Life Inside Indonesia's Widow-Only Village

Arbain means "forty" in Arabic. The owner of the complex, Hanif Kamaluddin, says he chose that name because there are 40 houses in the compound. “No other meaning," says the 81-year-old. The Javanese word for forty—patang puluh—just doesn't have the same ring to it, he tells me.

The day of my visit to Arbain, it's pretty much dead. The security post is empty. Almost all of the houses' doors are closed. Not a lot of residents are roaming around. The only sign of life is seen from the mosque nearby where children are praying.

Tiurma Butar Butar, the main caretaker of the complex, tells me that the atmosphere is usually quiet here. Those who don’t work spend their time mostly inside their respective houses. The same goes for the children. They only come out to attend prayers at the mosque. Other than that, there’s not a lot going on.

Staying true to its name, the housing complex is a long-stretch of 40 houses in two parallel rows. Separating the two rows is a three-meter pavement. All of the houses are the same size, with ceramic floors, two bedrooms, a living room and a bathroom. Every single house looks the same, down to their gates.

Not all 40 houses are inhabited. Three have been empty since they were built, and one has just been left by a former widow. Since the housing complex is meant for widows only, married couples are not welcomed here. When a widow meets someone and remarries, she has to leave Arbain. This applies to everyone, including the children. The management of Arbain usually gives its newly remarried residents a maximum of six-month grace period and to find a new home.

The residents follow this policy strictly, since Arbain, built in 2001, is meant for widows who need it most. In Arbain, women only pay for electricity and their daily needs, but not rent. Tiur says that from its inception, Arbain has always been popular, though it can't accommodate everybody who applies. Those with poor financial situation, or with children, are prioritized. To prove that applicants are really deserving of a place here, they have to submit their husband's death certificate or a divorce paper and go through a thorough background check.

Tiur is the first woman to move into the housing complex in 2011. Being the first occupant, she has been trusted as the head of the local mosque. In that mosque, on late afternoons, she teaches the widows' children to read the Quran. Before this, she lived in a house in Kalirejo, Bangil—around two kilometers from the housing complex. After her parents passed away, she sold the house to pay for her siblings' school tuition. At the same time, she heard about Hanif Kamaluddin, a Bangil-born wealthy businessman who was planning to build a housing complex for widows in Gempeng. She applied for a house and has been living rent-free since then.

Living in Arbain isn't exactly a breeze, since there are strict rule each woman and her children have to abide by. For example, all residents have to dress modestly (read: in Muslim clothing). They also have a curfew—the gate to the complex is closed and locked at 10 sharp every night. Those who work as a factory laborers are encouraged to avoid night shifts. If something urgent comes up, they have to report to the management for access in and out of the complex, since residents are not trusted with the keys for the gate. Smoking is prohibited, so is borrowing money from a loan shark.

Rules about male visitors are even stricter. According to Dewi Yus’ah, the head of the neighborhood unit (RT), residents can have male guests in their homes, but they have to be accompanied by a neighbor. "If you don’t want the presence of other people, then you need to be out in the terrace,” said the 55-year-old.

Even though the Arbain project is essentially a gift from one person, the public facilities here are impressive. There’s a volleyball court, a mosque, and a hall that can be used as a meeting point. Those facilities are also available to people outside of Arbain.

The Arbain housing complex offers you a look into the rising number of widows in Indonesia. In the last five years, the divorce rate in the country has ballooned. Between 2009 to 2016 alone, the amount of divorce cases rose 16 percent. The Ministry of Religious Affairs was so concerned about this that it's strongly encouraging young couples to consider couples counseling.

But the Pasuruan regency where Arbain is located is not even the region with the most widows in Indonesia. That record is still held by Indramayu regency in West Java, where there were 17,000 widows recorded in June 2016. There are many factors driving the number of widows in the country, and women calling it quits when they're unhappy with the marriage is one of them. Now more women are brave enough to leave when their husbands cheat or are physically abusive. And you can see this growing independence in Arbain.

Since Arbain’s early days, things that are usually done by men are done by the widows, from doing calls to prayer (adzan) to cleaning the housing complex. But this happens less often now. Some of their children have grown up and are now responsible for doing the call to prayer even though the mosque administration is still led by a woman. “They’re all big now,” Tiur says.

Mochammad Ikhwan, the village headman of Gempeng, says that there are a lot for us to learn from the community of 130 in the Arbain housing complex. The widows have proved that they can live independently without their husbands. And most of all, they are very sympathetic to one another. When a resident falls sick or passes away, the rest will lend a helping hand—though they still refuse to dig graves. Because the women in Arbain share the same fate, the kinship among residents here is extremely strong.

They share their burden and lift each other up in a society that discriminates against widows, and that is admirable.