Misery in West Maluku Tenggara
Seven children were walking spiritedly from the row of wooden houses with roofs made from sago palm fronds. That morning, 11-year-old Henestia Bina, one of the seven children, was holding a piece of dried enbal (cassava). She was lucky enough to have the local staple food as breakfast before going to school.
The cassava invited the looks of Henestia’s friends, who could not have breakfast as the cassava stocks in their homes were depleting. Their eyes seemed to say that they want a piece of the meal but were too shy to ask.
Henestia then broke off a piece of the dried cassava and put it in her mouth to soften it and make it chewable. The meal has a hard and coarse texture and plain taste, much like dried sago.
She then offered pieces of the cassava to her friends, but did not have enough for everyone. Those who did not get a piece were neither disappointed nor angry. They just joked around, laughed together and forgot about it.
Enbal is processed from a poisonous type of cassava that is grated and then wrung to dispose of the poison. The grated cassava is then sun-dried until crisp before consumed. Enbal is a staple food for the people of southeast Maluku, including in Henestia’s village of Ngeliawan in Wuriaru Island in West Maluku Tenggara.
Just beyond the village, the sand washed by seawater stretched before them. Some of the children carried their footwear and while others had nothing protecting their feet. It was already 6:30 a.m. local time and the morning school bell would ring in one hour.
Just as they were about to quicken their pace, they were obstructed by a 20-meter outstretch of sharp corals. Despite not wearing any footwear, they just walked over the corals breezily as their feet had been used to stepping on them.
At one point, they needed to squat to get though a coral formation. After leaving the shoreline, they went through a pathway across dewy bushes and a coconut plantation. They then crossed a 6-meter-wide, shallow river.
More than one hour
Despite the arduous journey, they cheerily and politely greeted everyone they passed on their way. Nahemia Balak, the oldest of the children, gave the cue for the whole group to greet other passers-by.
“Good morning, sir!” they said in unison. The greeted man would then respond and smiled.
As they approached the shoreline again, they could see smoke blowing up from Werlumdity village. It was there that their school, the Werlumdity One-Roof Elementary School and Junior High School, was located.
Due to the winding route between their village and the school, the children must spend more than one hour each way traveling just 3 kilometers. For the uninitiated, the journey can take well over two hours each way.
Out of the seven children, only Henestia and Nahemia are junior high school students. The rest are still in elementary school.
Henestia said that she could have breakfast as there was still a supply of enbal left in her home. “There is only a little bit of enbal left at home. Mama said it was for lunch and dinner,” she said.
When they are hungry, can’t they just climb one of the coconut trees on the roadside and pick the fruits? “Papa, mama and the teachers say that we must not take those that are not ours,” said Nahemia, who usually brings a machete with him to school to protect himself and his siblings from any danger during the journey.
Locals once consumed raskin (rice for the poor) distributed by the government. However, the rice was smelly and full of lice. Moreover, the rice was last distributed three years ago.
Yason Lalin, 44, a community leader in Ngeliawan, said that enbal boosted the body’s energy. However, fluctuating rainfall resulted in decreased cassava production. Consequently, locals’ enbal stock depleted. “Almost everyone in the village doesn’t have breakfast,” Yason said.
Enbal is high in carbohydrates and, therefore, needs to be balanced with protein and fat from fish and meat. The habit of not having breakfast affects the children’s cognitive development. Their brain may not be able to absorb lessons as well without the adequate amount of energy.
Wuriaru Island was first inhabited in 1964, following the conflict in Seira Island some 14 km away. More people migrated to the island after the waters around Seira was polluted by a chemical agent for growing seaweed. The island is home to more than 500 people, most of whom are seaweed farmers.
No teachers
The children’s development in Wuriaru is obstructed not only by the lack of breakfast or the arduous journey to school, but also by the absence of teachers. The Werlumdity One-Roof Junior High School, which was established in 2012, for instance, has no teacher. The principal had disappeared to Saumlaki, the regency capital. The school has been closed numerous times.
The situation moved Bruno Balak, a Werlumdity local, to teach at the school as a volunteer. Since earlier this year, the Biology graduate from Manado State University in North Sulawesi has been teaching all the lessons for the school’s three grades. There are no books or props at the school, which now has 29 students. Bruno also has difficulties in searching for teaching materials due to the absence of a telecommunication network.
The school only has two rooms; one for ninth graders and the other is shared by the seventh and eighth graders. As Bruno teaches the seventh graders, he gives his eighth-grade students tasks to complete to keep them quiet. “If I need to move between classes, I just move my desk sideways,” he said.
The children also study at home with kerosene lamps. As a result, they often experience learning problems. Nahemia, for instance, is still unable to read well despite being a junior high school student.
The absence of televisions has increased their curiosity over any videos of President Joko “Jokowi” Widodo. They know from outsiders visiting the island that the President is close to his people and to schoolchildren.
We should not bury the dreams and the high spirit of the children in Wuriaru. They have enough capital and there is the persistence to learn, as well as honesty and good manners instilled in them from a young age.