Chapter 1: The Quiet Strength
In a village called Kampung Cikaret1, nestled at the foot of Mount Halimun2, the dawn was approaching. The cold pierced through to the bone, but in the dim light, a young boy named Jaka Someh was already busy chopping firewood. Despite his youth, around 13 or 14 years old, Jaka Someh’s body was muscular and strong—a result of his daily labor.
Jaka Someh was an orphan. His mother had passed away when he was around 10 due to a chronic illness, and his father had died tragically when Jaka Someh was only seven, attacked by Juragan3 Permana’s thugs. Juragan Permana, a loan shark from the neighboring village of Rawa Balong, often felt disturbed by the sermons given by Jaka Someh’s father, Pak4 Sabarudin, a respected and generous ustaz5 in the community.
One day, after giving a sermon, Pak Sabarudin was ambushed by Juragan Permana’s men, displeased with his teachings. In the darkness, young Jaka Someh could only watch and weep as his father lay lifeless, martyred for his principles. The sight left a deep sadness and anger in his heart.
After her husband’s death, Jaka Someh’s mother grew ill, and three years later, she too passed away, leaving Jaka Someh alone. Yet her teachings remained imprinted on his mind: "Be careful with your words, don't offend others. Uphold manners, patience, humility, and always be willing to help others." These lessons shaped Jaka Someh’s character.
Now, at age 13, he lived alone in the small bamboo hut his parents had left him. The hut was modest, made of worn bamboo walls with a small cot and a clay fireplace. Under the dim light of an oil lamp, Jaka Someh worked steadily, chopping dry wood into small pieces for firewood. His muscular frame glistened with sweat, evidence of his unyielding dedication to his work.
Jaka Someh was diligent and despised laziness, determined not to waste any moment. As long as he was healthy, he would always work, not just for himself but for anyone who needed help. His heart found peace in seeing others freed from hardship, even if his efforts went unappreciated.
His mind drifted to one of his father’s many teachings:
"Jaka Someh, my handsome son... Never fear hard work. As long as what you’re doing is good and helpful, do it wholeheartedly and sincerely. Don’t expect praise from others. What matters is that God approves of your actions," his father had told him one day.
Jaka remembered asking him, "Father, what if we work hard but don’t achieve what we hoped for? Does that mean our efforts were wasted?"
His father had smiled and hugged him, replying, "My son, nothing is wasted in good deeds. Every bit of work you do, no matter how small, has meaning and benefit, God willing. Do it with patience, persistence, and prayer. Even exhaustion is a gift from God, for it brings restful sleep and makes food taste better. One good deed leads to another, bringing blessings and happiness."
Jaka Someh always held onto these words, though he sometimes wondered if he truly understood them.
On the same day, his mother, who was ironing clothes with a charcoal iron6, also gave him some advice, gesturing at the tall pile of clothes waiting to be ironed.
"Look, my dear. At first, the pile of clothes doesn’t seem to shrink as I iron them one by one. But if I keep at it with patience, eventually, they’ll all be done, won’t they? This shows the importance of perseverance and thoroughness. When you work, don’t do it halfway. Do it with patience until you reach the goal," his mother advised.
The crowing of roosters brought Jaka Someh back from his reverie as dawn broke in the eastern sky. He gathered the firewood he had just chopped and brought it into his hut, then prepared to light a fire to boil water.
As the water boiled, he made his way to the Cikaniki River nearby. The gentle murmur of water was soothing, and the fresh air invigorated him. He bathed and performed ablutions in the clear, unpolluted river, which was so pristine that he could see fish darting back and forth. Watching the fish was one of his simple pleasures, bringing a quiet joy to his heart.
The river was everything to Jaka Someh. He bathed, drank, and washed his clothes and dishes there, while ensuring the river remained pure by choosing to relieve himself in the forest, far from the water. Though toilets didn’t exist at that time, Jaka Someh respected the environment and sought to preserve the river’s cleanliness.
Dressed in his well-worn pangsi7 clothing, Jaka Someh prayed alone in his hut. The distance to the nearest mosque meant he often prayed by himself, holding onto the religious teachings his father had instilled in him from a young age. Alongside his faith, he had also been taught self-reliance and farming skills.
To be continue: Chapter 2
Footnotes
Kampung: The Indonesian term for “village.” ↩
Mount Halimun: A mountain located on the island of Java, Indonesia, part of the Halimun-Salak National Park known for its dense rainforest and cultural heritage. ↩
Juragan: An honorific title in Indonesian culture, often used for someone wealthy or influential, such as a landlord or boss. ↩
Pak: A respectful form of address in Indonesia for adult men, similar to "Mister" or "Sir." ↩
Ustaz: An honorific title for a teacher or religious leader in Islamic culture, particularly in Indonesia and Malaysia. ↩
Charcoal iron: A traditional iron heated by charcoal, commonly used in rural areas in Southeast Asia in the past. ↩
Pangsi: A traditional Indonesian garment, particularly from West Java, typically a simple, loose outfit made of cotton or linen. ↩
