Demonstrant 1

 In a small village on the slopes of Mount Slamet, Arif sits on the veranda of his wooden house, gazing out at the expanse of yellowing rice fields. The tranquil afternoon is accompanied only by the sound of crickets and the trickling of water from a small ditch beside the house. Since deciding to leave the city and settle in this village, his life has been far removed from the hustle and bustle that was once so integral to his daily life. Now, he spends most of his time teaching village children at a simple school he founded with several local residents.

However, despite having long since left the world of student activism, Arif continues to follow socio-political developments. He no longer reads print newspapers as he once did. Now, his phone is constantly lit with notifications from online news portals, discussions in Telegram groups, and YouTube channels discussing current political events. The world has changed, but social inequality and injustice remain as persistent as ever.

That afternoon, his daughter, Nadya, called from Malang. "Did you see the news today, Dad?" she asked excitedly. Nadya was a second-semester student at Malang State University, majoring in Indonesian Language Education. Like her father in his youth, she was also critical of social conditions. 

"What happened?" Arif asked, sipping his hot tea.

"The student demonstrations in Jakarta are getting bigger. They say there will be simultaneous demonstrations in several cities, including Malang." 

Arif paused for a moment, recalling the years when he himself stood at the forefront of demonstrations. He knew how student struggle could bring about change, but he also knew the risks that came with it.

 "What about you, Nadya? Will you join us in taking to the streets?" he asked cautiously.

Nadya sighed. “I’m still confused, Dad. Some of my friends on campus were active in movements, but activism is different now. We use social media, create online campaigns, and information spreads faster. It doesn’t always have to be on the streets, but still… it feels like there’s a calling to join the fight.” 

Arif smiled faintly. “Times may change, the methods of struggle may differ, but the goal is always the same: fighting injustice.”

They chatted for a long time, discussing student movements past and present. Nadya heard stories from her father about the 1998 Reformation, how students fought for change. Despite the distance between them, the conversation served as a bridge between two generations who shared a common passion: the fight for justice. 

As afternoon turned to night, Arif gazed at the starry sky above his village. He felt both pride and worry. History always repeats itself, and now it was Nadya's turn to face her own time.

In 1996, Arif set foot in Malang for the first time. The air was cooler than his hometown in the lowlands. He carried only a backpack—containing three sets of clothes and a few books—and one hope: to pursue higher education at the Malang Language and Literature College. The small campus was located in a corner of the city, far from the hustle and bustle, but boasted a vibrant academic environment.

His early days on campus were spent getting to know his new surroundings. He began to find his favorite places: a small coffee shop near his boarding house, the quiet campus library, and the student cafeteria always bustling with discussion. Although he didn't know many people yet, Arif quickly realized one thing: on campus, there were many voices questioning the state of the nation. His introduction to the world of activism began with a senior named Zikrul. One afternoon, while Arif was engrossed in a book in the campus garden, Zikrul came over and glanced at the title of the book he was reading: This Earth of Mankind by Pramoedya Ananta Toer.

“Do you like Pram?” Zikrul asked. Arif looked up. “Just started reading, bro.” Zikrul smiled. “If you like Pram, you must be interested in the student movement. There’s a discussion tonight at the secretariat. Come if you want.” 

Arif didn’t answer immediately, but the invitation piqued his curiosity. That night, he finally arrived at the student organization secretariat, a cramped room with shelves full of books and walls covered with movement posters. 

The discussion that night focused on Indonesia’s faltering economy. Senior students talked about how government policies were widening the gap. Some discussed corruption, others criticized the education system, and still others highlighted the issue of freedom of expression. 

Arif listened intently. He wasn’t a public speaker, but that night he felt he had found what he had been looking for: a space to understand and question his situation. In the following days, he attended the discussions more frequently. He began reading books by great thinkers: Sukarno, Hatta, Agus Salim, and Soe Hok Gie. He also began to realize that being a student wasn't just about classes and grades, but also about understanding social responsibility. 

One day, Zikrul offered him something.

"Tomorrow there's a small demonstration in front of the rectorate building. We're demanding transparency in campus budgets. Are you joining?" Arif paused for a moment. He knew this was the first step toward something bigger. He took a deep breath, then nodded. "I'm joining." The demonstration was small, just a few dozen students carrying banners and giving speeches. However, for Arif, this was the beginning of a long journey in activism. Little did he know that in a few years, his name would be recorded in history as part of a student movement that shook the nation.

---

In 1997, Indonesia was on the brink of economic collapse. Prices of basic necessities skyrocketed, mass layoffs were widespread, and trust in the government was eroding. Students in various cities began to mobilize, including in Malang. In front of the Malang Regional People's Representative Council (DPRD) building, hundreds of students gathered, carrying large banners that read "Down with Suharto! Reform or Die!" The sound of speeches echoed through the air, voicing their dissatisfaction with the increasingly repressive government. Arif and Zikrul stood in the crowd, their university jackets soaked with sweat.

"We can't just stay silent! If we stay silent, we're part of the problem!" Zikrul shouted loudly, his voice bouncing off the walls of the council building. The crowd clapped and chanted slogans of defiance. Some students read out their demands: lower the prices of basic necessities, eradicate corruption, and, most importantly, oust Suharto. 

The demonstration in Malang lasted a full week. Each day, the number of students attending grew. Lecturers began to intervene, some supporting the protests, others trying to calm them down. On the fifth day, police began to maintain tighter security. A water cannon was parked not far from the protest site, while heavily armed officers watched from a distance. Tensions rose, but the students remained undeterred.

"Fight! Don't be afraid!" shouted one of the orators. 

On the seventh day, a consolidation meeting was held in a student rental. "We must go to Jakarta. This is not just a struggle for Malang students, but a struggle for all the people," said Bagas, a law student who was one of the protest coordinators. 

Finally, the decision was made. Dozens of students from Malang would depart for Jakarta, joining thousands of others in a larger protest. The day before their departure, they gathered what they could: a few sets of clothes, books on the struggle, and an unwavering spirit. The journey began. In a train carriage full of students, they headed for Jakarta, carrying the flame of reform from Malang to the heart of power.