Direct Talk

This is the tiny island nation of East Timor,

officially known as
the Democratic Republic of Timor-Leste.

With a population of 1.3 million,

the nation has enjoyed peace
since its independence in 2002.

However, it experienced a harsh history
during more than two decades

of severe armed struggle against
the invasion of its neighbour, Indonesia.

Many civilians suffered from gross violations
of human rights during the conflict.

Indonesian activist Galuh Wandita

has researched human rights
violations in East Timor

and worked on various projects
aiming for future reconciliation.

One of the "unfinished businesses"
she has focused on

is the issue of children "stolen"
from East Timor

by Indonesia during the occupation period.

Research indicates that thousands
were abducted and forcibly transferred.

Galuh and her NGO colleagues have searched
for those "stolen children" one by one,

and have so far found more than 190.

Her initiative has helped them
return to their homeland

and reunite with their original families
after decades of separation.

Obviously for the survivors,
both the families and the children

that were taken,

it's a really important healing process.

There's still a lot of unfinished business.

We hear the vision of Galuh,

who has been focusing on the scars
of conflict and trying to heal them.

For the "Stolen Children" of East Timor

This is the office of the NGO
"Asia Justice and Rights", or AJAR,

located in the Dili,
the East Timorese capital.

Since the NGO was established in 2012,

Galuh has worked on various
human rights issues as its director.

Even though most of those issues happened
during the era of conflict

before the nation's independence,

Galuh points out they are not
just stories of the past.

Many of the survivors are still living

and are amongst us now.

And their children are also amongst us.

There is intergenerational trauma.

So, when your parents are traumatised and

have not had the opportunity
to deal with the impact of the conflict

that also impacts in the next generation.

In 1975, East Timor declared independence

after more than 400 years
of colonial rule by Portugal.

But soon after, neighbouring Indonesia
invaded and annexed the country by force.

Chaos ensued, and gross
human rights violations occurred

during the armed struggle for independence.

It was in the 1990s, when the conflict
in East Timor was still going on,

that Galuh started engaging with the matter.

After graduating from an American university,

she was assigned to Eastern Indonesia as an
international development NGO staff member.

Then later, in 1996,

she started her human rights
protection activities based in Dili.

In 1999, Galuh witnessed
a historic moment in East Timor's history.

As the UN-sponsored referendum took place,

the security situation
in the country deteriorated.

Many "anti-independence" militia said to be
supported by the Indonesian military

were killing people and
burning houses everywhere –

adding more victims of the conflict.

That was some of the things
that you'll never forget

that experience.

Thousands of victims were detained,
tortured. Thousands still disappeared.

People were really scared.

I mean, even where I stayed, here in Dili,

sometimes people would knock on
our door and say, "This just happened."

And the only thing we could do
was write down the story.

It really

seared our hearts.

I think, for us, to then

recover from that trauma,

we also had to be here and work on this
together with our Timorese friends

As a majority chose
independence in the referendum,

East Timor finally became
an independent nation in 2002 –

the 21st Century's very first new nation.

As Galuh wanted to contribute to the
new nation through reconciliation activities,

she joined "The Commission for Reception,
Truth and Reconciliation"

which the East Timor government had set up

with the support of
the international community.

She was the only Indonesian member.

The commission she worked on
as deputy director

conducted fact-finding surveys
across the nation on human rights violations

during the conflict
which had not yet come to light.

They collected more than 8,000 testimonies,

and the survey results were compiled
into a 3,000-page report named "Chega!",

which means "Never Again!"

In the report compiling many cases
of human rights violations,

one particular issue which was not yet
widely known attracted Galuh's attention.

Stated as "the transfer of children,"

a 20-page section suggested
at least 4,000 children

were taken to Indonesia
during the occupation period.

Thousands of children were taken.
Mostly, initially by the Indonesian military.

Some of it by individual soldiers.

They were boarded up on ships – Navy ships.

Some of them (were) put in boxes.

Hidden there.

10, 20 children as the troops going back
and forth at the end of their tour of duty.

Later on, in the 80's,

there were foundations and Islamic
boarding schools that also took children.

And in 99, when there were people fleeing
from the violence around the referendum,

some children were also
taken across to Indonesia.

So, forcible child transfers,

that children were taken
without consent from their parents.

