evidence of Islamic extremists' influence over the powerful Moslem following, and highlighted the dangers of militant fundamentalism without realizing just how prophetic her words might be. For, in the years that followed, the
Mufti Muharam
would strike terror in the hearts of Christians throughout the Indonesian archipelago, and result in one of the greatest exoduses ever to be recorded in modern history.

* * * *

Due to the civil unrest
Oom Setio
had instructed members of his household to remain within the condominium, preferably inside their own apartment. Lily knew from their conversations that her uncle was alarmed at the increased levels of racial violence. Her uncle had little choice but to remain in Jakarta. The Chinese broker believed that his absence would only act as a catalyst for others to destroy what he had taken years to build.

Satellite news only reinforced what they already suspected. The airports were impossibly inundated with fleeing residents, tourists, businessmen and even embassy staff. What chance would they have, even if they weren't too frightened to make a dash for the airport?

Lily sat beside her cousin, Layla, watching the CNN broadcasts. She turned to the national station, TVRI, the presenters carrying on as usual, unable to report the country's deteriorating situation due to strict censorship imposed by the Suhapto regime. Lily then switched over to the President's son's private channel, but this was the same. It was as if they were living in two separate worlds.

She slipped off the sofa and wandered into the kitchen where her aunt was busily preparing their midday meal.

‘Are you ready to eat?'
her doting aunt asked. It seemed that whenever a crisis arose, she would disappear into the kitchen and commence cooking.

Lily knew that this generation believed that stuffing oneself with food often assisted to place one's problems in the correct perspective.

‘No, not yet,'
she replied, wondering why their servants had not appeared for work that day. Lily strolled back out to the lounge, observed Layla now watching cartoons, and made her way outside where she leant against the balcony railing. She peered down wistfully at the swimming pool twelve floors below. Despite her pleas she had not been permitted down to that level alone and thought her uncle a little extreme. Lily had never felt uneasy within the complex grounds. The well-paid security guards always smiled whenever she visited the pool for her daily workout, and not once had she experienced any animosity from the well-paid, blue-uniformed men who patrolled the huge building. Below Lily could just make out a number of foreigners swimming and felt resentful that she would miss another opportunity to train.

Across the city she could see evidence of the ongoing violence as clouds of smoke threatened to blanket the capital's skyline. She had watched with mounting concern when students had taken control over the Houses of Parliament and the Moslem leader Abdul Muis had addressed the huge rally in the most inflammatory way, accusing Chinese of being jointly responsible, with the President, for the country's economic collapse. It was then that her uncle had insisted that the three women remain inside where they would be safe. Although this building was predominantly Chinese occupied,
Oom
Setio
had comforted them, denying that residential properties such as theirs had already come under attack. The billowing dark clouds evident from their windows were, he had assured them, from offices and shopping centers which had been identified by looters as belonging to the First Family.

Lily watched the small figures below as they swam around the setting where, one week before, she had spent the entire afternoon in the pool with Hani. The memory of her friend's sudden, vehement attack still saddened her. She wondered if she would ever be able to face Hani after what had taken place, accepting now that nothing would ever be the same again.

She expected that
Oom Setio
would stay to protect his interests but was unsure whether this would involve her remaining in Jakarta with her uncle as nothing had been discussed, at least not with her. Events had overtaken her family with such speed, she was confused as to what the future might hold.

A loud banging caught her attention and Lily turned to see her cousin Layla running for the door. Immediately she was gripped by fear, knowing that her uncle always called to alert his family from the underground car-park, before catching the lift.

‘Wait!'
she yelled to the younger girl, leaping inside to prevent her from opening the door.
Oom Setio
had been adamant. They were not to open the door to anyone during his absence.

‘Who..?'
the twelve year old started to ask, having already released the security lock and opened the door. She was not tall enough to peek through the spy-hole. As she did so the door crashed inwards under the weight of intruders, smashing Layla to the floor.

‘Ibu!'
she screamed, her mother already running to see what was happening.
‘Ibu!'
Layla screamed again, staring up at the young men who had invaded their apartment.

‘Shut up!'
one hissed. Lily was certain she recognized the face.
Was he
one of the building's security guards?

‘What do you want?'
her terrified aunt cried, bending down to protect her child.

‘I said, shut up!'
the first man yelled, then stepped forward and struck her fiercely with his fists knocking Layla's mother unconscious to the ground. Lily's first reaction was that they were after money. They would know that
Oom Setio
had gone out. She suspected that they would steal, then run, knowing that it would be most unlikely anyone would take chase once they had fled the building. Her mind raced.
What could she offer them
so they would go, and leave them alone?

‘You!'
another man barked, pointing at Lily. Her stomach filled with fear. He brandished a long, home-made carving knife, and advanced threateningly towards where she stood.

‘Lie down!'
he ordered, but Lily's mind locked, overcome with terror.
‘I
said, lie down, you filthy Chinese whore!'
the man screamed, lifting his knee suddenly, striking her savagely in the thigh. The excruciating pain ripped through her body, the shock so severe, her cry choked in her throat as she fell to the floor.

‘Get this one first!'
she heard someone say. As she lay there writhing, Lily could still see her cousin. Two of the men dragged her a few steps, then closed the apartment's front door behind.

