After our names were inscribed in the sacred genealogical book, a sense of peace enveloped me. This validation was not just recognition, but also an acceptance of responsibility. Aki Jaga nodded with satisfaction, stroking the book's cover as if sealing a new chapter.
My Father then stepped forward, holding several thick envelopes in his hands. He handed one envelope to Aki Jaga, which contained a large sum of money. "Aki Jaga," Father said in a low voice, "this is for the operation of the Talaga Manggung Museum." Father knew very well how important this museum was as a guardian of history and identity. "Hopefully, it can help maintain and care for this place."
Aki Jaga received the envelope with both hands, his eyes showing deep gratitude. "Alhamdulillah, Darmawan. This assistance means a lot to us."
Next, Father handed another envelope to the museum's representative who stood beside Aki Jaga. "This is also for the museum's operations and other basic needs," Father said.
Then, Father took out a larger envelope and handed it to Aki Jaga again. "And this, Aki," Father said, "is for our extended family still in Majalengka. Please distribute it, Aki, so that everyone can feel this blessing." Father wanted to ensure that the blessings we received also flowed to our relatives who might be in need, as a form of kinship and care.
Aki Jaga smiled with emotion, accepting the envelope with a nod. "Thank you very much, Darmawan, Marlon. This will greatly help them." After all duties were fulfilled and a brief, warm conversation, we bid farewell. "We must return to Bandung, Aki," Father said. "Thank you very much for your welcome and guidance."
Aki Jaga and the people of Talaga escorted us to the museum gate. Smiles and waves accompanied our departure. This trip to Majalengka was not just a visit, but an important marker in my life's mission. We had found our spiritual roots, fulfilled our social obligations, and affirmed our position in the Talaga Manggung lineage. With a calmer and more blessed heart, my Father and I drove back towards Bandung.
After the profound spiritual journey to Majalengka and fulfilling our obligations to our ancestors and community, my Father and I returned to Bandung. Life resumed as usual. I went back to my school routine, while Father became busy again with business matters. However, behind the curtain of normal life, the wheels of our grand plan continued to turn.
Now, with a portion of the funds from Singapore transferred to Indonesia—an amount of approximately Rp36.545 billion after deductions for zakat (Rp3.767 billion) and debt repayment (Rp14 billion), leaving Rp18.778 billion, and maintaining most of the money in Singapore—Father began to initiate investment plans in our homeland. Under the company name Sundawani, the same name as our venture capital abroad, Father began to hunt for strategic assets in West Java.
Our first focus was on livestock farming. I knew very well the great potential of this sector for food security and long-term growth in Indonesia. My Father, guided by me with my knowledge of the future, began to purchase several plots of land in strategic areas such as Ciwidey, Pangalengan, and several other regions in Bandung Regency.
The land acquisition process was not rushed. My Father, with the help of a newly recruited legal team, ensured that every transaction was transparent and legally compliant. We looked for large plots of land with good water access and suitable locations for large-scale livestock farming. In Ciwidey and Pangalengan, we targeted land with a cool climate suitable for dairy cows or sheep farming. Meanwhile, in other areas of Bandung Regency, we looked for locations for poultry or beef cattle farms.
Father explained to Grandfather that this investment was part of our asset diversification, ensuring we had a strong foothold in the domestic real sector, in addition to our global investments in technology and forex. These land purchases marked the beginning of our physical infrastructure development in Indonesia, which would form the foundation for future businesses under the Sundawani umbrella.
After returning to Bandung, we couldn't close our eyes to the realities around us. The post-Reformasi years were a tumultuous period. The atmosphere in Indonesia, especially in major cities like Bandung, was far from stable. Student demonstrations still frequently erupted, SARA (ethnic, religious, racial, and intergroup relations) issues were easily ignited, and news of the economic crisis continued to haunt every aspect of life. There was a kind of aura of desperation lingering in the air, making people want to find a way out.
Many people who were initially wealthy, entrepreneurs whose business empires were entangled in dollar debts, or even middle-class families whose savings were eroded by inflation, now saw the only way out was to leave Indonesia. They wanted to find peace and certainty in other countries. This phenomenon caused many assets, in the form of land and buildings, to be sold at very low prices, even far below their fair market value. This was a condition that in business terms is called "cutting losses," or more dramatically, I called it "cutting leak"—like a ship leaking here and there, and its passengers willing to throw away any valuable item to save themselves.
I saw this grim situation as a rare opportunity. With the funds we had specifically allocated for investments in Indonesia—approximately Rp36.545 billion—I decided to act quickly but judiciously. "Father," I said one afternoon, as we were reviewing a report on the sluggish local property market. "We must take advantage of this situation. Now is the right time to buy some land in Bandung City."
