*From Bandung to Paris: Why I Survive at The Burned City*

 

Riot in Paris (Antara, Foto)

Minutes after the mayor left Braga Street — one of the most iconic areas of Bandung — the crowd was gathering to consolidate. But the police thought they would cause destruction. So, the police fired tear gas that, seconds later, hit the protesters brutally.

Instead, the crowd fought back. Many of them ran away in panic, screaming, crying out loud while trying to save their lives. Anger was through the roof. The silent night turned to chaos in hours.

I was watching from a narrow alley with my camera rolling. It was the most terrible experience I have ever seen, and I will never forget it.

At 2 a.m., I heard the sound of sirens from ambulances nonstop. And the firefighters tried to control the burning buildings — stores were destroyed as well. Thick clouds of smoke and flames were everywhere.

On the way back home, I heard a live news broadcast reporting at least 200 people arrested, hundreds of injured people taken to hospitals.

I didn't get enough sleep that night. I kept wondering why the riots could happen, and even more — why simultaneously in almost all the big cities in Indonesia, such as Jakarta, Bandung, Yogyakarta and Makassar? What really happened? What were their intentions? And why was Greenpeace involved?

I was sitting on my bench, watching TV, sipping my coffee with cigarettes already on the table. Yes, I have passed the nightmare. And thank God, I am still alive.

Riot in Bandung (CNN Indonesia)

Now, I know. Today is the commemoration day of two years of President Prabowo and his Vice President Gibran Rakabuming Raka ruling the nation.

But most people were disappointed. Flawed policies, followed by high corruption, resulted in wrongdoers in public service. The massive forest fires in Kalimantan have had a serious impact on nature's sustainability. Instead, the government plans to replace forest diversity with palm oil for quick money and investment.

Meanwhile, our neighbours, Singapore and Malaysia, sent official protests condemning the thick haze in their skies.

People's prosperity declined, education was lacking, and purchasing power was declining. The price of fuel rose in the last few months, and people felt that basic daily needs were difficult to afford.

The President's popularity sank to 20 percent.

I was thinking, again and again. Why is it happening now in Europe as well? See what happened in France, Belgium, and Italy at the same time?

The quality of life is declining. And climate change is the real sign to stop the greedy!

If I had interviewed the mayor of Bandung earlier, the protesters would have been more careful and would not have let intruders join the demonstration that turned into riots.

The mayor said, "People's anger is okay, but looting, burning cars, or destroying private property is not."

At the end of his speech, he said, "I am standing here in front of you to keep your rights running well in a conducive way. And at the same time, I will never tolerate whoever tries to break the rules. Looting is a crime! They will reap what they sow."

*UPDATE: Oct 22 — From Braga to Paris*

As I finish this article from my bench in Bandung, my TV shows the same pictures from France.

On October 17, France saw one of its worst days of unrest in years. What started as nationwide demonstrations over high fuel prices and declining public services turned into riots. Town halls were set on fire in Limoges and Marseille, shops were ransacked in Paris, Lyon, and Bordeaux.

According to Reuters and Le Monde, nearly 1,800 people were arrested and hundreds of police officers were injured. The government has now asked local mayors to impose partial curfews from 9 p.m. to 4 a.m.

France's bond yields rose to 4.96%, the highest since 2002, because investors fear the government cannot reduce its debt while the country is burning.

I watched this from Bandung and I understood: this is not only about my city. From Kalimantan's burning forests to the haze over Singapore, from Braga Street to Paris — the quality of life is declining everywhere. And when peaceful voices are not heard, chaos fills the vacuum.

Climate change, cost of living, corruption — it is the same anger with a different accent.

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The 41st Minutes That Killed Viettel: Kyle Colonnas's Expensive Mistake

Persib Bandung defeated The Cong Viettel 1-0 on the second matchday
of Group E in the 2026/2027 AFC Champions League Two
(ACL Two) at Jalak Harupat Stadium, Bandung,
last night, October 14, 2026.

Bandung was flooded with crazy supporters at 7pm on Wednesday, October 14, 2026. They yelled and shouted nonstop since the players came down on the Jalakharupat Stadium, Soreang, Bandung, last night. Traffic was jammed, vehicles were stuck, but the hard sound of the drum band beating loudly made every heart tremble! That was the greatest match ever. 

Since the opening whistle blew, both teams went straight for the attack. They traded blows fiercely. The match was exciting. It looked balanced. But Persib kept pounding on the hearts of the Bobotoh, who were roaring in Jalak Harupat Stadium, Soreang, Bandung.

By the second minute, my heart had stopped. Peralta broke free and shot—just wide. In the seventh minute, he was there again, and again the ball refused to go in. The stadium was groaning, 27,000 people holding their breath at once.

I was sitting in front of my TV, coffee getting cold, muttering, "Come on, come on."

Until one crucial moment, Peralta, Persib's main striker, made a brilliant run. He shot the ball like an arrow, dribbling it all the way into Viettel's penalty box.

But the Viettel FC defender, seeing that dangerous move, immediately tackled him savagely and roughly to stop him, sending Peralta crashing down!

Without hesitation, the referee, who saw it with his own eyes, punished that illegal action with a penalty. Silence for one second in Jalak Harupat, then an explosion.

Peralta stepped up himself. He placed the ball, took three steps back... and executed it coldly. The opponent's net shook. Bobotoh roared hysterically. Score 1-0 for Persib.

Down 1-0, Viettel became more aggressive and fired up, crossing the line, until the referee showed a red card. Paulinho out. And Viettel had to play with only 10 men.

On the other side, Persib's captain Marc Klok also tackled hard to stop Viettel's attacks until he was shown a red card and forced out, his position replaced by Thom Haye. Both teams played with 10 men. Until the final whistle blew, the score did not change.

