'My house was turned to debris': Jakarta's evicted write their story

Iwan Setiawan sits at the table where he serves his customers. Photograph: Yusni Aziz

In August 2015, hundreds of residents living in an informal community in Pulo, Jakarta, were evicted, and their houses bulldozed. The government said it was to provide better housing, and to protect them from the floods to which the kampung was prone.

The residents – mostly fishermen and small traders – were moved to social housing, roughly 12 miles away. Their new homes were in large tower blocks, in apartments that couldn't have been more different from the neighbourhood they'd known for decades.

Some months later, journalists from the social activist group Islam Bergerak, the nonprofit architecture magazine Ruang Arsitektur and the Jakarta Post held a writing workshop for the evicted residents. The idea was to give them the chance to express their feelings about the move.

Though concerned that their criticisms would cause the government or their new landlords to punish them, the residents agreed to have their stories published.

The following are excerpts.

Yusuf Supriyadi in the new housing complex. Photograph: Yusni Aziz Yusuf Supriyadi

In my old age I need peace in life. I need my happiness.

The place where I lived was identified as part of the Ciliwung River Normalisation Programme, so relocation was inevitable. But it did not seem urgent. In everyone's minds here, the relocation would bring adequate compensation and benefits.

The governor had stated that everything would be compensated with money. After that promise, none of the residents were concerned about the displacement, even when the surveyor came to measure our buildings.

The fight kept going even when officers fired tear gas

Yusuf Supriyadi

The residents were initially enthusiastic to help. Afterwards, however, meetings between the officials and the residents became increasingly intense. A committee was formed by the residents, but to no avail. The provincial government announced they would not pay anything to the citizens unless they have certificates.

I still clearly remember what happened. A crowd of people facing the Jakarta Public Order Agency, police and military, both sides ready to attack. The majority of young people were eager to defend their homes. They did not want to leave the place where they'd lived for decades without any compensation.

The atmosphere was tense. The fight between the groups kept going even when officers fired tear gas. In the end, even the innocent ones became the victims.

When it was the turn of my house , my wife could not stand it and fainted. My house was turned to debris.

It contained a lot of memories of my life, from my childhood to my old age. I had lived in that house for decades – just a normal house, like the other buildings at the river bank, yet I was so comfortable with it. Perhaps that is why it is difficult to forget.

Mr Uming in his kitchen. Photograph: Yusni Aziz Mr Uming

I used to have a coffee stall in Jatinegara street. I earned a profit of Rp150,000 (£8) a day. I used it to pay school fees, electricity and water, and other household needs. I saved some money, and in 2000 I bought a house. Little by little, I started to repair it.

On 28 August 2014, they evicted my coffee stall along with the shops in the same street. I lost my livelihood.

My wife tried to open small shop at home, and I worked odd jobs: sometimes as a porter, and also a construction worker.

But a year after that, before I was able to find a steady job, our house was demolished. With resentment and sadness, we were forced to move to flats.

Living in the flat is much harder. I no longer have a job, especially as now I am 60 years old. Most days, I just rely on the help of my children.

Iwan Setiawan and his food stall. Photograph: Yusni Aziz Iwan Setiawan

I think of life in the new towers compared to our previous life in Kampung Pulo as like taxis compared to bajaj (rickshaw). As soon as you open the taxi door, the meter starts running – but with bajaj you can always bargain.

My life in the new housing is more luxurious, like in a castle. There are facilities for children and a suggestion box near the elevator – though it's not much use.

My income has fallen sharply. In the kampung, we could trade freely. There were no rules. There are so may rules here.

Koko Wahyu and his daughter. Photograph: Yusni Aziz Koko Wahyu

In our previous life, we did not have to think about rent, water or electricity – which, of course, is now more expensive. We had a simple house, but we owned it – rather than a tall and luxurious building which we rent.

Now we are given a warning letter and are banned from trading in front of the house we live in. But the majority of Pulo's citizens are traders!

The lift has already broken several times. My child is four years old and is traumatised by the lift because he experienced and saw first hand when people were stuck in it.

Children need a place to play outdoors, like we had in the old home, where they can run free. Though there are playground facilities provided by the organiser, they are not maintained and protected.

Ade Pak looks outside of the window of his mother's bedroom Photograph: Yusni Aziz

Ade Pak

Even though our house was very simple and often flooded, we were comfortable and in peace, because we did not need to think about rent and the price of water. Because the water in this housing is obtained from the distillation process, it does not taste good and after a shower it makes my skin itchy. In Kampung Pulo I have never had problems like that.

I used to lived next door to my parents but now they live downstairs. I am concerned about them: if they have an illness or asthma relapse, I am worried no one will know. I could just live with my parents, but I am already married – and this housing is not big enough for us if we want stay together. I have asked to be moved to their floor, but the manager said I cannot, even though there is an empty unit there. The selection process is like playing the lottery.

I am a private employee and I am grateful that I am still able to work and gain some money. But whereas my salary used to be enough for daily expenses and I still had some for savings, since my family and I moved to this housing my salary is used up in rent, electricity and water. If you do not pay, you get a warning; after a third warning letter, you will be evicted. If that happens, where would we stay? Would we have to live on the street?

How long will we all have to stay in this housing and pay rent? Our whole lifetime? The contract contains a clause stating that the use of this building is only for up to 20 years, and every two years we have to sign an extension. After 20 years, would we be moved again?

Our lives are like a soccer ball, constantly kicked and passed around.

Ms Evi with the Jatinegara housing behind her. Photograph: Yusni Aziz Ms Evi

I am a mother without any income, and being supported by two sons-in-law. But sometimes I also help out the neighbours. Normally everything is covered just like that, but now it is not enough.

Everything feels a bit formal. Children do not feel at home. Due to the lack of proper facilities for children to play in Rusunawa, many children go away to play. My 12-year-old son still likes to play in Kampung Pulo, the place where he lived before. After mingling with children around the towers, it seemed like my son can no longer be disciplined. He likes to skip school.

Farah Difa at the playground area. Photograph: Yusni Aziz Farah Difa Ramadhani

I am a sixth grade student, and I usually play in the kampung, either cooking games, dolls, riding bikes around with my friends.

My house in Pulo didn't leak. The house was big and we had two floors. Even though there were a lot of rats, all our stuff could fit, and we did not have to pay for water.

Our apartment in this new housing leaks. It is small , there are a lot of beetles, not all of our stuff can fit in and we have to pay for water.

Zulfa in the kitchen where she does her homework. Photograph: Yusni Aziz Zulfa Zam Zami

I am a fourth grade student; my hobby is dancing and my dream is to become a doctor.

I have many friends and relatives in Pulo. When the excavator came, I watched my house be demolished. I saw it with my father. I hugged him because I was scared.

Why did they demolish it, what did I do wrong? I wish I could go back to Pulo.

What would make Jakarta better, and what changes are most urgently needed? Share your ideas, thoughts, stories and pictures here. You can also contribute onTwitter and Instagram using the hashtag #GuardianJakarta

Source: 'My house was turned to debris': Jakarta's evicted write their story