The Second Flight of Garuda

The rainy season had begun to whisper through the trees. Drizzles in the morning, golden haze in the afternoons. Lawang smelled of wet soil, molasses, and change.

The open-air surau buzzed with low conversation — not the usual complaints or market gossip, but something different. Hope had returned to the rhythm of the village, and it sat with them now, quiet and breathing.

Rakha stood barefoot on the bamboo mat rolled out at the center. His school uniform had been neatly folded beside him, replaced with a simple batik shirt — respectful, grounded. He looked not like a boy in front of his elders, but like someone meant to stand among them.

At his side:– A worn ledger, meticulously handwritten.– Two crates of bottled Lawang Saka, labels crisp under the lantern light.– A modest lockbox, sealed but unguarded — because no one in Lawang would dare steal from themselves.

Pak Ahmad cleared his throat. His voice, always gruff, carried new weight.

"Today… we count. Not debts. But blessings."

A soft chuckle rolled through the crowd. Someone whispered aamiin. A few heads bowed — not in ritual, but gratitude.

Rakha stepped forward.

"We sold out our first café batch," he said. "380 bottles. No waste. No returns."

He paused. Then turned the page of the ledger for all to see.

"Rp1.920.000,-"(About $900 USD in 1994 terms)

A murmur rippled through the surau.

A woman in the back covered her mouth. One of the teens — the same who once joked about Rakha's tinkering — whispered, "Ya Allah… beneran ya?"

Mothers whispered. Fathers nodded. Youths beamed.

"For some in Jakarta," Rakha continued, "this is one dinner. One shirt. But for us, it means freedom — even just a little. Proof that we don't need to beg a system to include us."

He stepped beside the chalkboard. On it, written clearly:

40% – Reinvestment and materials

20% – Shared village infrastructure (solar dryer repair, roof for the collection hut)

10% – Emergency savings reserve (for illness, shortfalls, or future bumps)

30% – Profit-share among contributors: workers, gatherers, processors, deliverers

"No secrets," Rakha said. "No middlemen. No 'cuts' for sitting and watching."

Pak Halim, sitting quietly near the front, exhaled through his nose. Not a sigh — but pride in its rawest, simplest form.

Pak Ahmad, voice cracking a little, added: "We've waited years to see this kind of fairness. And a child brought it to us."

Not everyone clapped — some simply placed a hand over their heart. That was more honest. More Lawang.

From behind the curtain, Mak Uni stepped forward with a small ceramic jar — the village's traditional honor bowl, once used for dowries, now polished for this new era.

One by one, envelopes were handed out from the profit-share pool. Small, yes. But with names written by hand. And respect sealed inside.

Someone whispered: "This is how it starts…"

Rakha didn't smile.

He looked each person in the eye and said, simply, "Next month, we double."

[SYSTEM NOTICE]Local Economic Trust +18%Village Influence Expanded: New Role — Peer Mentor UnlockedMilestone Approaching: Community-Level Production Tier

In the lantern glow of the surau, Lawang wasn't just a village anymore.

It was a vision.

And Rakha — their son, their student, their spark — had lit the path.

Later That Week – The Garden School

It started under the tamarind tree behind the surau — just a few benches, a roll of butcher paper, and chalk.

But by Thursday, over a dozen village youths had shown up with notebooks, sharpened pencils, and eyes full of quiet ambition.

Some were his age. Others older. One boy, Riki, was seventeen and had never stepped past Year 3 of primary school.

"Why are you here?" Rakha asked him gently.

Riki shrugged. "Because you built something. And we all said it wouldn't work."

Rakha nodded. "Then let's build again. Together."

He didn't teach like a formal teacher.

He taught like a field engineer. Like a strategist. Like a brother.

He brought in sugarcane samples, broken radios, cut plastic bottles, and maps. They studied basic economics, marketing, simple tools, weather tracking, material sourcing, and cooperative structures.

But more than knowledge — he trained mindset.

"Don't just ask how," Rakha told them. "Ask why it failed before. Then fix that first."

He showed them his old notebook — not the polished one, but the first: smudged with sweat and oil, pages patched with glued-on scraps.

"This," he said, holding it up, "is worth more than the money we earned."

"Because it's where the mistakes live. And where we buried our excuses."

The First Apprentices

Before the week ended, Rakha created small project teams:

Team Saka: Four teens tasked with improving bottle cleaning and labeling speed.

Team Serambi: Focused on designing a small village stall in Bukittinggi market.

Team Awan: Riki's team, in charge of scouting logistics routes and finding cheaper packaging sources.

Each had a rotating leader. Each met him daily to report.

Rakha didn't micromanage. But he asked hard questions:

"Why this cost?"

"What happens if the power goes out?"

"How do we scale this for 10x output?"

"Who's your backup?"

The System tracked everything, updating behind his eyes:

[VILLAGE INITIATIVE FRAMEWORK: v1.0 ESTABLISHED]Leadership Delegation: +12%Youth Involvement Index: +18%New Trait Unlocked: Grassroots Scaling Intuition

That Friday, Rakha pulled his father aside after Maghrib prayer.

He handed over a brown envelope — modest, but full.

"For you and Mak," he said.

Pak Halim blinked. "Rakha, we don't—"

"You gave me everything," Rakha replied, gently. "This is not repayment. It's a share."

Inside the envelope:– Enough for several months' worth of household needs.– A handwritten plan for future home upgrades.– A note: "For the years I will miss, when I'm away building."

Siti Halimah found the envelope later that night, her hands trembling slightly as she folded it back up.

Not because of the money.

But because of the kind of man her boy was becoming.

As the rain fell softly outside, Rakha sat once more beneath the jackfruit tree — the village finally quiet for the night.

The System pulsed gently, warm this time. Almost proud.

[SYSTEM NOTICE]Village Cohesion Milestone Complete.Reward Unlocked: Blueprint – Modular Micro-Factory v0.8New Feature Available: Production Simulation Tool

He looked up at the stars and whispered:

"This is still small. But small doesn't mean weak."