I. Conquest — 18
I was eighteen
when I received the inheritance
and the obligations that came with it.
I chose History Education
and believed knowledge
could explain the world.
Never worry about the price tag.
Everybody knew I had the brain to be critical.
Books were part of my life,
from Marx to war.
Everything felt glamorous.
I thought I had conquered
the world before the world
had a chance to conquer me.
II. Death — 22
I was twenty-two
when reality checkmated me.
There was no move left,
no way to erase the title.
Grandmother passed away.
COVID-19.
Long distance, my ass.
And responsibility
attached itself to my name.
Death did not only take a person.
It took a version of me.
III. Famine — 24
I was twenty-four
when the inheritance was stolen.
Five hundred million rupiah
was supposed to become a future
for my sibling and me.
Instead, it became something taken from us.
I thought my life was broken.
The famine was not
the absence of food.
It was the absence
of what I thought
would save us.
IV. War — 27
Now I am twenty-seven,
and everything begins again
from the beginning.
Debts exceeding ninety million
do not scare me anymore.
Broken trust does.
But somewhere inside this mess,
my sister and I grew closer.
All this time,
I thought I was broke.
Perhaps I was.
But at twenty-seven,
I am as broke as Walt Disney
before the dream became an empire.
So let everything begin again.
No inheritance.
No illusion.
No borrowed glory.
Just me, my sister, my debts,
and a new responsibility:
to be responsible for my sister.
This time,
I am not rebuilding a fortune.
I am rebuilding a life.
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