Sekali lagi, KDRT

Belum hapus dari ingatan tentang seorang ibu yang mencabut laporannya terhadap suaminya yang gemar memukul, kembali ada berita KDRT tentang seorang ibu yang hanya karena dia ‘berani’ meminta ongkos lahiran kepada suaminya malah dihadiahi aneka variasi tinjuan dan tendangan yang mengakibatkan sang ibu melahirkan keesokan harinya dalam kondisi babak belur. Tentu saja persalinannya tetap tidak dibayar oleh ayah teladan tersebut dan tidak dilaporkan ke polisi. Duuuh!!!

Geram belum selesai ada lagi berita KDRT. Kali ini nggak jauh-jauh banget, dari rumah ibu saya sendiri. Nggak, bukan ibu saya tapi pembantunya datang untuk bekerja dengan facial art of cut lip and bruises. Dan, tentu saja pembantu ibu saya ini juga sedang hamil dan juga takut melaporkan suaminya. Oy!

Ibu yang pertama mempunyai beberapa anak yang masih kecil-kecil, dia tidak bisa meninggalkan mereka untuk bekerja sehingga aduannya ditarik kembali. Ibu kedua menyatakan tidak mau melapor karena tidak ingin anaknya lahir tanpa ayah atau dengan ayah yang berada di penjara. Sementara calon ibu yang ketiga mengatakan ingin mati daripada hidup seperti ini.

Kebetulan ketiga perempuan diatas berasal dari golongan ekonomi lemah. Tapi KDRT tidak pandang bulu. Mereka yang mengendarai mobil mewah dan menyekolahkan anak2nya di sekolah mahal ada yang merelakan dirinya menjadi tempat latihan pukulan dengan stik golf demi anak2. KDRT betul2 lintas batas.

Mengapa para ibu ini rela menggadaikan nyawa dan jiwa mereka serta mengorbankan jiwa anak-anak mereka?

Saya berusaha memahami alasan ekonomi. Memang hidup disini sekarang susah dan mereka tidak diberi kesempatan untuk maju. Pahit. Mereka perlu kesempatan dan dukungan. Tetapi untuk mempertahankan perkawinan? Supaya anaknya punya ayah? Perkawinan macam apa? Ayah macam apa? Apa yang ingin diajarkan para ibu ini kepada anak-anaknya? Bahwa kekerasan, baik mental maupun fisik itu sesuatu yang normal? “Tapi Bu, kalau lagi nggak marah dia baik sekali kok!”

Ok, tapi begitu dia marah kamu izin sakit dan begitu datang kerja dengan keadaan bibir pecah, mata bengkak, pipi lebam, dan perlu cek kandungan ke bidan. Begitukah perilaku orang baik? Bagaimana jika dia belum puas memukuli dirimu, dia sambung dengan memukuli anakmu? Kalau hanya ‘dipukuli’, kalau kamu sudah lebam-lebam dan tidak menarik sehingga dia melampiaskan hasratnya ke anak perempuanmu?

Sekali lagi, mengapa menggadaikan nyawa?

Bagaimana kalau suatu saat dia betul-betul kehilangan kendali dan meninjumu tepat di solar plexus? Atau kamu yang kehilangan kontrol sehingga pisau yang sedianya untuk mengiris bawang bersarang di dadanya? Atau justru anakmu, tak tahan melihat ibunya memohon-mohon ampun melayangkan palu ke kepala ayahnya? Terlalu ekstrem? Percayalah, hal-hal ini sudah pernah terjadi.

Artikel demi artikel menyatakan (atau kalau sering nonton Oprah), KDRT hanya bisa dihentikan oleh pelaku kalau pelakunya ikut terapi dan konseling, alternatif lainnya bila bila korban pergi dari lingkungannya. Karena apabila dari diri pelaku tidak ada kemauan untuk ikut terapi, biar dia minum segentong air pencuci kaki korban, tidak akan ada perubahan. Mungkin, tapi amat sangat tipis. Apabila dari diri korban tidak ada kesadaran bahwa dirinya berharga, maka dia akan terus teraniaya. Percuma saja mengambil si korban dari rumahnya karena kemungkinan dia kembali lagi sangat besar. Kalau belum ‘dong’ ya nggak efek.

Sementara itu bagaimana dengan jiwa anak-anak yang tumbuh dalam situasi demikian? Anak yang lahir dengan suci, direnggut dengan paksa. Jiwanya dirusak oleh darahnya sendiri yang seharusnya melindunginya dan menyayanginya. Sekali lagi, anak yang tumbuh di lingkungan KDRT berpotensi menjadi pelaku atau korban KDRT di masa depan. Kenapa? Karena dia tidak tau bagaimana mengekspresikan perasaannya selain melalui kekerasan karena hanya itulah yang dia pelajari waktu kecil. Tentu saja ini tidak berlaku untuk semua anak korban KDRT, tapi kenapa meriskirkan? Why chance it? Siklus ini tidak bisa dipatahkan kecuali ada kesadaran untuk berhenti melakukan atau diperlakukan.