Father looked at me, his eyes showing a mix of understanding and a slight question. "You mean, taking advantage of people's misfortunes, Son?" he asked, with a hint of hesitation.
"No, Father," I explained calmly. "This isn't taking advantage of misfortune. This is about seeing opportunities in the midst of a storm, and protecting our assets. We won't bid with inhumane prices, but we will buy strategic assets that will be very valuable in the future. We are helping those who genuinely need quick funds, and we are investing for a better future."
I elaborated on my vision in detail. "I want us to buy two fairly large plots of land," I explained. "Each measuring about 30 hectares." I knew exactly where the ideal location was: Jl. Terusan Buah Batu. I knew this location, which at that time might still be relatively quiet and undeveloped, would become very strategic in the future. It would be close to a new toll road that would be built, and later it would become one of Bandung's centers of activity and economic growth.
"These lands will later be developed into creative spaces and also sport spaces once I have sufficient funds and resources," I continued, outlining my long-term vision. I imagined a place where artists could gather, innovators could create, and communities could connect. A modern complex with complete sports facilities, community centers, and beautiful green areas. This was a long-term investment that went beyond mere financial gain, investing in the human and community potential of this city.
In addition to these two giant land plots, I also asked Father to buy several houses in strategic locations in Bandung. These houses, which might be sold very cheaply by their desperate owners, could become profitable short-term property investments, or even assets that could be developed into guesthouses, upscale boarding houses, or rented out.
Father finally agreed to my plan completely. He immediately instructed his team to search for these properties. This purchasing process would be done very carefully, taking advantage of falling prices, and ensuring all legalities were guaranteed to avoid problems later on. We were building the foundation of wealth in our homeland, one by one, with a far-sighted vision, using the storm to plant the seeds of future prosperity.
To ensure all our property investments in Indonesia ran smoothly and according to legal regulations, my Father and I made an important decision. All land and building purchases we made, whether the large plots in Buah Batu or the houses in strategic locations in Bandung, would be done using the name of a new property company we established here. And as usual, its name was also Sundawani.
"Why does it have to be through a company, Dad?" I asked at the time, pretending not to know. Father patiently explained, just as I remembered from the future. "Here's why, Marlon. There's a rule in Indonesia that states foreign parties cannot directly own properties with Certificate of Ownership (SHM)." This meant that even though our money came from a trust fund in Singapore, in terms of ownership, my Father, as an Indonesian citizen, had to have full control over the company that bought these properties. This was the safest and most legal way to ensure these assets truly belonged to us and were protected by law.
So, we established PT. Sundawani Properti in Indonesia. This was not just a name, but a solid legal entity. My Father appointed some of his trusted people to manage the daily operations of this company, of course under his strategic direction and also my input. They were tasked with finding locations, negotiating with sellers, and handling all the complex legal documentation.
The process indeed required patience. The Sundawani Properti team had to ensure every land certificate and building permit was valid, to avoid future problems. They also had to be astute negotiators, given the sluggish market conditions. But this was all part of the long-term vision.
Sundawani Properti was not just a tool for acquiring assets. It was our foothold in the Indonesian property sector, a nascent entity that would eventually grow into a major developer. With the name Sundawani, we were not only investing capital, but also planting our family's identity and heritage in our homeland. This was how we ensured that the significant profits we gained in the global market would largely return and take root in Indonesia, building a strong foundation for a better future.
Besides being busy with property investments and grand plans in the technology world, I also had one investment dream that I really wanted to realize from my previous life: establishing a security company. This wasn't just an ordinary desire, mind you, but a well-matured strategy in my mind.
In my past life, I often read about world-class private security companies like Blackwater from America or Wagner from Eastern Europe. They were like highly professional, effective private elite forces that could operate anywhere. Honestly, I was very inspired and, at the same time, a little daunted to see how they could operate independently and protect their clients' interests so well. I envisioned having a similar professional and robust entity in Indonesia.
But my motivation for establishing a security company here was also very realistic and relevant to our country's condition at that time. Just imagine, in Indonesia, especially post-Reformasi, disturbances from dubious mass organizations (ormas) and thugs were still a huge problem. They often appeared, trying to extort or disrupt businesses and people's assets. I knew very well that with all the property investments we were building in Bandung, and the potential for other businesses in the future, we needed more protection than just relying on public security. The police and military had bigger tasks, and we couldn't always rely on them for detailed matters like personal asset security.
So, I explained this vision to Father. "Father," I said one afternoon, as we were enjoying warm tea on the back porch of our house, "we need to have our own security company."
Father looked at me, his expression a mix of surprise and curiosity. "A security company? Like personal guards?"
