Who?

My father was born and lives on a small island which belongs to the archipelago around the island of Madura. After crossing Surabaya to Madura we still have to travel for about 5 hours (without traffic jams) then cross again for 40 minutes to get to the island where this gentleman lives. Until I went to high school (circa 2007) and returned to my father's village, this island was still not adequately lit, the electricity was only on for about 6 hours per day (our village had an allotted supply of electricity during the day), and even then it was still frequently hit by rotating blackouts because The power plants are old and unable to sustain the island's electricity needs, so many residents use diesel engines to supply electricity at night. However, there are also many who cannot afford to buy a machine and only rely on oil or petrol lamps so that when the sun goes down the streets are very dark, especially because there are many gardens and the residents' houses are far apart.

Father lives with his aunt who raised him from childhood. Because my father was orphaned since birth and my grandmother went outside the island to work for several years. At that time, my father was still in elementary school. After my grandmother returned to the village, every evening he went to my grandmother's house (my father still lived with his aunt) and then went to recite the Koran at the mosque. Because my father left before maghrib, the streets started to get dark and deserted, so my father always waited for people to pass by to go together because he was afraid. Along the way there are lots of bamboo trees growing which sound when the wind blows.

"Krriiieeetttt... Krriiieeettttt..."

The sound of bamboo stalks rubbing against each other in the wind is quite enough to give goosebumps when you have to walk alone.

In addition, at the bend of the road on either side, flanked by bamboo groves and a grave on the right. Because of that, hr are very happy because before sunset there is always a tall, middle-aged man passing by in the same direction as he. That's why he always wait for that person so he won't be afraid to walk alone. Father always follows that person behind him. But that person always walks without paying attention to him, even every time he catch up, the distance between he and that person never changes. And that person always turns and disappears into the yard around the corner of the bamboo tree, I think that person really lives in the house around the corner. After that corner, my father ran to Grandma's house because he was afraid to be alone. This incident was repeated every day until finally my father left the village to sail.

Until finally, after my father returned to the village and met his old friends, he found out that the corner was guarded by a tall, middle-aged man who always disappeared around the corner. At that time, my father realized that the guard his friend had told him was exactly the same as the man that my father had always followed. So all this time the person who always accompanied my father on the road to his mother's house was apparently not human.