Hargailah anak-anak kita. Beri mereka pendidikan dan tanamkan harga diri mereka dengan cinta dan kasih sayang. Jangan pupuk benih-benih kekerasan. Stop domestic violence!

Advertisements

Ketemu Okky

Dulu waktu SD saya pernah bertemu, tepatnya melihat mbak Okky. Waktu itu saya dan teman-teman lagi lulumpatan main di halaman dan saya ingat kami berhenti bermain untuk melihat beliau berjalan melintas halaman dan keluar pagar. Saya pikir, siapa ya kok seperti yang pernah lihat? Teman saya bilang, eh itu kan Okky yang peragawati itu. Oh iya, pantes aja kayak tau wong sering lihat di majalah ibu saya J dan mbak Okky tersenyum kepada kami, sekelompok anak SD yang sedang terpukau.

Jadi, ketika kemarin Nanik bilang mau ketemu sama beliau di Aksara, Kemang, jelas saya harus ikutan. Pertama saya kangen ama Nanik, trus Kemang (sebetulnya) dekat dari tempat saya, lalu saya masih penasaran sama ingatan saya, dan ke toko buku – it’s my candy store! Jadilah saya ngintil meski nggak sama pasukan sih, cuma sama pendekar cilik yang belum bobo siang.

Dan… she is just like I remembered. Tall, smart, charming, cultured, classy, beautiful, and infinitely elegant. At the risk of sounding like a trippy hippie, she exudes such positive aura, charm just emanates out of her. Saya terpukau. Lagi.

Kalau saja hp saya agak maju teknologinya sedikit pasti dah minta foto bareng. Ah, tak apalah.

(Nanik, makasih banget ya saya dah boleh ngintil ke Aksara. Tempatnya ternyata asoy. Kapan BC disitu?)

David and the Student Council

So, who is this David C that he asked me such question? Well, I met David at a ball, had a long chat, suddenly felt giddy – guys in tuxes usually had that effect on me – and in he goes in my not-very-long list of dodgy guys. I was wandering about in the union, partly minding my own business and partly hoping to bump into him when he sprung out of nowhere asking me to run for a seat in the Student Council. Apparently they are one seat short and now must run further election to complete it. I don’t have a clue and wasn’t interested but of course it is the Faculty of Arts & Science seat, which I happen to be a student of, so David, who happened to be a Union officer that year in charge of running elections decided that I am the perfect candidate! Oh joy. Lucky me. To further persuade me, he launched into a monologue about how there’s only one person running for the seat, thus not much of a democracy if there’s no competition, the election would be fraud, the students interest wouldn’t be served and on and on he went on this vein for some time including the bit about the cycle of life. I wasn’t really listening of course. I was just lost in his lazy eyes. So like lamb to slaughter he escorted me to the union office to make sure I do the paperwork required to run for the seat. I wonder how many students he tried to suckered into running before he met me. I’ll never know I guess.

As soon as I got back to my dorm, I badgered Hannah for help. She’s a politics student so I figure she knows about running for these things. Heck, at that time I don’t even know what manifesto means! Hannah kindly explained to me what I should do and even helped me craft my manifesto. Hey, just because I run on a whim doesn’t mean I’m going to do it without a fight. So I handed in my papers and blitz everyone I know into voting for me. I didn’t really think I would win since the other guy is affiliated with more organization than I was, his paper was more professional looking too, with neatly typed out manifesto (dang, I love this ‘m’ word, been using it 3 times already within this paragraph) compare to my hastily made, handwritten one. Election day come and went. I won. To everyone’s surprise. I had to laugh when David told me how many students voted. Not many that’s for sure. Still, I won it fair and square. The seat is mine.

Thus, I got a cubby hole on which I got invites for meetings. At first I go because David would be there, but half way through he went awol from Uni. He just sort of disappear, nobody knows where he goes. I was heartbroken but hey, I have a duty to go to the council meetings, my seat doesn’t disappear just because the guy who tricked me into it is no longer there. I still go because these weekly meetings were actually quite interesting. I’ve never been involved in something like this before so it is quite fascinating to see how a mini government works, how various officers debate points and merits about their programmes with each other and with the council members that cares, how their own political leaning would spill over into their work and their causes. Like the one time they were arguing about legalizing marijuana. It was fascinating, the pro’s looked like dope-heads and the con’s looked like conservatives. Too bad it went on and on for too long I lost interest.

