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It was Friday night, and lightning with its distinctive light lit up the night sky. In a village, from one of the dilapidated houses, its roof made of woven coconut leaves and on the verge of collapse, a woman's soft cries could be heard. Her name was Asih, a young mother, twenty-one years old, sitting in the corner of her room, lit by a torch. With her thin body and pale face, she tried to soothe her crying child, who was crying with hunger.
"Mom, I'm hungry," her only four-year-old child whimpered, holding his empty stomach.
Asih gently stroked his head, then reached for a glass of water. "Drink first, son. Go to sleep later. We'll find something to eat tomorrow."
The child looked at his mother with teary eyes, but eventually fell asleep on his own, his face damp with tears. Asih could only hug him tightly, trying to provide some warmth.
A few days earlier, the village head had taken Asih to the community health center for a checkup. A health worker, Mrs. Rina, patiently examined Asih frail body.
"Mrs. Asih, your condition is getting worse. You're already very thin, and your kidney disease needs immediate treatment," Mrs. Rina said with concern.
Asih smiled weakly. "I'm fine, Ma'am. It's just a common stomach ache."
Hearing Asih words, Mrs. Rina took a deep breath. "Don't take it lightly, Asih. This is kidney failure. You must take this medicine regularly every day to recover. I'll give you a month worth of medicine. Please take it as directed, okay? Otherwise, this disease will get worse."
Asih accepted the package of medicine with trembling hands. "Thank you, Ma'am. I'll try."
However, when she arrived home, the medicine lay under her bed. Every night, Asih looked at it without ever touching it. Deep down, she felt there was no hope. She preferred to let her illness slowly eat away at her body.
In one of the old bamboo houses, loud laughter and shouts could be heard. Among the gamblers, one was Mr. Andre, Asih husband, who was busy trying his luck. His money from working as a casual laborer had been spent on alcohol and betting.
"Andre! Go home, your wife is seriously ill!" a compassionate neighbor tried to persuade him.
Andre glanced at him briefly, then laughed sarcastically. "Ah, she just tired. I still want to have some fun!" Andre said lightly.
The neighbor sighed and left, disappointed. At home, Asih grew weaker. Her pain worsened, and her body began to shiver. She knew her time would not last long. In a low voice, she whispered to the neighbor who was accompanying her, "Please... take care of my child. I can't take it anymore."
The neighbor shed tears and held Asih hand tightly. "You have to be strong, Asih. For your child."
But Asih only smiled thinly. Her tears fell slowly. She didn't want to endure endless suffering. She was tired of dealing with Andre attitude and living in misery. In her resignation, she took one last deep breath. Her body weakened, and her eyes slowly closed forever.
The cries of her only child echoed through the small house. Neighbors arrived, some weeping at the sight of Asih passing. As they prepared to handle her body, they found several packets of medicine under the bed.
Everyone realized that Asih had deliberately not taken them, allowing herself to succumb to her situation. Only when the funeral gong was struck did Andre stagger home. The stench of alcohol mixed with cigarette smoke still lingered. As soon as he saw his wife's coffin, he gasped.
"Asih...?!" he screamed, falling to the ground.
No one paid any attention to him. The residents were busy preparing Asih funeral, carrying her body to its final resting place. Sobs could be heard along the street, a sign of deep sorrow for the tragic fate of a loyal wife, a mother who fought until the very end.
However, Asih death didn't make her husband realize it. He remained absorbed in his own world, drinking and gambling without any regard for his only child. Seeing Andres behavior, the villagers grew increasingly furious, especially when they saw the child he had left behind becoming increasingly neglected.
One night, the neighbors gathered at the village head's house to discuss the fate of Asih child.
"We can't let the late Asih child be neglected like this," the village head said firmly. "This child needs care and affection. I've spoken with my relatives, and they are willing to take care of him because they don't have any children of their own."
"What about his living expenses?" Santi asked.
Another neighbor spoke up, "We can take care of him together. We'll chip in for school expenses and daily meals. The important thing is that this child doesn't fall into the hands of his father. And Mr. Ahmad, as the administrator of the zakat institution, is ready to make a monthly donation for his needs." All the residents agreed.
The next day, the deceased's child, Asih, was taken to the home of the village head's relative, who was ready to care for him. He grew up with love more sincere than his father ever gave him.
Andre, who had lost everything, remained immersed in his bad habits. No one cared for him anymore. The residents only hoped that one day, he would realize the enormity of his sin before his death.
Finally, his bad habits ate away at his body, and he fell ill. He lay alone in his now dilapidated house.
Now, Andre regretted his life spent gambling and drinking. He lay ill, realizing that his bad habits had destroyed his health and damaged his relationships with his loved ones.
None of his gambling friends cared. Likewise, the residents are already experiencing great disappointment and disgust.
