My Plot Twist After a Poetry Event with Jakarta Poetry Slam

Photo: https://unsplash.com/photos/empty-hospital-bed-inside-room-zbpgmGe27p8

I am writing this while struggling with the pain caused by the swelling on my right face — all the way from my cheek to my jaw — and a dome-like swelling on my right ankle, after a motorcycle accident.

Gasp. Oh, my God. What happened?

Relax. It wasn’t that tragic, but still frightening for me. Let’s start from here:

“An Automated Life” by. Jakarta Poetry Slam (May 30, 2026–13:00–21:00 at Makarya, Gramedia Matraman, East Jakarta)

I didn’t just come here for the poetry slam. I had other missions:

• Catching up with my old friend, Rio (since he was one of the hosts for the talks about AI)

• Asking for Antonia Timmerman’s autograph on her poetry anthology “How Do You Want to Die?”, which I’d finished reading.

• Catching up with all the other friends, too.

Thankfully, mission accomplished. I received important insight from the talks about AI. I thanked all the speakers for that day, including Rio and Antonia. I think they did a wonderful job opening the eyes of the audience.

Although the event finished at 9:00 pm, some of us still hung out for a chat. Rio had to catch a train back to Bandung, so he left first. My friend Christian and I walked outside the Gramedia bookstore to order a ride-share via app. It was raining for a while. His motorcycle showed up first, so we said goodbye, and he rode off that night.

The Accident:

My bike ride showed up at some time after 9:30 pm. By then, the rain had stopped, and the streets were wet and slippery. I hopped on, and we rode off. The biker told me that I’d made him feel lucky.

“Why is that?” I asked him curiously.

“Because your destination is South Jakarta, and after dropping you off, I can just go straight home to BSD,” he answered cheerfully. I smiled at the word.

Lucky …

Unfortunately, somewhere close to Sampoerna Strategic Square, another motorcycle rider cut in right in front of us. My biker tried to swerve to the side to avoid him, but since the road was slippery from the rain, we lost our balance and fell to the right. I had the passenger helmet on, but it wasn’t full-faced, so …

… I felt my right cheek hit the asphalt road first … then something heavy fell on top of my right foot …

For a few seconds, my vision began to blur. I blinked to clear my eyesight. It was back on, especially because now a sharp, stinging pain started in my face … and my right foot. I heard murmurs of people’s voices … and another muffled shrill …

It took me another few seconds to realize that the muffled shrill had come from my mouth. I tried to scream, but I couldn’t open my mouth. I heard their voices while some pairs of hands were trying to pick me up and get me to stand.

“Let’s get her to the hospital … which is nearest??? … RS Jakarta … okay … “

It turned out that there were three guys helping me get into a car. (Another ride share? A regular cab?? My memory’s gone fuzzy on that part.) I was sitting in the middle of the backseat, still mumbling and shrilling from the pain. I felt my face wet with tears and snot from my nose. I heard they were trying to console me, but I couldn’t even look at them. My neck felt stiff. I was too scared to move so much, but I was also concentrating hard to stay awake and stay alert.

Don’t faint, Bibi. Whatever happens, no matter how much it hurts, stay awake!

So, yeah. Sorry, I didn’t get to take a good look at my three saviours that night. (If you guys happen to read this, I thank you from the bottom of my heart and pray God will give you lots of blessings in your life. Aamiin!) I only remember taking a picture of my miserable face before sending it to my brother with this message:

“Help me … I had an accident … RS Jakarta … “

Thankfully, my brother replied with a quick: “Okay.”

The guy next to me asked to see my brother’s number, so I let him look. Then he called my brother to tell him what had happened to me. I was fighting back dizziness and the pain in my face until we got to the hospital.

At the Hospital, in the ER:

As soon as we arrived at the hospital, I saw several nurses come out of the ER with a bed. Almost everything happened in seconds. I was guided out of the car, helped onto the bed, and made to lie down (along with my sling bag!), before they brought me in. Despite my dizziness and glazed look, I tried to concentrate as much as I could. Somehow, I’d already stopped shrilling, probably knowing that at least I got to be somewhere safer.

“Ma’am, what’s your phone number?” asked one of the nurses. Since I still couldn’t move my jaw, I only typed the numbers on my phone and showed the screen to her. She nodded, copied it, and left. Another one took a closer look at me before she gently used the tissue to wipe the snot under my nostrils. I stared in horror when I noticed the white tissue came off with red streaks when she took it away.

