Full Circle: A Story of Liberation

BY PATRICIA BECKER
Co-Founder & Chief FutureMaker, FutureWomenX and FutureWomenX The Agency

In March of this year, I embarked on an incredible journey to Surinam after a hiatus of 44 years, reconnecting with cherished moments from the past and discovering new chapters of our family history. I was fortunate to be accompanied by my 85-year-old mother, my loving wife, my younger brother, and my sister-in-law, turning the trip into an awe-inspiring exploration of our roots.

My mother, who was born in Surinam with Indonesian-Javanese heritage, met my Dutch father during the early sixties when he served as a Dutch military police agent stationed in Paramaribo. My determined mother completed her studies before joining him. Education was deeply ingrained in our family ethos and became our guiding principle. Throughout her life, my mother dedicated herself to a lifelong full-time career as a school teacher—a remarkable achievement, considering the societal norms for women in Dutch society, which I came to appreciate more as I grew older.

Our journey took us to the very plantations where my great-grandmothers worked as involuntary contract laborers for five grueling years. These remarkable women, known as Bok Sairah and Bok Salamah Ginem, registered without a family name, arrived from Java in the early 1900s and endured harsh conditions.

Were they kidnapped? The story doesn't tell that, but it is likely.

My grandparents were born on those plantations, with their fathers remaining unknown. However, raising a child as a labor contract worker was unfeasible, leading to their placement in an orphanage. They grew up without knowledge of their mothers' identities or a family name.

Only 12 years ago, we made a breakthrough when we discovered digitized records from the plantations (more than 800 in Paramaribo alone). Unearthing the first names of my great-grandmothers and finding photographs of their arrival in Paramaribo, donning contract number signs around their necks.

Determined to bring closure to this chapter 115 years later, we gathered on the plantation, placing green stones I had found on a beach in Java in a poignant ritual. With our names inscribed on the stones, we symbolically sealed the circle of our ancestral narrative.

During our visit to the Armand Salimin School in Leliendaal, Commewijne, I realized that my own motto of paying forward what I had missed myself was not original to me. It was my grandparents who established this very school in 1966, with a mission to provide education to Javanese girls and liberate them from household duties. They dedicated themselves tirelessly, persuading families to enroll their daughters.

Every evening, after a day's work, my grandfather would pedal through the local community on his bicycle, tirelessly persuading families to entrust their daughters to his school. The school was named after my grandfather, who had given himself the appellation of Armand Salimin after his time in an orphanage without a family name. My grandmother, Sainih, adopted her mother's first name as her own, the only thing she knew about her. Together, they built the school adjacent to the orphanage. My mother, named after Kartini (1879), an Indonesian women's voting rights activist, continued the family's teaching legacy. During our visit, our family contributed funds and gave the school a makeover. It now educates 225 children, with more projects in the pipeline, thanks to donations from all our family members.

My personal quest for familial roots and collective history had a perfect ending—a FWX COURAGEOUS CONVERSATION BREAKFAST with amazing local FutureWomen, carefully selected by my respected co-host, Vanessa Limon, bringing together extraordinary women who are making a profound impact in Surinam. These remarkable women seldom ask for assistance, carrying the weight of responsibility with (too much?) humility. The future of Surinam rests in their capable hands, shaping the destiny of the country I hold dear.

As the breakfast came to a close, I carried a renewed sense of purpose and a deep connection to my family's heritage. The threads of my great-grandmothers' tenacity, my grandparents' vision, my mother's determination, and the indomitable spirit of those championing progress today all intertwined in the pursuit of a better tomorrow.

In that moment, I wondered, was it a rebirth or simply a birth? You tell me.