またね, 2025

 Today, I’m leaving Indonesia.

I thought leaving Indonesia would make me happy. I wouldn’t have to pay my taxes and watch them get corrupted. I wouldn’t have to see the shitty oknum provoke and support the shitty elite government. I wouldn’t have to watch a civil war between the ‘rakyat.’ I thought it would be terrifying to leave this shitty country.

But no, not really. There’s a bittersweet feeling. Worry. About my family, who have no choice but to stay here and deal with the gov’s nonsense every day. About my nephew, who will grow up in a shitty nation. About my friends, who cry every time they see their tax slips (well, maybe not all of them), questioning where all the money goes compared to the facilities they get.

This feeling I have toward my country developed long ago. I thought it was hatred, since when? College? High school? I don’t even remember.

Then I saw a conversation between two politicians. When everyone asked why they stayed in Indonesia, they just laughed and said, ‘I just can’t imagine leaving Indonesia. I was born as an Indonesian.’ Wow. Isn’t that so naïve?

Today I realized, they have a point.

That feeling, it’s not really hate (not the main feeling). It’s a disappointment. Regardless, I was born an Indonesian, surrounded by people I love. I’m too damn disappointed to want to be associated with this shitty country anymore. I tried not to care, but I can’t, I born as WNI and need to accept that. Those who voluntarily stay in this country and genuinely want to build it? They’re on another level I’ll never relate to.

Leaving this country is an option, but not for everyone. Leaving doesn’t mean survive, it just means choosing another struggle to fight. I need to remember this, and be grateful that I have this option, no matter how long it lasts. Please protect each other, I wish the best for my country.

またね, インドネシア.