‘Please! Please don't hurt her!'
she heard herself cry, Layla was now aware of what was happening, but too terrified to scream.
‘Please!'
she sobbed, again,
‘we have money. Please stop!'
she begged,
‘I will find the money for
you!'

‘Grab her arms,'
the first man ordered, another then bending down onto his knees to hold Layla's tiny, outstretched limbs.

‘No! Please!'
Lily cried out loudly,
‘don't do this to her!'
then felt the stinging pain as a third thug reached down and hit her with his rough open hand.

‘Ibu! Ibu!'
Layla cried out, but her mother was unable to assist, her unconscious body lying crumpled on the floor.
‘Lily! Lily!'
she pleaded,

‘please Lily, help me!'
The first man ripped her panties away, freeing these from her legs as he groped impatiently to release his own clothing.

‘No! Don't! Please don't!'
she whimpered, her choking sobs suddenly cut off in midair, a look of startled disbelief crossing her face as her attacker lunged brutally forward and entered her.

‘I…b..u..!'
the twelve year old screamed, then screamed again while Lily lay stunned, witnessing the savage rape. She closed her eyes, her feeble attempts to block out the horrific scene unsuccessful as the man grunted loudly, his excitement rising as he continued his abuse. Then suddenly a shrill cry pierced the air as the attacker cried out, leaving no doubt in his victims' minds what this was really all about.

‘Allahu Akbar!'
he screamed,
‘Allahu Akbar!'
the Moslem chant sending another chill through Lily's heart.

Spent, the man jumped to his feet laughing, and nodded to the other who had held his prey's arms, to follow. One by one, the others gleefully took their turn raping Layla as Lily watched helplessly, noting that all shouted the same terrifying words as they climaxed. When they had finished her cousin's bloodied body lay twisted like some broken, discarded doll, Layla's glazed eyes wide open, her face frozen in an expression of continuing shock. Lily looked across to where her aunt had fallen, observing that she had regained consciousness, and now sat on the cold marble floor. Dazed, she turned and saw her daughter lying silently within reach, and bent forward to take Layla in her arms.

‘Kill her!'
Lily heard one of their attackers hiss from the other side of the sofa, and she tried to cry out but she choked on her fear. She heard steps then a cracking sound, followed by a sickening thud as her aunt's head smashed against the marble, killing her instantly.

‘And her!'
the voice ordered. Lily gasped, her body trembling uncontrollably as she felt the warm flow break loose and run down her legs, knowing that death was imminent.

‘Wait, you fool!'
their leader yelled,
‘get the jewelry first!'
She felt strong hands grip her shoulders roughly, followed by tearing sounds as clothing was ripped from her body.

‘Where is the money and gold?'
the pack's leader demanded. Lily remained standing, naked, shaking, her hands crossed to cover her shame.

‘In.. the.. bedroom,'
she sobbed, her answer earning her a savage blow across her face. She lifted her hands instinctively and one of the men laughed, making a lewd gesture which Lily clearly understood.

‘Show us!'
the man snapped, grabbing her wrist and twisting it cruelly. Lily cried out, but her whimpers only attracted more laughter. She led the men into her uncle's bedroom where they set about searching for whatever
Oom
Setio
had hidden there. They found her aunt's jewelry and discovered several thousand American dollars in one of the bedside drawers. Satisfied there was nothing else secreted away, undiscovered, they divided their spoils, Lily watching while silently praying that they would leave without killing her as they had the others. One of the men left, grumbling that he had expected more. Another cast her a glance, sending a chill through her spine.

‘What about her?'
he asked, nodding in her direction. She could see that the other man was considering her presence. When he smirked at his friend, her heart went dreadfully cold.

‘I'm ready,'
he said, placing his booty on the floor beside the bed.
‘Get
over here!'
he snarled, but Lily's legs were locked in fear.

‘No, please!'
she begged, choking back the bile in her throat, watching the men advance. One took her by the arm and led her to her uncle's double bed. She did not resist; she knew that would only make it worse.

Naked, she was pulled down roughly by her assailants, their hands moving excitedly, forcing her legs wide. Lily cried out, the shock causing her to bite her lip as one of the men mounted her quickly, then, mercifully, she was struck, brutally, and fainted, remaining unconscious throughout both attacks.

When Lily awoke she screamed at the concerned figures standing over her, the unfamiliar faces of neighboring Chinese tenants gathered around where she lay naked, stunned at the callousness of her attackers. That she had been left alive, in itself, was a miracle. She was bundled along the hallway by a number of women, and taken into their apartment where she remained until her Uncle Setio returned home and learned of the deaths of his wife and youngest daughter.

In the course of that one day, one hundred and sixty-eight women of Chinese descent were raped in Indonesia, twenty with such brutality the victims died. Of the total number, one hundred and fifty two cases occurred in the capital, Jakarta. Reports continued to flow into police posts as the ethnic violence targeting young Chinese girls went unpunished, many still in their early teens; some dragged off buses and attacked in broad daylight, and in full view of others. Many attacks went unrecorded, the victims either too frightened or fearful of the disgrace their community would undoubtedly cast upon them. With the exception of a few, their reports all contained one thing in common; the attacks had been carried out by men who made no attempt to disguise that they were Moslems.

Lily's cousin and aunt were cremated, and during those few days of preparation her uncle spoke not once, his silence accusatory as were his grief-stricken eyes. She had survived and would now carry some of the blame. That week, Lily left what was once her city of dreams forever.