Burying His Heartbreak: Indonesian Gravedigger Rests Dozens Of Covid-19 Victims Every Day, SE Asia News & Top Stories



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JAKARTA – Indonesian gravedigger Adang Saputra is heartbroken every time he hears the all-too-familiar prayers for the dead and the cries of anguished family members as the coffin of a Covid-19 victim is laid on the ground.

The 40-year-old hides his grief as he piles up wet red soil on the grave, plants a wooden headstone with the deceased’s name carefully written in marker on the ground, and offers a silent prayer.

Then, almost mechanically, he wanders to an ambulance waiting for him to help unload the next body for burial.

As a gravedigger at the Pondok Ranggon Public Cemetery in East Jakarta, one of two designated for Covid-19 victims in the Indonesian capital, Adang has had to face the grim scene over and over again, sometimes more than 30. times a day, for the past six months.

“At first, I was scared. I was scared of getting infected as I didn’t know anything about Covid-19. I was worried, excited, and there were many bodies to bury,” he told The Straits Times from the cemetery, where some 3,000 graves are found. .

“But I try to do my job calmly. I don’t want to think about it too much and stress.”

While he has secured a 1.5 million rupee (S $ 139) bonus in addition to his 4.2 million rupee monthly salary since March, his life has changed.

Now he rises at dawn to go to work, alternating shifts between two dozen cemetery workers to bury the dead until 10 p.m.

With the bodies arriving at unpredictable times, sometimes two or three at a time, she no longer goes home for lunch, instead gobbling up packets of rice with meat and vegetables and drinking coffee between funerals.


Gravediggers at the Pondok Ranggon Public Cemetery in East Jakarta. ST PHOTO: LINDA YULISMAN

Gravediggers like Adang are the unsung heroes who work tirelessly behind the scenes as the pandemic continues to kill hundreds of thousands of people around the world.

In Indonesia, the death toll has exceeded 10,000, the highest in Southeast Asia, with more than 260,000 registered infections.

There were 1,661 official deaths in Jakarta as of Friday (September 25), but many believe the actual number is higher.

In the world’s most populous Muslim country of 270 million people, funeral tradition dictates that bodies are washed from head to toe and a congregational prayer service is held prior to burial.

But with deaths from Covid-19, bodies and coffins are wrapped in plastic and buried within 24 hours to minimize any risk of transmission. Families are prohibited from approaching the coffins, although they are allowed to gather around the tomb after burial.

As they huddle in the distance, their pain, often mixed with shock, is unmistakable.

“Oh Allah I am so sad, my nephew is now an orphan,” a relative was heard lamenting earlier this month. Another said the man who died was fit enough to participate in a conference call the night before.


A body is laid in a grave as gravediggers look on at the Pondok Ranggon Public Cemetery in East Jakarta. ST PHOTO: WAHYUDI SOERIAATMADJA

The uncertainty and fear surrounding Covid-19 have sparked anxiety, and those on the front lines, such as healthcare workers and gravediggers like Adang, have not been spared social stigma and discrimination.

The witnesses, however, attest to the care taken. Faisal Latif Ahmad, a 27-year-old firefighter who lives just 300 meters from the Pondok Ranggon Cemetery, said the bodies are carefully wrapped in plastic before being buried.

He said, “We shouldn’t be afraid as long as we wear a mask and keep our distance.”

Still, what others think matters little to Adang, whose main concern is keeping his wife and adult son safe.

At the end of a work day, she takes off her clothes and enters her house through a side door closer to the bathroom so she can take a quick shower before seeing them.

You are careful to keep your loved ones at a distance. He said he has slept apart from his wife since March.

“Sometimes when I bury Covid-19 victims, I can’t imagine what would happen if the same thing happened to my family,” he said.

A strong sense of duty to treat the dead with dignity is why he continues to do his job, even if it means donning protective suits and masks, come rain or shine.

Adang believes that there is a special place in heaven for the lives claimed by the deadly virus.

“I know it is difficult, but I hope that families can let their loved ones go with a sincere heart,” he said.

“I hope that the deceased are accepted by God and die as martyrs.

“God willing, they will be martyrs,” he added.



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