Most of them ended up living in a family
that was also economically not very strong,

ended up being put to the streets,
not allowed to go to school,

doing a lot of domestic works.

When Galuh established the NGO in 2012,

she made the "stolen children" issue
one of her top priorities to work on.

Although the Truth & Friendship Commission

between the East Timorese
and Indonesian governments

recommended finding missing people

and re-connecting them
to their families 4 years ago,

there was no progress.

But under the initiative of Galuh's NGO,

many victims have been
found across Indonesia.

One of them is Lorenzo Mamondol.

He was taken by a soldier
when he was 8 years old as his son-in-law.

I was not able to go to school after the 3rd grade
as I was abandoned.

I tried to survive to help the kitchen operation
in the military compound.

He had spent more than
4 decades in Indonesia,

without any contact with his original family
in East Timor, before AJAR found him.

My life in Indonesia has been miserable.

I really want to see my family in East Timor.

Too long time has passed.

I came here when I was 8,
but now I am already 55.

Looking for them in Indonesia
is really difficult.

Indonesia is so big,
200-something million population.

How do we find them?

So, when we,

when we find a person who says I was taken,
then we listen to their story.

And hopefully they have a sliver of memory

about where they were taken from.

So, if they remember their village

or some,

some names of their family,

our team here in Dili then

start looking for their family members.

That process is this long, back and forth.

And then when we find the families

there's already a grave for that person.

Because they are assumed,
they had died during the conflict.

The feelings of the victims
when their families are found

are not so simple to deal with

as their "reunion"
after decades of separation nears.

Galuh emphasizes the importance
of the prior workshop

to prepare them mentally
before they head for East Timor.

According to Galuh, some victims can't
even recognize that they were victims

because they were only small kids
when they were "stolen."

Sorting out each personal journey
on what really happened to them,

and sharing with each other,

helps them to recognize
their original identity as East Timorese.

I'm going home, I'm going home.

For them to have survived,
they had to pretend not to be East Timorese.

And then suddenly,
they're in a situation where

they have to comprehend that what happened
to them shouldn't have happened

and that they have family is there,
waiting for them.

It's the first time that they have understood
that what happened to them

did not only happen to them.

That it happened to
thousands of other children.

Galuh and her team's efforts
have found more than 190 victims so far,

and many of them have successfully
stepped back on the ground

of their own homeland, East Timor.

The victims finally
head back to their own villages –

and reunite with their family and relatives
after decades of separation.

Every time I participate
in a reunion, it's like

a big infusion of joy and hope and happiness.

It is like somebody returning from the dead.

And then suddenly that person is,
they're alive amongst you again.

So that's for sure something pretty amazing.

It's joyful and heavy at the same time.

You know, there is

the joy of being reunited
and feeling whole again.

But also,

the feeling of all that time lost.

In 2022, Lorenzo finally
went back to his village for reunion,

decades after he was taken away.

But the people he really wanted to see again
- his parents - died more than 10 years ago.

Until their final moments, they were
worrying about their son's whereabouts.

Papa...!!

Decades have passed since they were "stolen,"

so there is not much time left, as their
parents and family members are getting older.

With this time-limited situation,

Galuh believes their projects
must be accelerated.

By strengthening the cooperation
with an independent body

under the East Timor government,

she aims to speed-up the searching
and make victim's multiple visits possible.

Because they are

survivors,

victims of human rights violations, I think,

it's part of their rights
to repair their lives.

Reconciliation means also
that there's truth, that there's justice,

that there's reparations for victims.

And then, there is a

commitment to never repeat.

In terms of Indonesia's

kind of mainstream society and government,

there is resistance to learning
about what happened in the past.

We are about learning
the lessons from conflict

and building a more
fair and democratic future

with the next generation
based on the truth of what happened.

So, it's an ongoing struggle.

For decades, Galuh has embraced
certain words as her life motto.

"Learn to struggle without hate."

It's a message that has been
passed down from my father.

And it is a message about
always choosing love

and always choosing
to struggle means that we

can see that there's

an injustice or there's something that is
not fair, that we want to try to change,

but without hate.

We have to free ourselves
so that we're not repeating,

you know, feeling vengeful
and full of hate and revenge.

But we can

step up and

hold on to the ideals of change,
positive change,

love and joy for a better future.