We, the Tyrants

FOR some months I had developed the habit of lunching at a kiosk selling tasty bakmi pangsit (noodles with crackers), behind the building where I work. The small unassuming kiosk was run by a middle-aged family with a boy of about 3 then. As for this boy, I never got the chance to know his name, because I would call him by the name his parents used: Tole; a typical Javanese nickname a parent uses to call a beloved son.

I have lost counts of the times I ate there before coming back to my office on the seventh floor, but I remember one particular day and the very moment when, as I was waiting for the father to wait on me, I heard a boy crying upstairs, where they also lived. It was Tole's and his cries turned louder and louder. The thumps and snaps were heard several times from below.

"Ampun, bune; ampun bune…" In his pledges of contrition, he cried out Mama, I'm sorry; mama, forgive me. The beating yet continued. Seconds later the boy managed to find an escape and slipped downstairs, where I was sitting nervously. When our eyes briefly met, he reached out his hands to me for salvation. But his mother, a large woman whose weight must have doubled mine, though I'd found her to be a nice person to talk to all this time, reacted more quickly than I did. She took her brat upstairs again. The sound of the beating and cries that continued left a cut in my heart.

Such was not the first time for me to be a witness of violence or violent parents. Back to my own childhood, in our neighborhood I would witness a fair share of more or less similar treatment to children. Not from my own parents, luckily. Elements relating to violence suffered or witnessed during childhood are the most difficult things to unlearn as adults-and the most dangerous too.

To come back to Tole, then I decided to talk to his aunty, who also worked there at the food stall. I said that treatment must not continue. Since that farewell on that fateful day, I am their regular no more. I still try to throw a peep at Tole everytime I pass his parents' kiosk.

*

Today is the National Children's Day. The National Commission for Child Protection just reported that this year the number of child abuse cases rose by 48 per cent, with at least 71,000 minors suffering nationawide. Either it suggests that a better reporting system has been in place; or that there have been more abuses reported under the same reporting system, the fact remains that child abuses are rampant.

The common attitude remains that that corporal punishment is effective to instill discipline left children vulnerable. Maybe it lasts because it has served as a cultural justification with which parents can still call theirs "Tole" or "Upik" or "Nduk" despite the regular beatings they give their children.

Indonesian children remain equally abused at homes, schools and everywhere. Our culture still allows us adults to tyrannize.