"Not just that, Dad," I explained enthusiastically. "More than just personal guards. I envision a professional company, with a trained team, that can protect our property assets, protect important people, and prevent disturbances from irresponsible parties." I knew this sounded ambitious coming from a small child, but Father was already used to my big ideas. "This is to protect our assets from unwanted disturbances, Dad. So that all our investments are safe and we can focus on business development without worrying about interference."
Father nodded. He knew how vulnerable businesses in Indonesia were to such disturbances. "Good idea, Marlon," he said. "Father agrees. This is a step we need to take to ensure the security of all our assets and our family." The security company we would build would operate legally, with high operational standards. They would focus on asset protection, personal security, and perhaps also security consulting services. This was an important diversification step, not only to add to our investment portfolio but also to provide a sense of security and stability for all the grand plans we were executing. We would find the right people, former military or police with good track records, to lead and train this team. That way, Sundawani would have its own "muscle," in addition to its "brain" in finance and "heart" in social affairs.
All the companies and investments we were building—from Sundawani Properti busy acquiring land in Bandung and its surroundings, the developing farms in Ciwidey and Pangalengan, to the nascent security company in my mind—were all managed entirely by my Father and several of his trusted individuals. My Father was the operational spearhead in Indonesia. He worked in the field, surveying properties, negotiating, and ensuring every detail aligned with the plan.
We were not haphazard in forming the legal structure. Every entity, from PT. Sundawani Properti to the future security company, was legally structured to be transparent in the eyes of Indonesian law. This was important to avoid future problems and to ensure all our assets were legally protected. We consulted with competent lawyers, drafted meticulous articles of incorporation, and handled all necessary permits. The goal was to build a strong, legal, and sustainable foundation.
However, behind all the formal legality and daily operations managed by Father in Indonesia, there was a hidden thread of control, a nerve center that moved this entire small empire. The main decision-maker for this entire business network, both operating in Indonesia and abroad, was of course the trust fund I managed in Singapore. It was the funds from this trust fund that flowed, providing capital, approving every major strategic step, and ensuring all my long-term visions were realized. I, with my knowledge of the future, was the primary architect, providing strategic direction from behind the scenes.
What was interesting and crucial was one thing: what we were doing, whether it was massive property investments, farm development, the establishment of IT and venture capital companies abroad, or the plan for a security company, all took place without the knowledge of Father's extended family and my Mother's extended family. This was a secret we guarded very, very tightly.
Not because we didn't trust them, absolutely not. But because the extraordinary scale and speed of our investments would be very difficult to explain and might lead to many unnecessary questions, even suspicions. Just imagine, how would you explain a five-year-old child having such precise multi-billion rupiah investment vision? It was too absurd.
More importantly, this was the foundation for the future I wanted to build for our core family—Grandfather, Father, Mother, my sister Putri, my younger brother born during the reform era, and myself—away from potential intervention or unnecessary expectations from outsiders. We wanted to build our own strength, without pressure or negative perceptions from relatives. Our financial, spiritual, and physical security would remain a secret known only to Grandfather, Father, and of course, myself. This was a fortress we built in silence, growing organically, without needing attention or interference that could hinder it.
After all these investments began to move—Sundawani Properti busy searching for land, my Father monitoring the development of the farms, and the trust fund in Singapore starting to work on the Apple and Google stock plans—I went back to living my life as usual. My days were filled with the routine of a small child. I woke up early, had breakfast with my family, then went to the public elementary school near our house. I enjoyed these times, learning to read, write, and interact with my peers. I was Marlon, a ten-year-old child, who on the surface seemed ordinary, but in my mind, I carried a big secret about the future of the world.
Seasons changed, months passed, and I patiently awaited the arrival of September 2001. I knew that in that month, a monumental event would shake the world and indirectly greatly affect the investments we had planned.
And sure enough, as I already knew, when September arrived, the world was shaken by a shocking international terrorism case. News began to spread like wildfire: planes crashed into the World Trade Center (WTC) towers in New York. Horrifying images of the smoking twin towers, and their subsequent collapse, filled television screens and newspaper pages. The world seemed to stop.
The United States immediately announced that this was a massive terrorist attack, and they named Al-Qaeda as the mastermind, an extremist group led by Osama bin Laden. The global atmosphere immediately turned grim. Fear and anger mingled. This event was not just about America, but about a global geopolitical shift that would trigger the "War on Terror" and change the world's balance of power.
I saw the reactions of those around me—Father and Mother tense as they watched the news, teachers discussing it in class, and friends confused. I knew exactly the impact of this event on the global financial markets. The dollar would strengthen, stocks would fluctuate, and this was a crucial moment for our investment decisions in Singapore. This knowledge gave me an advantage, but also a burden, because I knew how terrifying this event was for many people.