My mum’s maiden name is Abigail Mitaart. She was born as a Christian in Bacan Island on 30 March 1949. Bacan was an island located in North Maluku with Labuha as the capital city. She was raised in a conservative Christian family, her father - Efraim Hamisi was half Chinese half Malukunese, while her mother named Yohanna Diadon was a native born of Bacan island.
My mum weds my dad and becoming a Moslem’s then changed her first name to Chadidjah. I was born as their third child with such a long name people find it hard to memorize :p.
My Mum got evicted from her family as she wed my dad & changed her religious belief. She runaway with my dad to Ternate before settling down in Jakarta. Decades, year after year, my Mum unable to visit her parents and families. They actually forbid her to come visiting. Luckily her younger sister, who lives in Jakarta, came to visit once in a while. I remember one day, Mum, my brothers and I went to Duren Sawit as we knew that her parents was in town. I saw my Mum knocking at the bedroom door calling name “Papa…papa”. The door opens up and theres this old man staring at my Mum in anger. He suddenly push my Mum that made her fell down. Mum was crying asking for forgiveness, she was on her knee begging. And guess what, his father kick her aside and she fell into the stairs. My older brother got emotional and he tried to hit my grand father with a broom stick but somebody actually stopped him. I was shocked and about to cry as I saw my Mum got treated awfully by her own dad. Think I was five or six years old that time. We went home right away and I remember Mum didn’t say a word for the rest of the day.
Thanks God, time heals the pain. Her parents finally able to accept my Mum as she is now. Mum able to visit them in Manado occasionally. And they actually come visiting us every lebaran. On that day, I can see my Mum was so very happy surrounded by her extended family.
My Mum sacrifices a lot to be with my dad, live life through good and bad times on their marriage and raising five children by her own.
Now, as I live in Bojonegoro and miles away from my Mum, I started to doubt whether working here is a wise decision. Mum is already 62 and recovering from a broken wrist. As my two brothers are no longer at home, think someone needs to take care of her day to day and right now, I’m the oldest son at home.
Mum, I’m wishing u the best of health, the best of happiness, peaceful mind and serenity. Hope God eases your heart and bless you abundantly.
I love you long time Mum. Your son — Dheva