Blood, I realized. My blood. Uh-oh, it’s more serious than I thought …

“I think you need to spit something out,” she said as she eyed me carefully. Then she offered a metal tray. I suspected the same thing because I realized that my mouth tasted weird, so I did. I spat on that tray.

Damn! More blood …

“It’s okay,” she tried to assure me, which unfortunately didn’t help that much. “You’re going to be okay.” The curtains were drawn shut to cover me as two other nurses helped me change my blouse to a hospital gown. I tried to breathe as calmly as possible, even as I saw some red streaks on the front of my blouse, too.

“Just lie down.” So, I did, and they all left me. I touched my nose to make sure it was not broken. Nope. I checked my teeth with my tongue as far as I could. Still there.

Not long after that, the biker who was supposed to get me home safely turned up. He looked worried and embarrassed.

“Ma’am, I am so sorry,” he apologized. I tried to smile, but of course it hurt. I nodded weakly.

“It’s okay,” I slurred, hoping he could still understand my muffled speech. “It was just an accident.”

“I’ll be waiting at the lobby,” he said. “I heard from the guys who helped you that your brother’s on his way here.”

“Thank you,” I whispered weakly. After he left, I took my phone out of the tiny pouch and thanked God it was still in good condition. The clock read way past eleven. While waiting for my brother, I started texting some WhatsApp groups where my friends are and some friends individually. I told them what had happened to me, and they were worried. I didn’t ask for pity; I just needed something to distract myself.

I even sent them a picture of myself with an already swollen cheek, with a joking caption so they knew I still had my weird sense of humour:

“This is not my extra fat, just the swelling.”

I was still busy chatting with some of them despite my headache when the doctor and nurses showed up to take me for a CT scan. I put my phone back in my tiny pouch, zipping it tightly. I told them which of my body parts hurt the most: my head and my right foot.

I was so relieved to hear the doctor say, “Good. Clear. No concussion” after my head was scanned. Not long after that, they brought me back to the ER.

Mom and my brother showed up when it was close to midnight … I think. The hospital sent me a link to see the result of my CT scan. No fractures on my foot, but the dome-like swelling on my ankle was still there. I wiggled my toes just to check if my feet were broken. Nope.

Sometime after that, I think the nurse gave me something to help me sleep. I had to drink with a straw to help swallow the pill. I vaguely heard my brother, Mom, and the doctor chat:

“Most vital signs are good … no fractures on her foot but an external swelling from the impact … however, her cheekbone had a minor fracture … rather close to her sinus … there’s still an internal bleeding … “

Ahh, so that explains the blood earlier!

Mom decided to wait in the lobby because the ER felt too cold for her. My brother had gone back and forth to my side. I had to deal with some payments and the insurance. When my phone needed a recharge, I ended up giving him the phone and the charger too (which he took from inside my bag on the other bed, next to the clothes I’d worn)

Sometime after 1:00 am, three guys came in carrying their drunken friend, all looking as if they were still in their 20s. My family was somewhere outside. From their rapid talks with the nurses, their drunken friend had passed out (or fallen?) One of the nurses had to remove my stuff from the bed next to mine to under my bed, so they could put the guy there.

Then, it got scary when the drunken guy came to and started thrashing about. They were trying to hold him back down, one of his friends pleading, “Bro, chill. Take it easy, bro!” I heard another friend begging the nurse not to call their parents.

When one of the nurses caught the worry and fear in my eyes, she signalled to her colleagues. I was so relieved when they finally decided to move Angry Drunk Guy far enough from me. Another nurse later looked at me, smiled, and said, “It’s okay. Just try to get some rest.”

I was asleep for a while, then I woke up when my uncle came. He told me that Mom and my brother had to go back home to get my clean clothes and come back soon. Later, he was waiting for them at the lobby.

When Mom and my brother finally returned, the doctor came and wanted to give me something to stop the internal bleeding. When he mentioned ‘a shot’, I freaked out and pointed at my face. He almost laughed when he said, “No, no. On your hand.”

Thank God. But I still hated the needle.

My other uncle and aunt also showed up. I was discharged in the morning at around 9:00 am. (I glanced at the clock on the wall.) I thanked the nurses and was led to the car by Mom and my brother. I was already wearing the clean dress Mom brought from home.

Well, that’s it for now. I’ll be telling you more about the post-accident stuff … sometime in my next posts …

Bibi