Coffee with M.

It was her daughter, B., who approached me last week spontaneously through Facebook. B. wrote to me that her parents had lived in Jakarta for ten years, precisely during the period when I was (born and) adopted. “They know a lot about the adoptions in that time. They also have saved a lot of correspondence from back then.” If I wanted, I could contact them. Today I met M., B.’s mother. I won’t mention their full names, because this turns out to be still a sensitive matter to them. “Please just describe us as…

Read More

Closer to the truth

It is a true blessing that Mujihah is still alive. That she was willing to tell the story of her sister, my mother Marwiyah, to Teguh. Without aunt Mujihah I would never had known the truth. Partly it was true what Teguh had learned during his previous visit to Magelang. I was, indeed, born from an affair with a man who played no part in my mother’s life after she got pregnant. But the rest of the story didn’t add up. The version as had been told to Teguh by…

Read More