The defeat of Viettel happened because of one of the most expensive mistakes made by Viettel's center-back, Kyle Colonna, wearing number 2, who dropped him roughly in the 41st minute of the match.

Then in the 45th minute, Peralta executed it himself until the net of Nguyen Van Viet, Viettel's goalkeeper, shook. The score 1-0 for Persib lasted until the match ended.

Top of Group E. Six points. 

Persib Juara!

The Secret to Conquering Steep Hills in Bandung

Nagreg Lama, Bandung

Bandung is famous for two things: amazing food and amazing cycling spots.

Cyclists from all over West Java come here for the views.  

In North Bandung, you’ve got Dago, Tahura, Punclut, Tebing Keraton, Lembang, Maribaya, and Tangkuban Parahu.  In the South: Ciwidey, Soreang, Majalaya.  

Nagreg Ring Road

West: Padalarang, Cimahi, Cimindi.  

East: Ujung Berung, Cicalengka, Patung Kuda, and Nagreg.

The problem? Most of them come with brutal, steep hills. 

A lot of cyclists see a climb and immediately turn around. They’d rather ride 20km flat than 5km uphill. I get it. I used to be that guy too.

After years of getting dropped, walking, and cursing on these climbs, here are the 5 tiny secrets that actually work:

1. Don’t look at the top. Look 3 meters ahead. The moment you stare at the top of the hill, your brain quits.  

Instead, pick a spot 3 meters in front of your wheel and focus on pedaling smoothly to get there. Think of something funny. A happy mind pedals better.

2. Pace yourself. 

Start slow. The #1 rookie mistake: attacking the hill too fast. You’ll blow up in 30 seconds.  Start easy. You can always speed up later. Hills are a marathon, not a sprint.

3. Shift early. Manage your gears. 

Bike Gear

Don’t wait until your legs are dying to shift down. Anticipate as soon as the road tilts up; drop a gear. Keep your cadence smooth, not grinding.

4. Use the "Zigzag" method—switchbacking. This is the most important one.  

When it gets too steep, don’t go straight up. Ride side-to-side in a zigzag.  

Why it works: You’re making the road longer, so the gradient feels less steep. Plus, it gives your brain something to do besides suffering. You focus on steering, not pain.  

I’ve used this on Dago and Punclut for years. It works.

5. Break through the mental block.

Hills are 70% mental. Tell yourself: "Just to that tree. Now just to that sign." Believe you can do it. Your body will follow your mind.

The last two are the real game-changers: switchbacking and mindset. Master those, and you’ll never fear a steep hill again.

Good luck on every climbing journey! See you at the top 😉

Karma Begal at Flyover Kiaracondong

As you sow, so shall you reap. 

Late midnight at Flyover Kiaracondong, Bandung.

Lita Anggraini,
22 years old

Four men—sadistic robbers the city called "Begal"—were waiting under the overpass for their next victim. 

They didn’t have to wait long. At 11:30 PM, a woman rode through alone on a motorbike, wearing a full-face helmet and moving fast.

The place was dead quiet. There were no other riders, no one on the street. She was climbing the flyover when the four men watched her from the darkness.

With just a glance, a blink, and a silent signal, they agreed without speaking: This is our target. They drew their weapons.

200 meters ahead, she started down the slope. Two of them stood in the middle of the 10-meter road, 60-cm machetes in hand, shoulder to shoulder. Another waited 10 meters behind, and the last one — Warno Gamblis, the one they called the most brutal — hid 6 meters ahead. She saw them and hit the gas.

She managed to swerve past the first three, but Warno stepped out. At close range, he swung his blade, and it struck her neck. She fell instantly, blood spreading across the asphalt, while her head—still in the helmet—rolled a few meters away. Like a pack of hungry lions, they swarmed in.

Motorbike, bag, jewelry, and the wallet from her pocket. All of it took less than 10 minutes before they disappeared into the dark. 

Flyover Kiaracondong
photo:unsplash.com

In a quiet place, they counted the loot. Warno opened the wallet, took the cash, and was about to throw it away when he saw a photo inside. It was a little girl sitting on a man’s lap, and a half-body picture of a young woman.

He stared, then stared again, and cold sweat broke across his skin. On the ID card it read: Lita Anggaini. 22 years old. Born in Sragen, Central Java. He ran back to the flyover. There was police tape and a crowd and a body without a head covered with cardboard.

With his heart in his throat, Warno pushed through and hugged her. “My daughter... oh my God. You’re my daughter. Lita... It’s me. Your dad.” 

People went silent. Some cried. Before the police could speak, he held out both hands.

“These are my hands, officer.” Click. Handcuffs. 

In the police car, his voice was breaking:

“I’m tired of running. Tired of hiding. I have done it many, many times. And now... I’ve killed my own daughter.”

Lita had left Sragen after high school with one dream: to become a nurse.

Her parents couldn’t afford the tuition, so she worked as a cashier at a minimarket by day and went to nursing school by night, living in a small rented room with big hope. That night she was only going to the store.

She borrowed her boyfriend’s motorbike and helmet. Her dream didn’t end in a hospital. It ended under a flyover and by the hands of the man who was supposed to protect her. 

Reflection: 

Sometimes God works in ways we can’t understand — not to destroy us, but to wake us up. Warno spent years robbing, hurting, and running, but it took one photo to stop him.

One face that looked back at him from his own wallet. Karma isn’t always thunder. Sometimes it’s quiet. Sometimes it’s a wallet.

Sometimes it’s seeing your sin reflected in the eyes of the person you love most. And it leaves me asking:

How many times do we pass each other in the dark before we choose not to be the ones who cause the pain?