Another thing I got to do was went on a march in London. It used to be that the students can go to university for free and got a grant to live. Then they cut the grant according to how much their parents makes; the richer the parents the less money they get. Then they want to cut the grant altogether and replace it with loans. Of course this doesn’t sit well with the students. So the student unions across Britain got together to march in protest of such plan. As a member of the council I had to go. So off we went early in the morning in the student bus. I think everyone was half asleep except the driver. I don’t remember where in London we held the protest, all I remember was that we walked for some length, yelling things like, “What do we want? Grants not loans. When do we want it? Now!” listen to speeches, had lunch, then went back home.

I also got to know more people, like Ellie who takes her job as Union Officer seriously (I think she was secretary) and was passionate about her causes. Funny thing about Ellie, when she’s still in the union she dressed just like a pretty political activist, she looks like she’s ready to go on a demo anytime. Then she became a third-year student, graduation and job hunting approaches and she transformed into this very clean, pretty, conservative. Then there’s Mavis who likes to poke fun at his fellow officers. Mavis is not his real name. I forgot what it was. I do remember thinking how very strange, he has a girl’s name. Until I found out that he’s called Mavis because everyone thought he looked like a British fairy cartoon character called Mavis, round with long hair. It wasn’t until he showed me a picture of Mavis the fairy that I realize, why yes… you do looked like the fairy. I have no idea how, I mean, yes he was round and he has long hair just like the fairy but he is also a tall guy with hair on his chin but somehow he really looks like the cartoon character. Amazing. Great sense of humour that Mavis. Well, you gotta be when everyone calls you a girly name.

Too bad I don’t remember their last names. Can’t exactly google for ‘Ellie + Leeds University’ or ‘Mavis + long hair’ somehow I don’t think it’ll yield any result I want. I could google David C. I suppose. But then for what? Somehow I doubt he remembered. Oh well. In any case, I am glad I got to meet him albeit briefly. Though I didn’t run for any seat in the union or the council the next year I certainly glad I had the experience. It was quite interesting. So for that I gotta thank you David, wherever you are.

A Question From David

When I was a fresher, a second-year called David Codrington asked this, “Do you just want to just follow the cycle of life? Go to school, get married, have children then die?” I remember just mumbling something incoherent for answer. At 19 and fresh at uni, my future thinking consist of whether I’m going to the Underground or just catching the latest flick next weekend (yes, I vaguely do have future planning of jobs etc, my secondary school teacher did a pretty good job about that). But now, at the grand old age of 31, I have a proper answer to that question.

Dear David, I actually did go in and join the cycle of life of going to school, to graduate school, then work. Then I found love, got married, have children and is now a full time mom to two lovely children. And so far it has served me well. I got lucky I guess. Or maybe it is just a case of preparing myself well. For example, while I love my husband very much I also know that marriage is not something you can take for granted. You need to work at it. You don’t just say “I do” and it will be happily ever after. No, it doesn’t work like that. To find happiness, you have to be willing to work on it. What do we like, dislike, what do we want out of life, out of each other? How we can compromise, what can we compromise? Sure there will be days you’d feel like packing it in, there’ll be days you feel like a princess. But as long as the two of you still share the same goals, ideas and ideals, (and he’s not abusive) it is worth fighting for.

As for career, it started out good. I’m pretty sure that if I stick at it, I’d probably be at a position that I projected myself to be. However, things don’t always go according to plan. I have kids and opted out of the rat race. I am not sure when and if I go back though I don’t close that door; never say never. But really, I have two beautiful, happy, healthy children and since so many can not have one of their own, having a child is not a right, it is a privilege. Thus, I don’t want to lose any of their milestones like being there to see their first time they can lift their head, roll about, crawl, sit, walk, etc. Besides, at work, anyone is replaceable. Some might be worse, some might be better. But my children will only have 1 mother for their entire life. Surely motherhood is a much more important job.

And about death… well, that’s about the only sure thing in life isn’t? So really, the question should be how well do you want to life your live? Is your live on earth going to be a beneficial, fruitful one? Are you going to make it better or at least die trying?

I would. I’d give it a shot. I have to.

Ok, so I may not have been married for very long nor is my children are all grown up. I don’t know what the future would be like, but I do know that there are others before me, who been through the cycle and have a pretty good life at the end of it. My parents’ marriage is still going on strong as ever. They have problems, they make mistakes, but that doesn’t stop them from living. Their offspring may not be the greatest achievers – none of us won the Olympics – but I think we turned out ok. If we keep trying to be a better person, I have good faith that my cycle could be just as good if not better.

So, to answer your question, yes, I would like to be part of that cycle. It is worth it. If you haven’t joined in, give it a shot David, you might just like it.